one side of his face was frozen and that his left hand, which lay on the table, was a desiccated claw, bone white. He must have had a paralytic seizure. As coroner of Sussex, this was the man who had ordered Ellen to be forced screaming into a coach. Reverend Seckford had described him as a busy, bustling little fellow. Not any more.
We bowed and raised our heads to find two identical pairs of sharp, bright blue eyes examining us across the table.
'Well, this is quite a deputation,' the older man said. His voice was slurred, lisping. 'I had not thought to see so many. And a serjeant, no less. You must be Master Shardlake?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Sir Quintin Priddis, feodary of Hampshire. This is my son Edward, my assistant.' He glanced at the younger man, without affection I thought. 'Now, Master Hobbey I know, and this well-set-up young fellow must be Hugh.' He studied the boy closely. Hugh put up a hand to cover his scars. 'You have grown much, lad, since last I saw you. But why do you keep your hair polled so close? A good head of hair suits a young gentleman.'
'I am an archer, sir,' Hugh answered unemotionally. 'It is the way among us.'
A sardonic smile briefly distorted the right half of Sir Quintin's face. Hobbey said, 'This is Master Vincent Dyrick, my legal representative. The other two are the lawyers' clerks.'
'I am afraid there is a shortage of chairs in this poor place,' Priddis said. 'I cannot ask you to sit. But we shall not be here long; I have a meeting at eleven that cannot wait. Well, Master Shardlake, what questions have you for me?' He gave me a cold smile.
'You will know this case well, sir—'
'Not as a legal dispute.' Edward Priddis spoke quietly and precisely. 'My father knows this as an ordinary wardship, in his capacity as feodary. He assessed the initial value of the lands and has dealt with routine queries from Master Hobbey since then.'
Sir Quintin gave his crooked, mirthless half-smile. 'You see, my son too is a lawyer. As I was at the start of my career. He is right, but you, Master Shardlake, you believe there is some reason for concern.' I looked into those bright blue eyes, but could read nothing of the man except that he still had force and power.
'Sir Quintin,' I asked, 'when you refer to routine queries do you mean the cutting of Master Hugh's woodlands?'
'Indeed. Master Hobbey has always thought these were good times to exploit the demand for wood. I advised him that would be legal if Hugh was credited with the profits. Exploiting a resource on those terms is not waste, rather a wise benefiting from market conditions.'
Edward laid his hands on the papers. 'There are notes here of my father's discussions with Master Hobbey. You are welcome to see them.'
'I am concerned that the amounts recorded in Master Hobbey's accounts may not reflect the amount of prime oak I have seen in the remaining woodlands.'
Hobbey looked at me sharply. Dyrick addressed Priddis. 'The woodland that has been cut had much less oak than that which remains.'
'You will have seen the lands before the woods were cut down, sir,' I said to Priddis.
'I remember seeing mixed woodland. But that was five years ago, at the first cutting. And travel through woodland presents difficulties for me now.' He nodded at his dead white hand.
'Master Hobbey said your son rides the lands for you.'
'That is true,' Edward said. 'And I am sure my father's assessment is right. However,' he added smoothly, 'we will be staying in Portsmouth a few days more, and can journey out to Hoyland. I have no objection to riding out with you to look at the lands. You can show me what you mean.'
And you can interpret it as you like, I thought, for there is no real proof; it is too late to do anything. But, if nothing else, I wanted to get to know this pair better, for Ellen's sake. Edward Priddis would have been around twenty at the time of the fire, I thought, his father in his forties.
Sir Quintin smiled. 'Good. I will come out to Hoyland with you. I could do with a day away from this stinking town. I can still just about ride, but I will have to rest at Master Hobbey's fine house. Well, Master Shardlake, you see how we make every effort to cooperate with the court. We could come next Monday, the thirteenth. In the afternoon.'
Hobbey looked worried. 'Sir, we are having a hunt on Monday. It has been planned for many weeks. It would be awkward—'
'Ah, the hunt,' Priddis said wistfully. 'I used to love hunting. Well, Monday is the only day I can come. I am due to set off for Winchester on Tuesday. We need not get in your way. The hunt should be over by three o'clock, I hazard.'
Dyrick spoke then. 'I see little point in riding through the remains of long-felled woodland to try and work out what sort of trees once grew there. And the Bill of Information that started this matter spoke of monstrous wrongs. But Master Curteys has no complaints, I believe.'
Sir Quintin turned to Hugh. 'What say you, lad? Has any wrong been done to you by Master Hobbey or his family?' I looked at the feodary. He was relaxed, he knew what answer the boy would make.
'No, sir,' Hugh answered quietly. 'Only that I am not allowed to join the army, which is what I wish.'
Priddis laughed creakily. 'So many avoiding their obligations, and here is a fine lad offering to serve. But, young man, your place is at home. And in three years' time, you will be able to sue out your livery and take your place as a gentleman with your own lands.' He waved his good arm. 'Take your hand from your face; I of all people have reason not to be put off by blemishes. Stand forth boldly! If one attracts stares, that is how one must react. Eh, Master Shardlake?'
I did not reply. Hugh lowered his hand, and Priddis studied him a moment more. Then he looked at Hobbey. 'The boy has a pleasant aspect, despite those scars. Is there a marriage in prospect?'
Hobbey shook his head. 'I am leaving Master Hugh free to choose whom he would marry. There is no one at present.'
Priddis looked at me severely. 'It seems, Master Shardlake, that you may have been sent on a fool's errand. Your client risks heavy costs when the case returns to Wards.'
'It is my duty to investigate everything.'
Priddis inclined his head. 'I suppose that is your prerogative.'
Dyrick spoke scathingly. 'I fear Brother Shardlake will be pulling up the floorboards at the priory to see if there are any mice that might bite Hugh.'
Sir Quintin raised a reproving finger. 'Now, Master Dyrick, I am sure he would not go quite that far.'
Edward Priddis murmured to his father, 'We must consider the papers on Sir Martin Osborne's case this morning—'
'Quite right,' Sir Quintin agreed. 'Thank you, gentlemen, I will see you on Monday.' He smiled at Hobbey. 'If your hunting guests see me, tell them I am an old friend who has called by.' He gave his little cackle.
We bowed and left. Outside, Dyrick rounded on me angrily. 'God's blood, Shardlake, why will you not let this go? You saw what Sir Quintin thought of it all. Are you out to embarrass Master Hobbey on the day of his hunt?'
'Calm yourself, Brother. You heard Sir Quintin, he will not advertise his business.'
We walked downstairs in silence. The clerk who had shown us up was talking in deferential tones to two men standing in the doorway of the Guildhall. Both were dressed in fur-lined robes and caps despite the July heat, and each had a fat gold chain round his neck. They turned, and I recognized Sir William Paulet and Sir Richard Rich. I was so shocked I stopped dead at the bottom of the staircase, so that Hobbey bumped into me from behind. Paulet threw me a severe look, but Rich gave a little snort of laughter.
'Master Shardlake,' he said. 'We will not eat you. On my oath, you are turned into a nervous fellow since your time in the Tower.'
Mention of the Tower brought the buzz of conversation among the people in the hallway to a halt. Everyone looked round.
'Your enquiries are still proceeding, Brother Shardlake?' Paulet asked coldly. 'You must have been here, what, a week?'
'Five days, Sir William.'
Rich gave his thin smile. 'Oh, Master Shardlake was ever a persistent fellow. No matter what trouble his persistence may land him in.'
