‘But how did he reach the house?’ wondered Tetbald. ‘The dogs are trained to attack. One of them must have heard him. Why did they not bark?’ Another thought struck him. ‘What else did he steal?’
Engelric defied their expectations. When they took their places behind the table at the shire hall, the commissioners felt certain that the first witness that morning would be yet another dispossessed Saxon who wished to roar in anger at them. The old man who limped in through the door was anything but bellicose, giving them a cheerful wave of greeting as if they were friends from whom he had been long parted. Short, wizened and white-bearded, Engelric supported himself on a stick. His face was mobile, his mouth almost toothless. Accompanied by a younger man, he made his way to the bench at the front and sat down.
Since he could only speak his native tongue, Engelric had to be examined by Gervase Bret who translated the old man's answers for the benefit of his colleagues. Married to a Saxon, Ralph Delchard had by now picked up enough of the language to be able to understand it fairly well but he lacked Gervase's speed and fluency. Hervey de Marigny was fascinated by the old man but Canon Hubert would soon grow impatient at the plodding pace that was imposed upon them by the use of an interpreter. Trying to estimate the witness's age, Brother Simon wondered how many reigns he must have lived through.
After introducing himself and his colleagues, Gervase administered the oath then began his examination, speaking slowly and with deliberation.
‘What is your name?’
‘Engelric, son of Wulfgar.’
‘Please state your claim.’
‘It is simple,’ said the other with a shrug. ‘The holdings at Upton Pyne belong to me. They were granted by royal charter at the time of King Edward, who held me in high regard.’ He nudged his companion who produced a document from the satchel on his lap. ‘Here is the charter in question. You will recognise the seal of King Edward of blessed memory.’
The document was passed to the commissioners for inspection and Engelric's opening words were translated by Gervase. After scrutinising the charter, Hubert passed it on to Ralph.
‘It seems genuine enough,’ said Hubert, ‘but completely worthless. That land was granted to the abbot of Tavistock by a charter which renders this one invalid. Later documents supersede the abbot's claim.’
When Gervase translated, the old man was ready with his reply.
‘Those holdings were not taken from me to be given to the abbot,’ he said. ‘They were exchanged for property that was already owned by the abbey but further afield and less profitable to farm. I yielded up my land in the firm belief that the abbey would give me theirs, but they refused to do so. That is why I am here today. To ask for the return of land which was unfairly taken from me.’ A second nudge brought another document out of the satchel. ‘Here is the deed of exchange.’
The document produced far more interest as there had been no mention of it during the debate with the abbot of Tavistock himself. Offering himself as an injured party, the abbot was, it seemed, guilty of inflicting an injury himself by reneging on a transaction. Engelric had produced the king's writ to prove that an exchange should have taken place. The commissioners were impressed. Having studied the returns for the whole county, they knew that over a thousand estates were surveyed in Devon yet barely a tenth remained in the hands of the men who held them before the Conquest. The fact that Engelric was one of the chosen few showed how much respect he had earned from his new overlords.
‘This man was cheated out of his land by the abbey,’ said de Marigny.
‘I suspect that he was not the only one,’ said Ralph. ‘I will enjoy asking our choleric abbot why he forgot all about this exchange and remembers only the slights inflicted on him.’
‘Let us not get diverted by this,’ warned Hubert, holding the second document. ‘Though this, too, has the feel of authenticity, it does not alter the situation. By diverse means, the holdings at Upton Pyne came into the possession of Nicholas Picard. This old man and the abbot of Tavistock are locking horns in a tussle that neither can win. Later grants make theirs null and void.’
‘Not necessarily, Canon Hubert,’ said Gervase. ‘We do not yet know the substance of the other claims. If they turn out to be fraudulent then the property could still revert to the abbey.’
‘Or to Engelric,’ said Ralph. ‘We must find a just solution.’
‘Ask him why he was allowed to keep his manor,’ suggested de Marigny, eyeing their witness with admiration. ‘He must have been a man of some distinction in his day.’
‘He still is,’ said Gervase.
He spent an hour questioning the old man and extracted a wealth of information from him about the disposition of land before and after the Conquest. In spite of his age, Engelric had a fierce memory for detail. What was most startling was the total lack of bitterness which he displayed. There were no wild accusations, no cries of defiance and no acrimonious recriminations. All that Engelric asked for was land which he once lawfully possessed. Gervase had to curb his natural sympathy for the Saxons and de Marigny had to remind himself that sentiment played no part in judicial decisions, but it was Ralph who was most deeply affected by the evidence that was given.
Engelric's story was that of Golde's father. They shared the common fate of so many proud thegns. In listening to the old man's history, Ralph realised that he might be hearing words from the mouth of his dead father-in-law and it gave him a new insight into the predicament which his wife faced as a young girl in Herefordshire. Canon Hubert was not persuaded that the witness had a legitimate claim but he was quick to plunder the old man's memory of details relating to other property in the vicinity. Though he might not have advanced his own cause, Engelric had been an immense help to the commissioners.
When it was time to leave, he used the stick to lever himself up again.
‘What will happen now, young man?’ he asked Gervase.
‘Your claim will be considered alongside the others and we will reach a judgement. You will be informed of that decision immediately.’
‘What of my documents?’
‘You may have those back but we may need to see them again.’ Engelric nodded then bestowed an appreciative grin on the table.
‘Thank you for hearing my plea,’ he said politely. ‘I do not have long to live and I would like to have my land restored before I die.’ He looked around warily. ‘A word of warning, friends,’ he hissed. ‘Do not trust the abbot of Tavistock. He takes without giving in exchange. Do not enter into any transactions with him. He could shame the Devil!’
Gervase smiled, Ralph chuckled and de Marigny asked what the joke was. Gervase's translation provoked a bout of blustering from Hubert, but the canon soon calmed down. Engelric had been a revelation to them. He was a sure-footed guide through the marshes of property ownership in the county and his insights were invaluable to them. They were sorry to see the old man limp out of the shire hall on his stick.
Saewin hurried through the streets of Exeter to deliver his summons. Uncomfortable memories of his last visit to the house surfaced, but he tried to push them to the back of his mind. This time, at least, he might earn some gratitude. Eldred saw him coming and went into the house to fetch his mistress. The two of them were waiting on the threshold when the reeve came up.
‘Well?’ asked Loretta. ‘Am I summoned?’
‘You soon will be, my lady,’ said Saewin. ‘I came to give you fair warning. The first witness has been examined and sent on his way. The second is now before the commissioners.’
‘Then I am next.’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you, Saewin. I appreciate your coming in person instead of sending a servant with the message. I will remember this kindness.’
‘That pleases me, my lady.’
‘Engelric has departed, then?’
‘He has,’ he said defensively. ‘But do not ask me what transpired in the shire hall because I am unable to tell you. I take no part in the judicia
l process. I merely summon the witnesses.’
Loretta smiled. ‘You have already told me what I wished to know.’
‘In confidence.’
‘Yes, Saewin. In confidence.’
She smiled at him again and he felt discomfited. Loretta looked more stately than ever and she was supremely assured. Saewin had forgotten exactly what he had told her about the commissioners, but it seemed to have added a new optimism. He shifted his feet and tried to excuse himself.
‘How long will it be?’ she enquired.
‘It is impossible to say.’
A studied contempt. ‘She will not detain them for long, surely?’
‘Asa is entitled to advance her claim.’
‘What claim? She has never owned property in her entire life.’
‘The commissoners agreed to hear her.’
‘They might just as well listen to Berold the Jester.’
Saewin winced inwardly. He tried to sound as impartial as he could.
‘Asa has a right to speak,’ he said calmly. ‘They would not have summoned her otherwise. Her claim is somewhat unusual but it is no less valid for that. Your turn will soon come, my lady. It is Asa who is facing the commissioners now.’
‘How do we know that the letter is not a forgery?’ asked Ralph Delchard.
‘I will swear that it is not,’ she said.
‘We need more proof than your word.’
‘Then I will show you another letter from the lord Nicholas. You can compare the handwriting and see that both were written by him.’
‘Or forged by the same hand.’
‘There was no forgery, my lord.’
‘Do you really claim that Nicholas Picard wrote this?’ he said, holding up the document. ‘What would make a man in his position consider such a strange commitment?’
‘Have you never given a gift to someone you loved, my lord?’
‘Of course. But nothing of this size.’
‘He was generous whereas you are mean.’
Even Hubert smiled at her rebuff. Asa was in no way intimidated by the commissioners. Her manner was composed, her answers clear and unequivocal. Fearing that they might have to use Gervase once more as an interpreter, they were pleasantly surprised to learn that Asa had a good command of Norman French. It made possible a livelier dialogue.
‘Let us go through it again,’ said Hervey de Marigny as he ran an approving eye over her. ‘We are not trying to catch you out. We simply ask for confirmation that this letter was written by the lord Nicholas.’
‘Then show it to his wife.’
‘That is a preposterous suggestion!’ protested Hubert.
‘Why?’ she said.
‘The lady Catherine would be outraged.’
‘If you believe that, you do not know the lady Catherine. After all those years of marriage, she had the measure of her husband.’
Asa pointed to the letter. ‘She will read it without a tremor. And she will confirm that her husband wrote it.’
‘In spite of its extraordinary contents?’ said Hubert.
‘The lady Catherine is an honourable woman. She would not lie in order to discredit me. On the other hand,’ she added, ‘the letter is my private property and I would not willingly let anyone but yourselves view it. There must be several documents at the house which bear the lord Nicholas's hand. Ask to see one and place it beside my letter.’
The commissioners held a silent conference. They were in no doubt that Asa was speaking the truth. The letter was clearly genuine and its underlying affection was quite moving. It was not difficult to see what attracted Nicholas Picard to Asa. She had a pert beauty that was enhanced by her poise and her forthrightness. There was a sense of independence about Asa which somehow made her more appealing.
‘How long did you know the lord Nicholas?’ asked Gervase.
‘For two years or more.’
‘And did you … were you … during that time … is it fair to say …’
Ralph came to his rescue. ‘What my colleague wishes to ask is how close the relationship actually was. The lord Nicholas was clearly somewhat more than a casual acquaintance.’
‘You have read his letter, my lord. We were lovers.’
‘In the carnal sense?’
‘What other sense is there?’
Ralph grinned, de Marigny chuckled, Gervase looked away, Hubert stared at her in sheer disgust and Brother Simon put his hands over his ears in alarm. Asa was unperturbed at their reaction.
‘You are men of the world,’ she said brightly. ‘Well, some of you are. I am sure that you understand. Love does not only exist within marriage.’
‘It should!’ boomed Hubert. ‘It was ordained for lawful procreation.’
Asa almost giggled. ‘That is not what we called it.’
Gervase made an effort to control his embarrassment. ‘We are moving away from the crucial question,’ he argued, taking the letter from Ralph. ‘What we must ask is whether this is a binding document or merely a letter of intent.’
‘A letter of intent,’ decided Ralph.
‘It is a form of will, my lord,’ she insisted.
‘Yet it is not dated or witnessed.’
‘He wanted me to have that land.’
‘Then he should have left it to you in his last will and testament.’
‘Do we know that he has not?’ she asked.
The question threw them all into disarray. It was minutes before they disentangled themselves sufficiently to continue their examination. Asa remained alert and responsive throughout and gave an honest account of her relationship with her benefactor. What value they could place on the letter they did not know, but it could not be dismissed until they had sight of the last will and testament of the deceased. Having assumed that it would favour the widow, they were now forced to speculate that it might contain some alarming surprises for her.
Before she left, Asa took the opportunity to ask them a number of pertinent questions and she seemed satisfied with their answers. Hubert and Simon had exuded censure, but the other commissioners had been objective judges. Reclaiming her letter, she glided serenely out.
Gervase was entranced. ‘What a remarkable young woman!’
‘With a good fighting spirit,’ observed de Marigny.
‘She clearly loved the lord Nicholas. And he loved her.’
‘At a price, Gervase.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did you not see what was right in front of your eyes?’
‘I saw a self-possessed woman who stood up for herself.’
Ralph exchanged a knowing glance with Hervey de Marigny.
‘It is easy to see that you were never a soldier,’ he said, slipping an arm round Gervase. ‘Asa is a comely girl and I have seen her kind in many towns. That sweetness did not disguise her occupation. If she can charm those holdings out of Nicholas Picard, she must be a remarkable young woman.’ He whispered in his friend's ear, ‘But she is also a prostitute.’
Gervase felt the hot blush rising swiftly up his face.
Chapter Eight
Tetbald the Steward was thorough. He organised a complete search of the house itself and sent men out in all directions to make a wide sweep of the property. When the lady Catherine joined him, she had recovered her composure but had an air of resignation about her.
‘Has the box been found?’ she asked.
‘No, my lady.’
‘Where have you searched?’
‘Everywhere.’
‘Including the undercroft?’
‘The undercroft, the outbuildings, even the stables. There is no sign of the box, my lady.’ He gave a reassuring smile. ‘But nothing else seems to have been taken. That is some consolation.’
‘Is it?’
‘The thief might have stolen your jewellery, my lady.’
‘He might also have murdered me in my own bed,’ she said with a quiet shudder. ‘That is what frightens me. A man was able to get into my house and enter t
he bedchamber next to mine in order to take that box. What if I had awakened while he was there? What if I had gone into my husband's chamber to investigate?’
‘It is as well that you did not.’
‘I will never feel safe in that bed again.’
‘You will, my lady,’ he said firmly. ‘I give you my word on that.’
Catherine nodded and touched his arm in a gesture of affection. They were in the parlour and the shutters were wide open. Dogs could be heard barking excitedly some distance away. Tetbald looked in the direction from which the sound came.
‘Why could they not bark like that during the night?’ he said.
‘Perhaps they did and nobody heard them.’
‘They are schooled to attack any intruders, my lady. No man could hold off four of them. The last time someone wandered on to the property at night, he was all but eaten alive.’
‘How, then, did the thief elude them?’
‘I do not know, my lady,’ he admitted. ‘Unless he fed the dogs some meat that was seasoned with a potion to make them drowsy. Yet the animals seem alert and healthy this morning. We found nothing wrong with them. It is all very puzzling.’
‘Puzzling and disturbing.’
‘I will get to the bottom of it somehow,’ he promised.
‘I hope so, Tetbald. This has shaken me.’
‘What was in the box that would make it such a target?’
‘I do not know. My husband kept it locked.’
‘And you have no key?’
‘I have been searching for it ever since …’ Her voice faded away.
‘Ever since his death.’
‘Yes, Tetbald,’ she murmured. ‘Ever since then.’
‘It was not in his bedchamber,’ he said. ‘I looked there myself. The lord Nicholas must have hidden it well. And that means the box must have contained items that he wanted nobody else to see.’
‘Not even his wife,’ she said dully.
‘Especially not you, my lady.’
He was about to reach out to her when the barking of the dogs grew louder. Looking through the window, he saw two men walking towards the house and carrying a wooden box between them. The dogs were scampering at their heels.
The Wildcats of Exeter (Domesday Series Book 8) Page 13
