at the heart. Is this not so?”
Roger sat in silence for a moment, then replied. “They’d murdered Eleanor…least Sir Robert did so, an’ the squire was his man an’ helped murder poor Ralph.”
“How did Ralph know Eleanor was dead?” I asked. “Where did he see her with Sir Robert, and when?”
“’Twas near dawn, like. Ralph was sleepin’ in t’stable, as was his work to care for t’horses, an’ rose to relieve himself. He saw Eleanor wi’ Sir Robert creepin’ ’long the castle wall. ’Twas full moon, an’ before he thought to hide in t’shadows Sir Robert saw ’im. In t’mornin’, afore dawn, before we was about, Ralph said Sir Robert an’ t’squire come to marshalsea like to make an early start. Squire caught Ralph from behind an’ Sir Robert put his dagger to his heart.”
“And this was done while all others slept?” Lord Gilbert exclaimed incredulously.
“Aye. Ralph was only one who slept in t’marshalsea. An’ he feared to cry out lest Sir Robert see he yet lived and wound him again.”
“And they thought to strike him down because they knew he had seen Sir Robert with Eleanor?”
“Aye. Squire said as he’d put Ralph in t’same place, but Sir Robert said there was no time — folks would be stirring. Best to take him with ’em and leave his body in t’forest.”
“What then?” I asked.
“They threw Ralph on t’pack-horse, covered him, an’ set off while light was dim an’ t’porter could not see the shape of a man laid across the horse. ’At way they got poor Ralph out of t’marshalsea with no one t’wiser,” Roger explained.
“Ralph heard ’em speak of Eleanor dead,” he continued, “they thinkin’ he was, so didn’t mind their tongues.”
“What did they say of her?” I asked. “How she was killed? Where they hid the corpse?”
“Ralph did not say,” Roger continued, twisting his hands before him as he sat on the stool. “Hamo put his ear to Ralph’s lips to hear aught. Ralph said as t’squire was fearful, like, but Sir Robert told ’im not to vex himself wi’ worry; none would find her.”
“Well…we did,” I told him. But I did not say where.
“Then Sir Robert says, ‘Foolish wench. Had she not cried out she would yet live,’” Roger added.
“Why did she cry out?” I wondered aloud.
“Sir Robert promised to provide for ’er as his mistress. Ralph ’eard Sir Robert laugh ’bout it. When he’d had ’is way with her he made to send her off. She was not a lass to be put off so. Made such noise about it that Sir Robert slew her to silence her. So Ralph heard Sir Robert say.”
Roger, Lord Gilbert, and I were silent for a moment. What Roger said made sense, for Sir Robert had used a similar ploy with another. And with a third and more, I guessed.
“You took Sir Robert and the squire to the coppiced woods to bury them,” I said, “but stripped the bodies of valuables first. Is this not so?”
“Aye. But when we had done, we cast away some we’d taken.”
“Sir Robert’s blue cotehardie,” I completed his story, “and the squire’s dagger. You thought them too obvious for a troupe of jugglers and such.”
“Aye. An’ Sir Robert’s sword an’ dagger as well we abandoned in the forest.”
Lord Gilbert looked at me through the gloom. “The foresters?” he questioned.
“Them, or those weapons lay yet under the leaves,” I agreed.
“We have found the missing casket,” I concluded, “but as you have told us truthfully of this other matter, I recommend to Lord Gilbert that you be released. I believe you say honestly that you did not rob Lady Petronilla of her jewels. You would not, I think, be so foolish to hide the chest here had you done so.”
I looked to Lord Gilbert, whose face was now nearly invisible in the shadows. “I consent,” he agreed. Then, to the grooms, who had stood by the tent-flap and heard all, Lord Gilbert said, “You will speak of this to no one, until I release you of your oath. Take this fellow back, but hold him outside the hall. Do not permit him to speak to any of his fellows.”
“They will tell this tale before the morrow,” I advised Lord Gilbert when they had gone.
“Aye, they will…that I know. But they may yet hold their peace an hour or two, ’til we decide what must be done.”
“We, m’lord?”
“Aye. You have found a murderer. No…you have found out two murderers. And you are my bailiff. This business is now become your bailiwick as well as mine.”
“Hamo and Walter must be charged with Sir Robert’s death, and that of the squire,” I advised.
“Aye. You think the charge just?” he replied.
“A jury might say ’twas self-defense,” I answered, “and but justice done for Eleanor and the lad, but the charge must be made, I think.”
“What is your opinion of this business, Hugh? Will a jury release them? Do you wish that may be so?”
My mind had turned this very question for several minutes, so I could answer without hesitation. “I do, m’lord. I see no malice in Hamo or Walter, and I found nothing virtuous in Sir Robert.”
“Yet I would have welcomed him as brother-in-law,” Lord Gilbert mused. “My sister had better sense of the man than I.” He was silent briefly, then continued, “I hope her judgment of Sir Charles de Burgh is as valid, for she seems agreeable to his suit.
“I wish,” Lord Gilbert confided, “that when Hamo found his man left to die along the way he had returned and asked justice of me. This matter might have been resolved with less disorder and perplexity.”
“That is so. But you must understand that Hamo would fear miscarriage of justice.”
“How so?” Lord Gilbert frowned.
“You are a gentleman, as was Sir Robert. Hamo would fear a coroner’s jury — your men, all — might bend to your will and vindicate Sir Robert, heedless of the proofs against him.”
“He would mistrust me so?” Lord Gilbert muttered incredulously.
“He would mistrust any gentleman to find against another of his rank in favor of the commons.”
“Well, not so. But ’tis too late to persuade him of that. We must return to the hall and Sir John. I will place him in charge of the arrest.”
We did so. Sir John assembled a company of Lord Gilbert’s grooms and footmen, and together we entered the hall. Hamo, from a bench along the east wall, stood to his feet as we assembled. I think he suspected then that his deed was uncovered.
Had Hamo chosen to contest his arrest, I think the dozen men Sir John collected would have barely sufficed. But he did not resist, and so was seized there in the hall, with his son. Lord Gilbert approached from the high table and told him why. To this Hamo replied only, “He slew my daughter, and I repaid him in like coin.” Sir John took him and Walter to the keep. They offered no struggle, but neither did they leave the hall with bowed head or back bent in shame.
“I will release the others of Hamo’s company,” Lord Gilbert advised when the hall was finally cleared. “But not ’til you and Sir John have had time to return to Bampton with the prisoners. ’Tis an ill thing to travel in winter, but I would have you leave tomorrow. The weather remains clement, but who can judge when ’twill turn?
“Seek Hubert Shillside so soon as you reach Bampton. He must convene his jury. Roger the juggler must accompany you and the prisoners. Require of him that he tell the jurymen what he has told us. Should he resist, remind him of where the casket was found, and imply that I am of changeable passions.
“If the coroner’s jury charge Hamo and Walter, Sir John will conduct them and Roger to Oxford and put them in the hands of the sheriff.”
“And my work,” I sighed, “will be done.”
“Well…as regards this mystery you have revealed, aye. But my steward, Geoffrey Thirwall, will visit Bampton after Twelth Night to hold hallmote. You and John Holcutt must have the manor accounts ready for his inspection.”
Lord Gilbert wished to be certain that Hamo Tanner would not flee justice. His thick wrists were bound securely, as were those of his son. Roger was permitted to travel unencumbered. Six grooms accompanied Sir John and me as we made ready to depart Goodrich Castle so soon as there was light enough to travel.
“Ah…Master Hugh,” Lord Gilbert called as we made ready at the marshalsea to set off. “I forget me, with all that’s passed since Christmas. Wait a moment.”
