It took little time for Baldwin to describe the scene he had found the night before, or to summarize the evidence he had been given by the bottler and first finder.
When he was finished, Simon took a long gulp of wine and sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “So you haven’t done too much yet. You’ve only spoken to one neighbor and a wounded servant. There’s still this other neighbor… who is it? Anyone I know?”
Baldwin grinned. Simon had lived in Crediton and the surrounding area for many years before moving out to Lydford with his new job. “It was Irelaunde.”
“That little bastard!”
“Simon!”
“What, Meg? Oh-I’m sorry, Jeanne. But Christ’s Blood, Baldwin, if he lives close, he’s the first man you should question. You know what sort of a character he is!”
Baldwin leaned back with a beatific smile. “It is a wonderful relief to have you here, Simon. Up until now I hadn’t realized how much I relied on your judgment and fair-mindedness. I was thrashing around and going through the motions without thinking about the crime itself.”
“So you’ll go and see him immediately?”
“No. I’ll go and speak to the man’s daughter. You’ve just told me how the locals will all think, and I’d better get my hands on the real killer before some fool decides to take the law into his own hands and lynches the wrong man!”
Simon gave a short laugh. He knew that he was often prone to leap to conclusions, and overall he was content with the trait. In the main, while he worked out on the moors, settling disputes between miners and landowners, it was a useful ability, to be able to see who was the most likely culprit, or who was probably at fault. With simple arguments, such as who should be permitted to change the flow of a stream, or whether a tenement- holder had the rights of pasturage over a particular plot, there was little analysis required. It was more a case of applying common sense and maintaining an attitude of fair play. For that, Simon’s brand of quick intuition often saved a lot of time.
“I’m glad you’re here, Simon,” Baldwin continued more seriously, and Simon felt his smile broaden. The knight’s words carried too much sincerity for him to be doubted.
“So when are you to go and speak to this young woman?” Jeanne asked. “Is there time for us to get to your house first?”
“With your permission, lady, I will send you off with my servant. Simon, you have brought Hugh with you?” The bailiff nodded. “Then, Jeanne, you will have two good men to protect you on your way.”
“Jeanne has better protection than you realize, Baldwin,” said Margaret lightly.
The knight threw her a baffled glance, but had no time to ask what she meant, for there was a sudden commotion from the buttery. Muttering under his breath, Baldwin rose to his feet, but before he could discover the cause, the cause discovered him.
Edgar fell back from the doorway, his arm round Cristine’s waist, staring at the door with a smile of sheer delight. There was a short silence, then Baldwin watched with astonishment as Simon’s servant, Hugh, hurtled out, slipping on a patch of wet rushes and falling over. He sat up, rubbing a sore elbow and glowering ferociously as a massive shape filled the doorway.
“I said you’ve had enough!” the shape boomed. “That means you won’t have any more ale. I’ll not have a drunk escorting my lady.”
“Baldwin,” Jeanne said sweetly, “my maid didn’t join me at Tavistock, so you haven’t met her, have you? This is Emma.”
Ralph crossed the small yard to the chapel, and stood at the entrance, wiping a hand over his forehead. The night before he had sat up with one of the older inmates while he slowly faded, dying just before dawn. The monk sighed. It was a hard duty that he had taken up. The only certainty was that his flock would diminish faster than any other.
Opening the door, he walked inside, and was about to reach for his broom when he heard the regular sweeping. It brought a tired smile to his lips. “Mary?”
“Oh, Brother Ralph, I didn’t worry you, I hope?”
He could see her face now, vaguely anxious, as if her taking on the cleaning could be construed as an insult to his own cleanliness. “No, my dear. No, I am very happy that you should help me, but…Surely you have other things you could be doing?”
“No, sir,” she said, leaning on her broom-handle and speaking with a calm certainty. “I want to help the men here.”
“Mary, you are young. You will find another man to marry. It’s not right that you should stay here, among all this disease.”
“I know my man has always been a good soul. It was my intention to marry him, and if I can’t, I won’t marry at all. Anyway, I can do more good here, for you, for your lepers, and for my soul, than I could by becoming a farmer’s wife. No, I was prepared to wed Edmund Quivil, and if he’s going to die, then at least I can see he dies easy in his heart. He’ll know that I’ve always been loyal to him.”
Ralph sat at a stool, and gestured for her to follow suit. “But perhaps your presence is not so beneficial?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Well, you see, he can watch you every day here, and that must be unsettling for him. He was to marry you, as you say. If he loves you, how would he feel knowing you are here with all the other lepers?” He held up a hand to prevent interruption. “Your being here, near him, must always be a sore temptation.”
At this she laughed. “Oh, Brother! You think he might rape me? My Edmund?”
“You may find it hard to believe, but worse things have happened to young women in lazar houses. And even if he doesn’t, don’t you think it might be cruel to remind him of what he is missing?”
“Like letting the bull see the heifers but keeping him fenced off?”
“Well, er, yes. Something like that.”
“I suppose it’s possible. But I think my Edmund would prefer to see me here and know I care for him still than wonder what I was doing outside. And if you’ve heard the talk, I don’t care what people say!”
This last was said with a sudden passion, and Ralph nodded slowly. “The people of the town can be very cruel, but try to forgive them. They don’t understand-all they know is, they’re scared of the disease that we hold in here.”
“Saying I’m no better than a whore!” she declared hotly. “They ought to know better.”
“Well,” he sighed, “some misguided people believe that leprosy is an evil brought about by lust. They think it’s transmitted by intimate relations, and therefore lepers are especially libidinous.”
“You don’t?”
“No, Mary, and even if they were, that would be no reflection on you. I think my charges have more important things on their minds than fornication. They have their eyes firmly fixed on the life to come, or on how their poor, tortured bodies will be eaten up and destroyed by their disease. Anyway, I don’t believe that leprosy is sexually transmitted. It’s a gift from God, and the sufferers should be honored. I agree with St. Hugh of Lincoln, that the more deformed they are, the more they suffer here on earth, the more brightly their souls will shine in Heaven. They have been sent their diseases to teach us all how we shall be tormented with pain in Purgatory. Their Purgatory is here, now!”
“Yes, Brother. But if it is a gift from God, then maybe He intends honoring me too.”
“We should never presume to look for such things from God,” he said sententiously. “Whatever He decides for you, you must accept it.”
“But it cannot be wrong for me to want to help look after His own selected people.”
“No,” he said uncertainly. It was considered that women were capable of looking after others in certain circumstances, he knew. “Except I really do think you should be considering starting a new life without Quivil. He’s lost to you now.”
“So he is, but that’s no reason why I shouldn’t help you, is it? Especially since by so doing I’ll be helping those whom God Himself has chosen to be a sign to us all.”
“Well…I suppose so.”
“Then I’d better get on with the sweeping.”
