The Wildcats of Exeter Page 18

  ‘Will I be called before you again?’ she asked.

  ‘It is possible,’ said Gervase.

  ‘What more can I tell you?’

  ‘We may need to test your reaction to evidence which is given by the other claimants. They, too, may be examined again.’

  ‘To what end?’

  ‘The pursuit of the truth,’ said Hubert.

  ‘But it lies in the documents I have already shown you,’ she said, indicating the satchel carried by Eldred. ‘Study them again if you are not convinced. I have waited a long time to regain this property and my patience is not unlimited. Why waste your time listening to claims that are patently fraudulent?’

  ‘There is nothing fraudulent about the lady Catherine's claim,’ said Gervase. ‘Her husband's will bequeaths those holdings to her. And the others involved in this dispute must also be heard.’

  ‘Heard then dismissed as impudent.’

  Hubert bridled. ‘That is for us to decide.’

  ‘Can you take the claim of Engelric seriously?’ she said with a muted contempt. ‘Or that of the abbot? They fight a battle whose outcome was settled long ago. As for the other extraordinary claimant …’

  ‘We cannot discuss any of the contestants with you, my lady,’ said Gervase firmly. ‘None of them have sought to pour scorn on you. It will not help your cause to be critical of them.’

  ‘I apologise, Master Bret,’ she said quickly. ‘You are right. I am letting my impatience get the better of me. You are the judges here and I am a mere supplicant. I bow to your authority.’

  ‘You have no choice but to do so,’ warned Hubert.

  ‘I accept that.’ She rose to leave. ‘I bid you farewell.’

  ‘One last thing, my lady,’ said Gervase.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘How do you come to know so much about the rival claimants?’

  ‘It is in my interests to do so,’ she said with a quiet smile.

  Ralph Delchard's concern served to deepen his irritation. He rode beside the sheriff and helped to supervise an exhaustive search of the city. It produced no results. Premises were searched and people questioned endlessly, but Hervey de Marigny's whereabouts were not revealed. As the afternoon shaded into evening, Ralph slapped his thigh in exasperation.

  ‘God's tits!’ he exclaimed. ‘He must be somewhere!’

  ‘Not in the city,’ said Baldwin.

  ‘We have not searched hard enough.’

  ‘Over sixty men have combed every street and building in Exeter, my lord. They even went into the crypt of the cathedral. The lord Hervey is nowhere to be found. Is there not a chance that he may have ridden out of the city without telling you?’

  ‘No,’ said Ralph. ‘Besides, his horse is in the stable.’

  ‘He may have procured another.’

  ‘For what purpose? Hervey de Marigny came here on royal business and he would not willingly have left until it was discharged. There is only one explanation here, my lord sheriff,’ he said grimly. ‘Foul play.’

  ‘Let us not fear the worst.’

  ‘We have to face the facts.’

  ‘He may yet be found in good health.’

  ‘I do not share your optimism. Search more thoroughly.’

  ‘My men have left no stone unturned,’ said Baldwin, ‘and your own men have been equally diligent. If the lord Hervey was in Exeter, we would surely have tracked him down by now. I will widen the search outside the city. It is the only thing left to do.’

  ‘Not quite, my lord sheriff.’

  ‘What is your advice?’

  ‘Arrest the abbot of Tavistock.’

  Baldwin blinked in amazement. ‘On what possible grounds?’

  ‘Concealment of evidence.’

  ‘Can you be serious, my lord? Do you really imagine that the abbot is involved in the disappearance of the lord Hervey?’

  ‘Indirectly, yes.’

  ‘What evidence do you have?’

  ‘That of my own eyes and ears. The lord Hervey told us that he would speak to Walter Baderon again when he came on duty at the North Gate.’

  ‘None of the sentries remembers seeing them together.’

  ‘None of the sentries admits to it,’ corrected Ralph, ‘but only because their master has told them to keep silent. Why did the abbot send this Baderon back to Tavistock if not to evade our enquiries? He is the key to this whole business, I feel sure.’ He became peremptory. ‘Put the abbot under lock and key while I ride to Tavistock to arrest Walter Baderon.’

  ‘I will do nothing of the kind, my lord.’

  ‘Then you are slack in your duties.’

  ‘Do you dare to insult me?’

  ‘No, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph with a note of apology. ‘You have acted promptly and put your men at our disposal. I am grateful for that. But I would be even more grateful if you would at least interrogate the abbot. I am certain that he is hiding something.’

  ‘I do not share that certainty.’

  ‘Why was the captain of his guard sent home?’

  ‘It might just be a coincidence, my lord.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’

  ‘The abbot is not responsible.’

  ‘He knows something,’ insisted Ralph. ‘I saw it in his eyes.’

  Baldwin was unmoved. ‘I have no cause to interrogate him, still less to issue a warrant of arrest. Have you any idea what complications would follow? I'd have the Church itself around my ears.’

  ‘An abbot is not above the law.’

  ‘The law requires proof of guilt, my lord, and you have none.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Ralph. ‘I'll tackle the abbot myself.’

  ‘No,’ ordered the sheriff. ‘I will lead this search. The lord Hervey told you that he would talk to this Walter Baderon but it is far from certain that he did so. The last reports we have of him come from my own sentries who saw him leave the castle. Something may have happened to him before he got anywhere near the North Gate. Be ruled by me, my lord. I will not condone intemperate action.’

  Ralph looked around him, his howl a mixture of anger and despair. ‘Where is he?’

  Gervase was troubled by severe misgivings. He walked up and down the street three times before he dared to approach the house. In answer to his tentative knock, Goda opened the door. She eyed him with suspicion. He stammered an enquiry but the servant did not have time to answer. Hearing his voice, Asa came swiftly out of the parlour.

  ‘Master Bret!’ she said with delight.

  ‘I was hoping to find you at home.’

  ‘You have brought me good news? My claim has been upheld?’

  ‘We have not yet reached a decision,’ he said, ‘and your claim may be in jeopardy. That is why I came.’

  She invited him in and closed the door of the parlour after them. ‘What is wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘You have not been telling me the truth, Asa.’

  ‘Yes, I have!’

  ‘You deliberately misled me.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘These letters,’ he said, taking the packet from his satchel and handing it to her. ‘Do you recognise them?’

  She winced visibly. ‘No, I do not,’ she said.

  ‘They bear your name.’

  ‘Then someone forged my signature.’

  ‘They could not have forged the contents, Asa,’ he said. ‘I have read the letters through and I know that only you could have written them.’

  A long pause. ‘Where did you get them?’ she asked finally.

  ‘They were delivered to me at the shire hall.’

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘By her!’ she sneered. ‘By the precious lady Catherine! Except that she would not deign to bring them herself. That creeping Tetbald would have been given the office.’

  He fixed her with a stare. ‘Did you write those letters, Asa?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘But only under duress.’

  ‘Duress
?’

  ‘The lord Nicholas made me write them.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He said that he wanted proof of my love,’ she sighed, ‘though he had ample proof of that in my bedchamber. He told me that he needed some token from me to help him endure the pain of being apart. These were private letters, Master Bret,’ she chided, ‘and you had no business to read them. I am disappointed in you.’

  ‘They touch on the dispute and can be construed as evidence.’

  ‘Evidence of my love for him. I freely acknowledge that.’

  ‘But there are other things you did not freely acknowledge,’ said Gervase sharply. ‘You gave me the impression that the lord Nicholas promised you those holdings as a spontaneous gesture of affection.’

  ‘And so he did!’

  ‘Then why does one of your letters demand written proof that you will be his beneficiary? You threatened to withdraw your favours unless he gave you a more visible sign of commitment. In other words,’ continued Gervase, watching her closely, ‘the letter which you produced before the tribunal was not the gift of a grateful man to a lover. It was a price exacted from him by you.’

  ‘No!’ she cried.

  ‘You sought to deceive us.’

  ‘That is not true.’

  ‘It was the lord Nicholas who wrote a letter under duress.’

  Asa burst into tears and hurled the letters away. In spite of himself, Gervase felt sorry for her and wanted to console her in some way, but he did not dare to reach out to her. He waited until her sobbing eased.

  ‘Why did you write in your own language?’ he asked.

  ‘It came easier to me. I could express myself more clearly.’

  ‘Did the lord Nicholas understand it?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘When he saw how well I could speak his tongue, he insisted on learning mine. We spent hours on end playing with words and phrases. He wanted to be close to me and that meant learning my language, difficult as it was for him. If that does not convince you that he loved me, then nothing will.’

  ‘The lord Nicholas loved you deeply, Asa. I am certain of it.’

  ‘Then why torment me like this?’

  ‘Because you exploited that love,’ said Gervase. ‘It is there in your letters. Every one of them contains some demand. He may not have paid for your favours with money but you still set a high price on them.’

  ‘I was worth it!’ she said with defiance.

  Gervase was suddenly alarmed. He wondered what he was doing there and how he could best extricate himself. If his colleagues discovered where he had been, he was not sure that he could adequately explain himself. Asa sensed his confusion. She took a step closer to him.

  ‘I thought you were a friend,’ she said. ‘I hoped that you would help.’

  ‘I have helped you, Asa.’

  ‘How? By reading my letters?’

  ‘By bringing them to you in person instead of showing them to my colleagues. You spoke to us on oath in the shire hall. Those letters show that you committed perjury and make your claim worthless.’

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘I earned that property.’

  ‘Not in any legal way.’

  ‘I meant more to the lord Nicholas than any woman alive.’

  ‘Then why did you have to wrest gifts from him?’

  ‘It was a game we played. He liked it that way.’

  ‘Don't lie to me, Asa.’

  ‘He wanted me to have that property.’

  ‘After his death,’ he reminded her, ‘and that must have seemed a long way hence when you forced him to write that letter of intent. Or did you think that the lord Nicholas might not have long to live?’

  Gervase himself was surprised by the force and directness of his question. It struck her like a whiplash and she flinched in pain. When she regained her composure, she looked at him with a hatred that was tempered with curiosity. Gervase could not tear his eyes away from hers. After a long pause, Asa reached out to take his hand in hers. He did not resist.

  ‘What really brought you to my house?’ she asked softly.

  The passage of time did not still her anger. Hours after her steward had returned from the shire hall, Catherine was seething. She preserved a dignified calm in front of the rest of the household, but Tetbald was allowed to see her true feelings. When they were alone again in the parlour, she rounded on him with her eyes blazing.

  ‘You swore to me that the matter would be decided today,’ she said.

  ‘I had every reason to believe that it would.’

  ‘You failed me, Tetbald.’

  ‘No, my lady.’

  ‘All those promises, all those proud boasts.’

  ‘You will still inherit the entire estate,’ he assured her.

  ‘That is what you said when you rode off this morning.’

  ‘There were problems at the shire hall, my lady. A long delay. Saewin would not tell me what caused it but two of the commissioners did not even turn up to examine me.’

  ‘Did you convince those who were there?’

  ‘Not completely,’ he confessed.

  ‘You had my husband's will in your hands.’

  ‘Even that was not conclusive, my lady. They haggled interminably. They are not yet sure if the holdings in Upton Pyne are a legitimate part of the inheritance.’

  ‘They have to be,’ she asserted. ‘I want everything.’

  ‘You shall have it.’

  ‘Not if I have to rely on you, Tetbald. Perhaps I need another advocate.’

  ‘It is too late to decide that now,’ he said with a scowl. ‘Before you blame me for things which were no fault of mine, you might remember what I have done for you so far. I have given good service.’

  ‘True,’ she conceded.

  ‘The lord Nicholas employed me but my first loyalty was towards you.’

  ‘I have not forgotten that.’

  ‘Then do not treat me so harshly, my lady.’

  ‘You displease me.’

  ‘Their judgement has been postponed a little, that is all.’

  ‘If it is postponed,’ she said angrily, ‘it means that it is no longer certain to be in my favour. There are doubts in the commissioners' minds. And you must have put them there, Tetbald.’ She walked away from him and was lost in her thoughts for some time. Tetbald smarted in silence. He had never seen her so angry before and it troubled him. When she swung back to him, her jaw was set. ‘I will go there myself next time.’

  ‘That would be folly.’

  ‘The folly lay in delegating it to you.’

  ‘I am used to such legal wrangling, my lady. You are not.’

  ‘My presence at the shire hall will be a weapon in itself.’

  ‘A weapon that can be turned against you,’ he argued. ‘It is only days since the funeral. His widow is expected to mourn in private, to be so overcome with grief that she will not stir from her chamber. You agreed that it would be unseemly for you to be involved directly in this dispute.’

  ‘Only because I trusted you to act on my behalf.’

  ‘And that is what I am doing, my lady.’

  ‘Not to my satisfaction.’

  She walked to the window and gazed out at the surrounding land. Stung by her criticism, Tetbald was anxious to win back her favour. He moved across to stand directly behind her. Catherine's ire seemed slowly to abate. He could see that she was more relaxed. When he ventured to put a hand on her hips, however, she tensed immediately.

  ‘I am sorry, my lady,’ he said, swiftly withdrawing his hand. ‘But I implore you to reconsider. Your appearance at the shire hall will contradict everything that I said about you. It could prove ruinous.’

  ‘I will take that chance.’

  ‘Would you throw it all away now when we have come so far?’

  She turned to face him. ‘We?’ she said coldly.

  ‘You could not have done it without me.’

  ‘That may be so, Tetbald, but I rule in this house now. I make my own decis
ions and do not look to you for approval. I will go to the shire hall. If a man's whore is allowed to assert her claim,’ she said bitterly, ‘then his wife ought at least to have the same entitlement.’

  Before he could stop her, she swept out of the room and ascended the stairs. Tetbald heard the door of her bedchamber being shut and bolted.

  Ralph Delchard was still locked in argument with the sheriff when the messenger brought the news. They abandoned their quarrel at once and followed the man-at-arms as he cantered through the streets towards the South Gate. Leaving the city, they followed the river for almost half a mile downstream until they came to a small crowd of people being held back from the bank by soldiers from the castle garrison. Ralph dropped down from the saddle and pushed his way past the onlookers. Baldwin lumbered after him.

  The body of Hervey de Marigny had been hauled from the water and laid on the bank. A soldier was bending over him to shield the horror from the gaze of the people behind him. When Ralph first saw his friend, he felt as if he had taken a violent blow between the eyes. He reeled back and needed a moment to steady himself. The sheriff, too, was appalled by the sight. Hervey de Marigny was almost unrecognisable. His face was hideously scored with lacerations and his throat was comprehensively cut. His lower lip had been bitten off. The body was sodden and limp, the limbs stretched at an unnatural angle. Water had washed most of the blood away, making the jagged wound on his neck look raw and livid. Ralph could still see the agony in his sightless eyes.

  ‘Who found him?’ he asked, kneeling beside the soldier.

  ‘I did, my lord,’ said the man.

  ‘Like this?’

  ‘No, he was half in the water. I pulled him out.’

  ‘Had he drifted downstream?’

  ‘I think not, my lord. It looks as if the body was dumped here. There was no attempt to weight it so that it would sink. It was almost as if the killer wanted it to be found.’

  ‘As a warning!’ said Baldwin, standing over them.

  ‘To whom?’ said Ralph.

  ‘All of us. This is some Saxon outrage.’