Silence greeted his words. The boy looked down and rested his brow on his arm, sobbing without a sound, while another man stared at Baldwin in confusion. He was one whom Baldwin had punched with the pommel of his sword. There was the imprint of the steel on his forehead, and the eyebrow beneath was torn and bloody.
The bearded man said nothing, but his eyes were fixed on Baldwin as though unsure how to respond.
‘You have nothing to say in your own defence?’ Baldwin enquired. ‘In that case, I shall have to ask for the Bailiff to come and take you, then.’
‘What would you have us say, master? You want us to pretend it was an accident?’ the man sneered.
‘Since you ask, I would know this: why did you choose to attack us last night?’
‘We’re going to hang, so why should we answer you?’ the man with the injured brow demanded.
‘Fair enough.’ Baldwin looked at them all, one by one. ‘If there is no mitigating circumstance, as Keeper of the King’s Peace, I have no choice but to hand you to the law.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Simply this: as draw-latches and robbers, you are felons, and you will hang. Of course, if you were motivated by some other…’ He let the sentence hang, watching the bearded man again.
The boy lifted his head and began to speak. ‘Sir, I didn’t know we were–’
‘Shut up!’ the bearded man growled. ‘Don’t go speaking when it’s not your turn.’
Baldwin looked at the boy. ‘It is your turn, fellow. If you want to live, you should speak your mind.’
‘I don’t want to hang! We were paid, sir, and I–’
The bearded man turned and hissed viciously at the boy, who paled and withdrew, shuffling his arse towards the wall.
Baldwin sucked his teeth. ‘You, boy, will be taken outside in a moment,’ he said, and then his tone hardened as he eyed the bearded man. ‘I am inclined to hang one of you today as a deterrent to all those who think that they can waylay a knight. So you will die. And then I can learn all I need about you from the boy there.’
‘You can hear what you want from anyone when I’m dead.’
‘If you reconsider, you could all live. Which would you prefer?’
‘You will release us if we tell you the truth?’ the bearded man scoffed. ‘Is that what you’re trying to tell us?’
‘I have no desire to see bloodshed. I only want to know why you chose to attack us last night. You must have seen I had little enough with me. Did you mean to steal my horse?’
‘Not you, sir. We didn’t want to attack you,’ the boy protested.
‘Who, then? The man with us had no money, that much was obvious when you looked at him.’
‘We didn’t mean to rob him,’ the boy said. ‘We were paid to
That day began much like any other for Cecily. She rose before dawn, and left the house to seek bread for the breakfast, and then began her chores while Emma Wrey set about her board.
Cecily had not expected her new mistress to be quite so accommodating and generous. Bristol was a good city, with many kindly folk, but not many would want the bad fortune of someone like Cecily in their houses. There were too many superstitions about servants from unlucky households bringing bad luck with them for her to expect such a pleasant home again.
Emma was different. Perhaps it was the fact that she was responsible for herself. Her husband had been a good man, like some kind of angel. But even angels can die, and eventually he fell dead in the street after an evening’s drinking with friends at an inn.
It was some little while after the murders that Cecily had found herself in this house. Before that, she had been forced to find what she could on the streets again, hawking eggs and flints for whatever she could charge. It wasn’t easy, but at least she gathered in some store of coin.
There had been nothing for her when the murders had been investigated and the men caught. Certainly nothing in Arthur’s will. That was little surprise, but she had hoped that she would be protected by a gift of some silver or a spoon from Petronilla. She had two shillings saved, but that was all she had in the world. The Coroner had offered her money, but she wouldn’t touch it. Instead, she found herself what work she could.
It was the purest good fortune, so she thought, that Emma had heard of her plight and called Cecily to her house. She had been looking for a companion and maidservant for some weeks, she said, and when she hired Cecily soon afterwards, it was a huge relief. Life on the streets was growing alarming. Cold weather meant that selling goods from her basket left her fingers like icicles each evening. Often the only way a woman could survive was by joining the ranks of the prostitutes, and at the age of thirty, Cecily would find that a hard profession.
This morning being a Thursday, she wandered along to the fleshmarket to buy meat for their meal, and spent some time musing over the different cuts before making her selection; she dawdled a little, buying eggs, and some larks from a poulterer. She would cook them with honey later, she decided, and serve them before the main meats. Larks were such tender, sweet little birds.
It was while she was there, packing her purchases into her basket, that she saw the men.
Neither paid her any notice. Not even when she dropped her basket, smashing the eggs, her mouth gaping. Fortunately, she was too far away.
But she knew them. Their faces were all too familiar. They were two of the men she had seen and pointed out at the inquest. The men who had been gaoled for going to her mistress Petronilla and holding her while Squire William stabbed her with his gold-handled dagger. They were the men sentenced to death for snatching the child from Cecily’s arms and dashing his brains out against the wall in the front courtyard of the Capon house.
It felt as though her heart would stop with the horror.
CHAPTER TEN
Baldwin walked back inside the inn and glanced about him. Seeing Redcliffe sitting at the table still, he closed the door behind him, and then walked over to the innkeeper’s door and closed that too.
‘Master Redcliffe,’ he said, crossing the floor.
Redcliffe saw something in his face as Baldwin strode to him, and stood hurriedly. ‘What? What have I done?’
‘You have lied to me,’ Baldwin said. He pushed Redcliffe back, both hands on the man’s shirt. ‘Those men weren’t here to rob you, were they?’ he continued as he thrust Redcliffe against the wall. He lifted the man and shoved him a little harder against the rough limewashed surface, smiling thinly. ‘You lied, because you said that no one had a reason to hate you, that you had no enemies, didn’t you? Yet someone has paid those men out there to kill you.’
‘I didn’t think–’
‘No, I don’t suppose you did.’ Baldwin was furious to have been lied to, and the thought that he had given his sympathy to this man made him still more angry. ‘I think you should remain here with them, and we should let you explain the position to the local Bailiff.’
‘It would be a mistake,’ Redcliffe said.
‘What – you threaten me? You seek to threaten
‘No, Sir Baldwin. Hear me out, but in God’s name, let me down first.’
Baldwin opened both hands and let him fall. ‘If it were up to me, I would leave you in the gaol here to tell the Bailiff what the reason for this was, and the local Justice of Gaol Delivery might decide whether you or the felons were more guilty.’
‘I am not guilty, Sir Baldwin. Are you a loyal subject of the King?’
At that, Baldwin shoved Redcliffe against the wall again, while his other hand grasped his sword hilt.
‘No, Sir Baldwin, please, I must ask this: are you loyal to the King or not?’
‘I am his loyal subject,’ Baldwin rasped. ‘Why, do you mean to insult me?’
