‘What then?’
‘I cleared off. I was not of a mood to stand there watching her. I heard a noise, and when I investigated, I found Sampson. He had seen the argument and left just after Mark himself.’
‘So Sampson could not have killed her? You saw her alive and then saw him leaving the place?’
‘She was alive when Sampson left,’ Surval said with certainty.
‘Did you see anyone else?’
‘No. When I left, I could hear the plough still moving. That was all. I didn’t see anyone else.’
‘Why did you keep this secret until now, then? There is little in this to help us, and little enough to do you harm!’ Baldwin exclaimed. ‘This whole matter is ridiculous! Why does no one try to help find the girl’s killer?’
‘Because it hurts any vill to accept that a man within it could do such a wicked thing.’
There was a curious tone in the hermit’s voice. ‘What do you mean?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Do you have any idea who could have done this?’
‘I know Elias was in the field with Ben. I also know that no one else passed along the lane after Sir Ralph,’ Surval said. ‘Later, I saw Ben running down the roadway to get help. Elias remained.’
‘So?’
‘What if that little slap, the shock of his hand upon her – and, who knows, perhaps the thought that she had lost him? – made poor Mary lose her child? Perhaps she fell to the ground, whimpering and weeping, and Elias found her like that.’
‘What if he did?’
‘A young girl lying on the ground, the soil about her covered in her blood. It would look as though she had been attacked.’
‘Which is surely what Elias thought,’ Baldwin agreed.
‘Elias feels strongly that women should not be molested. He lost his own daughter because she was raped. She died slowly, because she had been kicked in the belly. Wouldn’t he think it kinder to kill her swiftly?’
Baldwin recalled seeing Elias with rabbits, how he stroked them to calm them before speedily breaking their necks. ‘So one could say that Mark did, in fact, kill her. If he hadn’t hit her and made her collapse, she might still be alive.’
‘And this terrible tale might have a different ending.’
‘You do not feel that Wylkyn killed his master?’
‘No. He would never have harmed Sir Richard. His whole endeavour was to help the poor man with his possets and potions.’
‘Then…’
‘I think Mark was keen to assist his father.’
‘Sweet Jesus! You mean this?’
‘I was there in the room. Mark was present for much of the time. Anyone could have gone into Wylkyn’s room to fetch powders or leaves, Mark the same as anyone. He knew his father was Sir Ralph, and he sought to further my brother’s interests. Perhaps he intended to tell Ralph what he had done, and try to claim benefits of some sort. Maybe seek patronage.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘There is little a man like Mark would not do to improve his prospects, Sir Baldwin. I know that someone like you is immune to the lust of better offices, but for a political monk, what else is there? Especially when he is left in a backwater like this. What is more natural than that he should dream of halls of his own, of power and influence?’
‘So Esmon wrongly assumed that Wylkyn must have murdered Sir Richard, and sought to avenge the crime.’
‘Exactly.’
‘A terrible mess.’
‘Life often is, Sir Baldwin.’
‘True, my friend.’
‘You seem to feel the misery of other people, good sir.’
‘There are times,’ Baldwin said quietly, ‘when I feel that I carry the weight of too many men’s sins and grief on my shoulders.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
He found Simon sitting on a barrel near the mill, disconsolately throwing stones into the mill-leat. ‘Roger was a good man.’
‘Yes,’ Baldwin said. ‘I shall take his body to his widow as soon as I can make arrangements.’
Simon nodded and threw another stone into the river. ‘It seems as though the whole of my life has been turned upside down in the last few months. First my Lord Abbot’s decision that I should move to Dartmouth to live, then the news that my daughter has found herself a lover, and now poor Roger is dead. A friend who died trying to save us.’
‘I know. And the hardest knock is that I doubt whether we would have been in any danger if he and his men had not arrived when they did.’
‘That did surprise me. What made Brian take over the castle just then?’
‘I doubt he would have rebelled if it was not for the show of force at the gate. It made him feel insecure and he chose to protect himself as he knew how – by taking the place. If the rear wall had been secure, he might have held out for weeks.’
‘If he’d not bothered to fight, he’d still be alive now, and so would many others. Coroner Roger would only have arrested Sir Ralph and his son.’
‘Yes. Instead many died. And we still have an investigation to complete.’
‘Wylkyn?’
‘Yes. I know where his body lies.’
‘Under the pile of stones, of course. Then let’s fetch it.’
‘We cannot report it to Roger now. There is no one else here to whom we can give it.’
‘There is another Coroner who lives in Exeter, isn’t there?’
Baldwin sighed. ‘Yes. But think of it in this way, Simon. How much easier would it be, should this body be added to the toll from yesterday? Will it help any man to learn that the vill aided the concealment of a body? Or that an old man and a fool hid Wylkyn on the orders of Esmon of Gidleigh?’
‘No, of course not. But justice demands something.’
‘You talk to me of justice today?’
Simon saw a picture of Roger in his mind’s eye, the dark features, the piratical grin, the cynical leer when he doubted a witness’s words, and slowly shook his head. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Find Piers and Elias and Roger Scut. With them we can fetch the body.’
It took no time to gather the men and soon they were on their way, Hugh leading a small farm cart, Piers and Elias walking alongside, and Roger Scut, Baldwin and Simon on horseback. Their route took them back along the path where the girl had died, and Baldwin asked exactly where she had been found. Elias pointed out the position.
‘I see. And you were in that field with Ben?’
‘No. That ’un.’
Baldwin stared at the freshly ploughed soil. He could see over the hedge, but no one on the road would have been visible. On the opposite side, a hedge had been recently laid, the long branches set down horizontally and kept in place with pegs and grasses to form a strong, living barrier to the sheep and cattle that would next year graze here. ‘That’s where Osbert was?’
‘Aye.’
Baldwin nodded, but then looked nearer. ‘And this must be where Sampson and Surval were.’
Elias shot him a look, but it was Piers who said, ‘Surval never told me he was here.’
‘Perhaps you forgot to ask him?’ Baldwin said mildly, but then he met Elias’s look before urging his mount onwards.
At the wall, Hugh let his pony wander without taking the cart from its back. Baldwin and Simon’s horses were loosely hobbled so that they could nibble at the grass while the men climbed over the fence and took the track Baldwin had found before.
‘Are you sure he’s here?’ Piers said doubtfully. ‘This isn’t the easiest place to hide a man, is it?’
‘When I was here the other day, I found small drops of blood on the way,’ Baldwin said shortly. ‘They led me to the pit here, as though someone was going to throw in something, and yet all there was, was a dead calf. Ah yes. There it is.’
They had reached the pit now.
‘Maybe someone from the farm put it here?’ Piers said helpfully.
‘But as I said, there was blood on the way here,’ Baldwin said as he led them to the p
ile of stones. ‘And you will find him in there. Please get him out. There should be no need to tell anyone else of this. If we keep silent ourselves, we can remove him, put him with the dead in the churchyard and make an addition to the records to show that Wylkyn died trying to help us storm the castle.’
Roger Scut’s head shot up. ‘You expect me to add this man’s name to the list? I can be no part of that! I should be perjuring myself!’
‘Scut, if you do not, I shall tell the Dean about your efforts: seeking to accuse an innocent monk of a murder he didn’t commit, releasing him from gaol so that he could be hunted down and killed, and all so that you could take more wealth to yourself. Would you like that?’ Baldwin asked with silky sarcasm.
‘I didn’t release him. Sir Ralph did.’
‘But you tried, didn’t you?’ Simon said. ‘And Dean Peter is an old friend of mine and Sir Baldwin’s. He would trust us.’
‘Very well. I suppose I shall have to agree under the threat of your blackmail,’ Roger Scut said with a show of reluctance. ‘If that is all…’
‘No, it is not. You also have a farmer, Jack, whom you have forced to give up lands he himself acquired. You will give them back to him in their entirety.’
‘What? I can’t do that! What would my other peasants say?’
Baldwin reached out almost lazily, and grabbed a handful of his tunic. He pulled Scut to him. ‘Arse that you are, by name and behaviour, I swear this to you: if you do not release Jack from your intolerable service, I shall see you ruined in the Church. You wanted this little chapel so that you could take the money from it, didn’t you? Well, if you do not agree to my demand, Scut, I shall make it my job to tell the good Dean that you are so keen on it, and I will ensure, Scut, that you have it and it alone. You will take Mark’s place here, without a Lord, now that Sir Ralph is dead, without a patron, and without any income. I can do this, Scut, if you do not release Jack and return to him all the lands you have recently taken from him.’
‘I shall release him,’ Scut said sulkily. ‘Although he is a lazy devil, and why on earth you want to assist someone like that is beyond me.’
Piers gave a cry of revulsion. ‘We have him!’
Baldwin released Scut and nodded slowly while the man patted down his habit and tried not to look embarrassed. He walked over with Simon to view the corpse as it was exposed, Baldwin in their wake.
The discovery of the body was no great surprise to Baldwin because he had known that Wylkyn was here as soon as he had come to look at the spot with Simon and the Coroner. He could have kicked himself for not investigating properly on the previous occasion, but then he had not enjoyed the luxury of time, and it was only when he had a little pause for reflection that he had been able to see what he had first missed.
‘It is sad to see a man like him brought down,’ he observed to Elias.
‘At least he died quickly, didn’t he?’
‘How can you tell?’
‘All those wounds.’
‘But he could have suffered a great deal while receiving them!’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Like that poor girl Mary.’
‘Her?’ Elias nodded sadly. ‘Ruined, poor chit.’
‘I heard your own daughter was raped.’
‘Yes,’ he sighed.
‘You miss her. She was how old?’
‘About fifteen.’
‘That must have been a terrible loss to you.’
‘It was.’
‘And her death was not so kindly as this man’s?’
‘No. She bled to death, poor child.’
Baldwin drew him away from the others a few paces. ‘But Mary was not raped, Elias.’
‘So?’
‘She willingly gave herself. It was wrong to kill her.’
‘Who says I killed her?’
‘You found her lying by the way, you saw the blood, and you thought she was dead, so you sent her brother to fetch help. You thought someone had raped and murdered her, just as they killed your own child. Except when you went to her, once Ben was gone, you realised she wasn’t dead, but she had collapsed because of the bleeding, just like your girl’s.’
‘The Coroner reckoned my daughter died because the man kicked her and broke something inside her. There was lots of blood, all running down her thighs and legs. My poor lass. It was terrible!’
‘So she was already dead when she was found?’ Baldwin asked gently.
‘No. It took her an age to die. And when I saw young Mary lying there like that, all the blood down her legs, and all, I thought it was happening all over again.’ His eyes were glistening now, and he sniffed as he continued. ‘I sat with her, and then I touched her, and her head just flopped down. Her neck was broken.’
‘You found her alive, didn’t you? You concealed her from Ben’s view so you could kill her.’
‘No. She was dead already.’
‘You took her head and snapped her neck like a rabbit.’
Elias shook his head. ‘No, Sir Baldwin. I swear she was already dead. Ask Surval. He saw me.’
‘You saw Surval there? You didn’t mention that before.’
‘No, well. Not much point telling of others there, is there? It’d only get him fined as well. The vill can do without more fines.’
Baldwin studied him. He hadn’t mentioned Surval, so far as he could remember. ‘Where was Surval?’
Elias scowled. ‘I saw him over there, leaning on that great stick of his, as I came out of the field. He was up beyond Mary’s body.’
‘So you came out into the road, saw her, sent Ben to fetch help, and sat down patiently to wait?’ Baldwin said.
‘There’s no need for sarcasm. I saw her and shielded Ben from the sight, yes, and then, once he’d gone, I dipped back into the hedge to puke up. It was so like my own little girl’s death. I thought Mary had been raped at the time, but now… well, I reckon she just lost her child.’
‘And then someone broke her neck for her,’ Baldwin added sharply.
‘Yes. But not me.’
When they arrived at the hermit’s hut, he was sitting outside, staring at the bridge.
‘You have spoken to Elias?’ he said.
Baldwin nodded. ‘And I believe him.’
‘No one believes a hermit, do they?’
‘Not always, no. You were the man who killed Mary, weren’t you?’
‘Why do you think so?’
‘Because you were there. We spent so much time thinking that others must be involved, but you were there, and you had the same motive as any others. You wanted to halt her pain, didn’t you? Not because you’d seen your daughter die, but because you’d seen your own woman miscarry and bleed to death after you lost control and beat her up. You couldn’t bear to see another girl die like that.’
Surval nodded. ‘Yes. It’s true. But I only killed her to save her pain. That was all. Only to save her pain.’
Simon could see that Baldwin was inclined to believe the old hermit – and yet there was something that tugged at his mind. He remembered hearing something before – something about this hermit.
‘What will you do with me?’ Surval asked serenely.
Baldwin’s voice was tired. ‘There have been too many deaths. I do not honestly care what happens to you. I think you meant to do her a service, and for that, perhaps, you should be congratulated.’
‘I am grateful, Sir Knight. Not that I can disagree with you, of course.’ Surval smiled and leaned back. ‘It is a grand day, friends. A beautiful day.’
‘It must feel like you’re reprieved from a terrible fate,’ Simon said without thinking.
‘Hmm? Aye, I suppose so.’
‘It was a shame that you did not feel it necessary to defend Mark, though.’
‘True. But how could I reject other men’s accusations against him without betraying my own role?’
‘Poor Mark. And he was related to you, we find.’
‘Yes. He was my nephew. So many are my neph
ews or nieces!’
‘You once told me you have a child,’ Baldwin said.
‘You know him – Osbert. He is a good fellow. He doesn’t know he is my boy, though. His mother told everyone it was Ralph. I didn’t want to get into trouble with the Bishop, and it was all too easy to believe stories about my late, unlamented brother!’
Seeing him sitting back in the sun, absorbing the warmth, Simon suddenly remembered what he had heard and when, and he felt a cold premonition. It was during the ride here from Lydford. They had got lost and had to cross over the bridge, and Osbert, after they met Surval, had mentioned that Sir Richard had disliked the hermit. ‘How did you like Sir Richard?’ he asked now.
‘He was a good enough man.’
‘Did he support you and your bridge?’
‘Of course. Why shouldn’t he?’
Baldwin was watching the Bailiff as though wondering whether he might have been clubbed on the head during the fighting yesterday, but Simon felt like a harrier which sees its fox starting to flag. ‘I heard he was trying to throw you off here because he thought you were no more than a felon escaping justice.’
‘He had heard of me, I think, from my brother or nephew. They couldn’t keep their mouths shut.’
‘He died quickly.’
‘Fairly, yes.’
‘How did he die?’
‘He had a seizure. Horrible.’
‘You saw him?’
‘I was there for much of the time, yes. I wasn’t there when he actually expired.’
‘No. There was no need, was there?’ Simon said. ‘Baldwin, we have been very stupid. There was only ever one murderer. The same man killed Sir Richard and the girl. Sir Richard because he threatened Surval’s home…’
‘He wanted to report me to the Bishop and have me removed. It wasn’t anything to do with me, though. He simply wished to get back at my brother!’ Surval looked from one man to the other, and saw incomprehension in their eyes. ‘Very well, masters, you don’t understand. I’ll try to explain. I have a home here, a pleasing house, and I have my own altar, at which I abase myself. It is a part of me, this home. It is all I have now. In some ways, it is me! It defines me. My life, my soul, all that I am, is here. And Sir Richard wanted to throw me from the place. He intended sending me back to the Bishop. Not because of anything I had done, but because he thought any man related to my brother must be my brother’s ally. Well, I wasn’t.’
The Mad Monk of Gidleigh Page 45
