‘There was no reason to think Anney would have tried to harm the boy, Sir Baldwin,’ Stephen said sharply. ‘She blamed him, certainly, but that’s different from harbouring a lethal grudge. Her boy fell into the well – you know how dim these villein children can be. The only aspect of culpability was Master Herbert’s inability to call for help, but he was only three years and a half at the time, and not many boys so young would have been able to do anything. The Church shows us that children are like lunatics – they don’t act with free will because they can’t distinguish between right and wrong. That’s why children under fourteen aren’t legally responsible for their actions. Anney wouldn’t have hurt him, I am sure. No doubt she regretted he didn’t call for help – but regret is a different emotion from that which demands the wreaking of vengeance. She’s a good woman; she wouldn’t bear ill-feeling towards Master Herbert.’
‘What of her husband?’
‘Ah, well, he’s no longer here for us to ask him. I fear he shan’t be seen in these parts again.’ Stephen gave a thin smile. ‘I arrived in Throwleigh a little before the drowning of her child and he was gone by then; I heard he went shortly after the birth of the second boy. Tom, the boy who died, wouldn’t have known him. I understand Anney gave and received nuptial vows, but his promises weren’t valid: he was already wedded. The bastard left her to raise both boys fatherless.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘Back to his first wife – somewhere down towards Exeter, I heard. Her brothers came and collected him.’
‘This Anney must be lonely.’
Stephen looked at him with genuine surprise. ‘Why should you think that? She has enough to keep her busy. She even has her own cottage in Throwleigh, although it looks ready to collapse.’
Baldwin thanked him, and soon after left the priest to prepare for the interment of the child. The knight walked thoughtfully down the stairs and out into the yard towards the stables, but every now and again his attention was drawn to the door of the storeroom, where Herbert’s body waited for its burial – and on his face was fixed a puzzled frown.
Simon was surprised to find his friend outside. ‘Thanks for leaving me with the repellent Thomas, old friend. I look forward to repaying the compliment. You’ll be delighted to hear that the new lord of the manor has gone to prepare for his breakfast so we’re safe from him for a while.’
‘Thank the Lord God for that at least!’
Simon noticed his expression, and the movement of his eyes towards the storeroom’s door. ‘What’s on your mind, Baldwin?’
Baldwin shook his head. ‘I cannot help wondering… Simon, Herbert’s body showed all the signs of having been run over, didn’t it? Yet we only saw the corpse at night, in darkness, didn’t we?’ he added, as if to himself.
‘Baldwin, are you thinking…?’
‘Simon, his death was not viewed by all as a particularly sad occurrence. To his uncle it was an absolute godsend, because he could acquire this land; to Lady Katharine’s maid it meant revenge, because Herbert saw her son drown without calling for help; Lady Katharine herself apparently blamed her son for the death of her husband. And then we have this steward enthusiastically advocating the arrest of the farmer, and it turns out that even the damned priest wasn’t fond of him!’
‘Don’t suggest the priest was responsible,’ the bailiff chuckled, but then his manner changed. ‘You’re right, Daniel was insistent this morning, wasn’t he? You don’t think he considers his new master could be guilty of killing his nephew, do you? That would explain why he was to keen to have us return.’
Baldwin didn’t meet his eye. ‘When we came here before, I told you I felt responsible because I should have seen the danger surrounding the child. Hearing that he had been run down and died by accident was a relief, but now I have to wonder whether I was right to assume that.’
‘You saw the body – so did the Coroner,’ Simon pointed out. ‘The death has been recorded as an accident.’
‘Yes, but what if the Coroner, like me, only saw the child in the dark of the storeroom?’
Simon gave a low sigh. ‘What do you wish to do?’
‘We have to see the body again, Simon. We have to.’
Chapter Fourteen
The Lady Katharine sat in the hall, at her side the maid whom Baldwin correctly assumed to be Anney. He had not studied her before, but did so now and liked what he saw. She had a broad, intelligent face with calm grey eyes, and looked the kind of woman who would be steady in an emergency.
Unfortunately they were not alone. Servants bustled about under the stern gaze of Daniel, who studiously ignored Baldwin; Thomas of Exeter stood near the fire, a smirk of contentment on his full features, sipping wine from a cup as he surveyed the room; James van Relenghes sat with his guard at a bench nearby. Then, as if there weren’t already enough people, the priest came in. Baldwin felt exposed and unwelcome, making his request in front of so many, but he knew he must go ahead and do it.
‘My Lady, may I ask for a moment of your time – perhaps in private?’
Lady Katharine wore a thin, gauzy veil over her eyes, and he couldn’t read her expression from her thin, bloodless lips, but he could hear the petulance in her voice. ‘Now, Sir Baldwin? Can’t it wait a day? My son’s dead and I have his funeral to think of. Leave me to my grief for this day at least!’
‘I cannot, Lady,’ Baldwin said quietly and regretfully. ‘I have but one request to make. There are some facts which have come to my notice, and I would like to see your son’s body again – in daylight.’
She seemed to stiffen. Her hand, still gripping a small swatch of cloth, froze into immobility by her face. ‘Why?’ she demanded agitatedly.
‘Lady, I only saw his body in the dark, and now I have heard things which might mean…’
‘You think he was murdered? That it wasn’t an accident?’ she said, her voice rising with an edge of hysteria.
Before Baldwin could answer, James van Relenghes approached, shaking his head sadly. ‘This will not do, Sir Baldwin. It is not fair to discompose the lady on the day she is to bury her only child. There can be no excuse, sir, none. Do you really mean to say you think Herbert was murdered?’
‘I do not know,’ Baldwin said unhappily. As he spoke, the Fleming took Lady Katharine’s hand and patted it comfortingly, as if she needed protection from Baldwin himself. The knight did not like being cast in the role of bully manipulating a poor widow, and he allowed a hint of truculence to seep into his voice. ‘It is regrettable, but we have to make sure, as far as is practicably possible, that it was a mere accident that he died.’
‘I won’t have it!’ Thomas cried suddenly. ‘You are trying to make out that someone here had wanted to kill the boy, and that’s not on. Think what people would say – especially die serfs.’
‘Consider, Master Thomas, what people would say if you refused permission for us to inspect the body in daylight,’ Simon said mildly.
Thomas gaped. ‘What do you mean? Are you threatening me?’
‘No,’ Baldwin said suavely, ‘but the good bailiff is quite right. What would people think if they heard that the man who prevented a proper inspection was the very man who benefited from the death of the heir?’
‘If you put it like that…’ Thomas said, suddenly pale. ‘Maybe it – urn – it would be better to allow you to carry on.’
‘In God’s name! Do as you wish!’ Lady Katharine burst out.
‘My husband is gone, and now so is my beloved son. All your vaunted skills cannot avail me. Do what you think necessary!’ She turned on her heel and stalked off to the other side of the room.
And Baldwin noticed that James van Relenghes went immediately to her side.
Nicholas and two of his men respectfully carried Herbert from the storeroom, using an old door as a stretcher, and set the corpse down on a thick rug laid over the cobbles of the yard. Removing the door, they stood back quietly, waiting for Baldwin to carry out his inspection. The knight spent some minutes gathering together a small jury, and only then did he go to stand by the body.
