King's Gold

‘I didn’t say that!’ Dolwyn declared fiercely. ‘I said I was accused. I wasn’t guilty.’

‘Were you found guilty in a court?’

‘No.’

‘But the coroner recorded that you were.’

‘No, only that there were some arguments that day.’

‘Tell us, Master Dolwyn of Guildford, were you serving the King’s household at the time?’

Simon looked at the accused man and would have sworn that he rocked back on his heels at those words. He had not expected to hear that, Simon guessed. The man had assumed that his past was secret. How, Simon wondered, had the truth been betrayed?

‘I was.’ Dolwyn’s voice sounded as though there was an obstruction in his throat.

And who were you accused of killing?’

Simon could feel the tension in the room as though all the people in the room were waiting, but Dolwyn did not speak.

‘I ask again,’ the steward said in a tone of heavy patience.

The accused man blinked and struggled with his breath as though suffocating. Eventually he whispered ‘My wife. My child. They died,’ Dolwyn went on. ‘But it wasn’t murder. I wasn’t hanged.’

‘Because you ran? You abjured the realm?’

‘No.’ The voice was ragged.

‘What happened to your wife and child?’

‘They were in the house. I was out for the night at the tavern, and I’d had a lot to drink. When I got home, my wife was in a rage with me. I hit her.’

‘You killed her.’

‘No! I swear it! But she had been shouting at me, and all I did was punch her. And then I went out to cool my head, and when I came back the place was on fire. I tried to rescue her . . .’

‘You killed her. She fell into the fire, and the house caught light.’

‘I tried to get back inside to save her and my daughter, but the men in the vill stopped me. They held me back.’ How did this steward know of all that? Dolwyn had told Matteo, but no one else.

‘So this is the sort of man you are. A killer even of your own family. A danger to others. My lord, I have no more questions. Here is exactly the kind of fellow who would take advantage of a traveller, kill him, and rob him of all he possessed.’

‘I did nothing! My family wasn’t meant to die!’

‘You expect us to believe that?’ the steward spat.

‘What of the jury?’ Lord Berkeley asked.

The men who stood at the wall nearest Simon fell to talking amongst themselves, and then they nodded to the steward. He asked if they had reached a conclusion. There was a muttering, and then he asked them for their decision.

‘He’s guilty, master.’

The steward addressed Dolwyn. ‘You’ve heard their conclusion. What do you have to say?’

‘I didn’t harm him. I wouldn’t have, because I knew he had a wife and child at home. After he told me that, it would have been impossible for me to lay a finger on him. I’d not have hurt him any more than I’d have hurt them. Master Matteo, help me!’ he pleaded, turning to Matteo.

Matteo nodded, and Simon saw him give a quick frown as if of reassurance. The gesture was so swift, Simon could almost have believed that he had imagined it, but then he saw Matteo’s hand pat his purse, and understood. The Bardi would pay to save him.

Lord Berkeley leaned forward. ‘Well, this is my court, and I believe that the jury is fair and just in their conclusions. So it is my belief that you are guilty. You murdered Ham, you stole his horse and cart, and you would have made off with your booty if the brave knight here had not prevented you. I find you guilty, and my decision is that you will be hanged until you are dead. Take him away.’

Simon looked at Dolwyn. He barely appeared to care. There was something about him that was ineffably sad. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly another voice intervened.

‘WAIT!’

Simon winced at the bellow from his side.

Lord Berkeley and his steward peered round.

‘Who said that?’ the steward demanded.

‘I did,’ declared the smiling Sir Richard de Welles. ‘You can’t do that.’

Lord Berkeley raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? You think a lord cannot decide his own judgements in his own court?’

‘Oh, that’s all right, me lord. No trouble at all,’ Sir Richard said with a genial smile. He pushed three men from before him and stepped over to Dolwyn’s side. ‘But you cannot send him to hang.’

‘And why not?’

‘You know the law, me lord. It’s illegal for you to execute any man without the approval of your local coroner. He has to be there to witness the execution and make sure all is in order.’

‘Oh, and you claim that privilege?’

‘No, I am not coroner here. You have to ask your local fellow to come. Who is he?’

Lord Berkeley looked at his steward, then at Sir John Maltravers. ‘Well?’

Neither knew the name of the man responsible for the area.

‘In that case, me lord, I am afraid you may not have this man’s head,’ said Sir Richard apologetically. ‘I’m very sorry. Be a good thing, removing an arse like this, especially since he’s a known killer. But against the law.’