Simon suddenly had a strange idea… then dismissed it. Surely, he thought, he was leaping to foolish conclusions. To clear his mind, he walked to the trough near the stables and sipped water from his cupped hands. After wiping a little over his face to refresh himself, he stared down into the water.
Wine! Simon had ignored the theft of the wine, at first because the abbot had told him to leave it alone, and later because there were so many other things for him and Baldwin to consider, with the murder of Wally and Hamelin, but there was still that central problem of the wine. Who had taken it – and why? For some reason he recollected what he had seen when he was leaving the abbot’s presence that first time, when he had just begun to suspect that Abbot Robert had lost his faith in him: a syphon.
Simon was still standing and thinking when he heard shouting at the entrance to the court. Looking up, he saw Ellis. At his side was an attractive woman, and he had his arms about her waist, while her head rested upon his shoulder. Ellis pointed to him meaningfully.
‘Christ Jesus, what now?’ Simon muttered to himself, and strode forward. ‘Well?’
‘Bailiff, this is my sister. I couldn’t tell you her secret before, but she is happy to tell you herself now.’
Simon glanced at her. ‘Lady? I don’t need to know if it will embarrass you.’
‘Embarrass me?’ She stared at him, her face empty for a moment as she recalled the last minutes she had spent with Joce. A sob threatened to burst from her bosom. All her hopes, which had been crushed on the day of the coining, then briefly fanned to life again today, had at last been shattered in horror as he attempted to throttle her. ‘My Lord, Joce swore his oath of marriage to me, in secret, purely so he could enjoy my body. Then he denied that oath in public, shaming me, and calling me whore. Today I saw him in town, and he assured me that he was my husband, that he would protect me and my child, but then he tried to kill me! He took me by the throat, see?’
Simon could see the red marks of fingers and a thumb. ‘Good Lord! Why?’
‘He wanted me to walk with him to his house. I think he wished to fetch fresh clothes, because he had fallen or been thrown from his horse, but I wouldn’t go with him. I have some pride left, even after his deceits!’
‘What happened then?’
‘He ran from me because two guards saw me being attacked by him at his back doorway.’
Simon nodded. ‘And where did he go?’
Ellis answered. ‘He knocked a man from his horse and stole the beast, riding up the road to the moors.’
‘Then he shall be caught by Sir Tristram’s men,’ Simon stated.
‘Won’t you fetch him?’ Sara asked.
‘I have other pressing matters,’ Simon said as gently as he could.
‘Did you know that Joce beat Wally on the day after the coining?’ Sara interjected quickly. She was determined that the bailiff should know. Seeing Simon’s quick interest, she told him about Joce’s words. ‘He said he had beaten Wally because Wally told him to leave me alone. Perhaps he did more than beat Wally, though?’ she finished.
Simon nodded doubtfully. No one had seen Joce up on the moors, so far as he knew. Ellis had said that Wally had been in a fight that morning. Maybe it was Joce who had beaten him. Joce himself showed no sign of having been thumped. Could he be so professional that he could protect himself against a strong lad like Wally?
‘I am grateful you told me this,’ he said, signalling to a passing novice.
‘Find Sir Tristram for me, lad. I think he is in the guest house still. Tell him that Joce Blakemoor has taken a horse towards his men.’ Turning to Sara, he added, ‘I shall tell the knight about his escape. Sir Tristram will find him and bring him back, never fear.’
She nodded fretfully. ‘I had hoped you would fetch more men and seek him out.’
‘There is no need,’ Simon said. He could see Sir Tristram, who descended from the guest rooms with a pot of wine in his hand.
‘Well, Bailiff? What is so urgent?’
Simon explained briefly. ‘This man Joce must be caught.’
Sir Tristram threw him a contented smile. ‘Fear not but that he shall be back here this evening, whether dead or alive!’
Simon left him then, as he bellowed for a fresh horse, and made his way up to the infirmary. At the doorway, he stopped, looking back.
Sara and Ellis still stood in the same place, Ellis with his arm about his sister’s waist, she with her eyes streaming with tears for her lost future, while Ellis merely gazed about him dumbly, like a man who had known that the world was cruel, but who had still hoped for better. He looked entirely crushed.
Joce slapped file reins over the horse’s flanks, whipping the old beast onward, even though the brute was faltering.
‘Fucking thing!’
The owner must have ridden this nag miles already. It was so frustrating! All he needed was a good animal to get him away, and here he was astride this broken-winded, knackered bag of bones. It was only good for the tanner’s yard.
‘Hurry up or I’ll slay you,’ he hissed, kicking as hard as he could, wishing he had spurs.
They were almost at the moors now, and they hadn’t passed any sign of the men yet. He was hoping that they might have continued along the line of the trees, in which case he should have a clear run to the Swiss travellers, but even as he hoped this, he saw someone else on
