Margaret remained silent, staring down at her husband with a strange sense of serenity. Her hands were bound, and she could not try to run from this odd little man with his terrifying prattle, inconsequential yet deadly. There was no point in trying to escape, since if she were to keep from his clutches, she would surely fall in the attempt. The planks up here on the highest level were thin boards of split timber, roughly cracked away from boughs in lengths by wedges hammered in with the grain of the wood, and they had all warped and twisted in the sunlight as they dried. Some had been lashed to the scaffolding, but much of it was loose, the workers relying on their own skill and sure-footedness for their safety.
She let herself slide down until she was crouched on a plank, hands gripping a vertical scaffold pole before her, and began praying. Her only regret was, if she were to die here this afternoon, that she had not been given a last chance to tell her husband how much she loved him.
Baldwin put a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “My friend, come away. There’s nothing else for you to do here. Why not…”
“Leave me be, Baldwin. You would not have me desert my wife while there’s still a chance I might be able to do something.”
“It would be better if you were to go.”
“Why?” Simon shrugged the hand from his shoulder, but when he turned, his face was not angry, only sad and anxious. “So that if she were to die, I would be spared the sight? Come now, what about her? Do you think she would be happier to see me leave her all alone, or would she be better pleased to know that I am here, and will do all in my power to save her? She may not want me to see her die, but she’d be devastated if I was to disappear. It would be the last indignity, to see me run when I might be able to help her.”
Baldwin felt the unfamiliar sting of dampness at his eyes, and he wordlessly rested a fist on his friend’s shoulder and nodded.
“In the meantime,” Simon muttered, “tell someone to get all the workers away from the place. The last thing we want is the bloody fool to become scared by them and kill Meg and himself.”
“Master?” Hugh came and stood beside them, squinting up at the figures high above. His voice was calm and quiet. “There’s a second set of ladders on the other side of the church. I think I could get up there.”
“Are you sure?” Simon’s face showed his desperate hope, and Hugh nodded.
Ever since Simon had rescued him from the tedium of life as a sheep farmer on the northeastern limits of the moors, out at Drewsteignton, Hugh had been devoted to Simon. When he married, Hugh had quickly grown to adore Margaret, and his feelings for Edith and Peterkin had bordered on adulation. It was impossible for him to stand by and watch the woman die and then, as must inevitably happen, the ruination of his master: the idea was unimaginable. “I can do it,” he said confidently.
“It’s a long way up,” Baldwin said uncertainly. He knew only too well that Hugh was terrified of heights, and had only recently overcome his fear of being as high as on horseback.
“I can do it,” Hugh repeated stubbornly.
“Very well,” Simon said. “Show me where it is. I’ll…”
“Simon, no!” Baldwin interrupted. “You mustn’t! You must remain here and talk to Adam, try to distract him so he doesn’t see us approaching.”
“I must do something. Hugh here can show me how to get up there, then I can try to save her.”
“Master, Sir Baldwin is right,” Hugh said urgently. “You have to be here where she can see you. Like you said, how will she feel if she sees you going?”
“And how will I live with myself if I do not try?” Simon asked, but he was cut short by the butcher, who began waving his arms and bellowing. Simon watched, hardly heeding as his wife slipped down to sit, exhausted from exertion and fear.
“Bailiff? You can hear, can’t you? How do you feel about your wife being killed, eh? How would you like to see her down there with you right now? Shall I push her, make her fall? Or should I stab her first, so she’s dead before she lands? Which would you prefer?”
“Baldwin,” Simon muttered, “I have to go up there.”
“You cannot. I shall go in your place. No, Simon, no arguing. You must remain here: the man clearly knows you and is trying to get at you for some reason. Listen to him – he is mad, but not stupid. If you disappear even for a moment, he will notice, and what then for Margaret’s chances? This is not a matter of honor, any more than disputing a path with a rabid wolf is honorable. Both are situations which call for serious actions. With a wolf one must kill it or die; here we must kill Butcher before he can harm Margaret…
“Simon, you must stay here! Occupy him – keep him talking. Hugh, you come with me,” Baldwin commanded. He made his way back toward the road, Hugh and Edgar following. Once in the street, they went a short way west, until they were hidden by a tall hedge. “Now, Hugh, lead on. But remember, be quick!”
24
She shivered. It was not because of any inclemency in the weather, for she could feel the warmth of the late-afternoon sun on her right shoulder. Ahead of her was a high hill, for Crediton and the church lay in a valley, and all she could see was the tips of the trees rising up the hillside and over its summit. This late in the year, their leaves were yellow, brown or red, and the gold of the dying sun’s light tinted them with a roseate hue. Each individual plant seemed to glow with an inner glory, and she found herself wondering in awe at such beauty. It was as if she had gone through her life without noticing such things before, and seeing these colors for the first time made her appreciate how precious such simple sights were. The rich gorgeousness of the picture pulled at the strings of her heart, and a quick sob surprised her, as unexpected as a sudden sneeze.
Squaring her shoulders, she looked away. She refused to allow the butcher to think her scared.
But Adam was paying her no heed. Leaning over the low railing, he leered down. “You thought you’d fooled me, didn’t you, Bailiff? Thought the wool was pulled over my eyes. But I’m not a cretin, I can see things when they face me, and I could see you’d taken the mercenary’s money to prevent him being arrested.”
“I have taken no money from him,” came the bewildered protestation from below, and Adam snarled in disbelief.
“No money? No bribe? You, an official, refused to take a bribe to defeat justice? You must be an honorable, virtuous man, Bailiff, a truly perfect gentleman. You expect me to believe that, when after all the proofs you refused to have him arrested? He was guilty of adultery, of murder, and all the women who died were associated with him, weren’t they? Who else could be suspected?”
Simon stared up at the man. The little rotund face which the bailiff had previously thought to be practically comical in its good humor, was strained, and the features worked uncontrollably. “Please, God, hear my prayers. Let Baldwin reach him before he can hurt my Meg,” he breathed.
The wall led round the perimeter of the church, and out to an alley behind, and it was here that the three men paused. They could discern shouting from the front, but there was no sound from here, at the back. With a short nod, Baldwin led the way at a run. They crossed beneath some huge trees, to the yard behind the church.
Here massive blocks of red stone lay in orderly piles, while chips and fragments crunched under their boots, strewn all over as liberally as clitter on the moors. Tools lay all around: sledgehammers and chisels, saws and drills, buckets and ropes, windlasses for pulling heavy loads up to the highest levels, anvils and braziers, all rested where they had been dropped by the startled workers.
To their left was the first of the ladders. Baldwin looked at it apprehensively. It seemed strong and heavy, constructed to take the weight of many men and their loads. Its solid rungs were hardly worn, and he noted that it must be of fairly new construction, but as his eyes followed its path skyward, he swallowed. It was a very long way to the top.
Forcing down his fear, he cautiously made his way to its base, standing with his hands on either rail, and steeling himself, began to climb.
The first quarter of the ladder was little problem. He refused to glance down, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on
