The Oath

‘It is said he only ever seeks more money,’ Sir Stephen remarked, looking at the gilded cup.

Sir Laurence eyed him coolly. ‘That could be said of many.’

‘Yes,’ Sir Stephen agreed. He shrugged. ‘Perhaps that poor maid Cecily was lucky to die when she did. Who can tell what will happen to this sorry city in the coming days?’

Bristol

It was some little while before Emma was recovered enough to be able to continue. ‘I feel so ashamed to have let her down.’

‘Madame, you have let no one down,’ Simon said kindly. ‘This Squire William – is he still in the city?’

‘I do not believe so. I certainly have not seen him for a long time now. I think he left Bristol when he was released – else many could have attacked him. I hope the shame drove him away, but then I doubt he knows what shame is. The man was a monster. It is one thing to slay those who threaten you – but a mere child of a few days old? How could he be so brutal? He is probably with the King’s host, fulfilling his parole.’

‘What of the boy’s father? This priest – you think he was the father?’

‘I would imagine so. I am sure that Squire William had nothing to do with fathering the child.’

‘Clearly. But if this Squire is gone, who else could have killed Cecily?’

‘There are others who were with Squire William when he committed his murders. Perhaps it was one of them?’

Simon considered. ‘This all happened when?’

‘Some months ago.’

‘Why, then, would the men seek to hurt her now? They were pardoned, why punish her and risk imprisonment again? Surely even murderers would be more rational than that?’

‘I do not pretend to understand such men,’ she said, ‘but I do understand how they might like to take revenge on someone who had caused them trouble. It’s a matter of honour to some of them.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. But what about the Squire? Is there aught else you can tell me about him? What did he look like?’

‘Middle height… very dark hair, the sort that looks thin always. Green eyes, I remember. Very pale and calculating. And his face wore a look of cruelty.’

Simon nodded as though noting her words, but for the most part he thought them useless. A man who had a ‘look of cruelty’ to a woman who considered him a foul murderer might well look like an amiable old charmer to another. Still, if the story was true, this man had deserved a far harsher punishment than a short period in gaol and then release. Which led him to the next logical question. ‘What happened to the priest?’

‘Father Paul? He was sent away. You’d have to ask someone else where he went.’

‘I shall do so. And you do not think that she knew Sir Laurence, apart from going to him to plead that these felons be re-arrested?’

‘No. He is the last person she would speak with.’

‘Very well. I am sorry indeed to have to tell you of your maid, madame. If there is one good piece of news, though, it is that she did die very quickly. There was one thrust, straight to her heart, so far as I could tell. She wasn’t raped, either. The inquest did make sure of that.’

‘I see. I am glad of that at least,’ Emma said. She dried her eyes and sniffed a little, then sat back. ‘So, master, will you search for her murderer?’

Simon gave a sad smile. ‘If ever a man picked a good time to commit a crime, it was this fellow. If you are right and the Squire has long since left the city, it will be difficult to accuse him. Also, he could not return with the gates locked. And if Squire William did not kill her – who did? Cecily was only a maidservant, so I do not imagine that she had anything of great value to attract a thief. Did she carry a purse?’

‘Only a small one.’

‘So the motive was unlikely to be robbery.’

‘Perhaps the Squire is here? He could have got back yesterday before the gates were locked,’ Emma said.

‘Perhaps so,’ Simon said, unconvinced.

‘So you will seek the murderer? Please?’

‘I will do what I may,’ Simon said. While the city holds, he wanted to add, but he could not be so unkind. Meanwhile, he would need to speak with the castellan.

River Avon near Bristol

Baldwin and Jack fretted as they waited, although Redcliffe was quick enough, throwing clothes into a leather satchel while his servants were packing the few belongings of any value and concealing them about the house. A hostler prepared his mare, and soon he was with them again. ‘I am ready, Sir Baldwin.’

‘Then let us go!’ Baldwin said, keen to be off.

‘One moment.’

There was a clatter of hooves, and Baldwin turned to see Roisea trotting around the corner on a great bay mare.

Baldwin turned to stare at Redcliffe. ‘You think to bring your wife?’

‘Would you expect me to leave her here, so that she can be raped and perhaps slain?’ Redcliffe said anxiously. ‘Come, follow me!’

They were soon out of the suburb and hurrying along towards the west. It was dark and grim, the rain still falling heavily. Baldwin’s rounsey twitched his ears irritably as the rain began to soak his coat, but beside him, Baldwin saw, Wolf wandered contentedly. There was no weather that could upset him. Still, it was a relief when the rain began to ease a little, just as they were making their way down towards the river.

It swept about here in a great arc, bulging northwards into the belly of the city but, following Redcliffe, Baldwin rode westwards towards the lower level of the river. They cantered along a track by the banks and soon came across a little shed with a thatched roof over cob walls. Down at the water’s edge, a large boat lay rocking gently.

‘Ferryman? Is there a ferryman here?’ Baldwin called, and dropped from his horse.

The door opened a little, and a bearded face peered out at him suspiciously. ‘What do you want?’

‘What should I want with a ferryman?’ Baldwin asked reasonably. ‘I want to cross to the other side of the river. How much for us and our horses?’

‘Just the four of you?’ the man asked.

Redcliffe sprang from his horse. ‘You know me, don’t you, old man? Remember Thomas who used to pay you in wine when my ships came in?’

‘Oh, Master Redcliffe. Course I remember you.’

‘Have you space for we four? The Queen’s men are behind us.’

‘Suppose so. There aren’t any others, then?’

‘What, do you expect me to bring the King’s host with me?’

‘Wouldn’t be surprised to find some o’ them trying to escape,’ the man grunted. ‘It’ll be getting exciting enough for anyone soon.’

‘I hope it will,’ Jack said.

The ferryman shot a look at Baldwin. ‘Aye, well, those who’ve not fought are always keenest for a fight,’ he muttered, and set about preparing his boat.

‘What did he mean?’ Jack asked.

‘Just what he said,’ Baldwin said. ‘Jack, war is not easy or pleasant. It’s not something to hope for.’

‘But I want to help the King!’

‘Perhaps so. And I do as well. But if there is a war, it means many good men will die on either side.’

‘If they are fighting against our King, they can’t be good,’ Jack said, and Redcliffe nodded.

‘The boy’s right,’ he said ‘The King’s enemies are the enemies of all.’

‘Men are men. On both sides there are good and bad. It is not the side on which they fight, it is the way that they live their lives and honour their responsibilities and duties. Remember that, if you can.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Jack frowned.

‘Yes, well, I doubt fewer than half the men who go to war will either,’ Baldwin said with a sigh.