King's Gold

‘I didn’t. It was the dog. The fool kept up his barking, and I wondered why, and then suddenly Ham was there. He walked in, said he wanted food and told me about the attack about how he’d not been paid – again - and that he might be chased. So he said he’d best disappear for a few days. And then he went. And I was in the house, looking round at the little things we had, the goose feather for cleaning, the bed rolls . . . so very little. I couldn’t bear it. Got in a red-hot rage. So I followed him. Just walked out and went up after him. When I got there, he was already asleep. So I took his hatchet from beneath the cart’s seat, and I hit him until he was still.’

She stood with an expression of confusion and dismay as she spoke, as though recounting a dream.

‘Kneel with me,’ Father Luke begged.

‘And the trouble was, Jen realised at once,’ Agatha said dully, not seeming to hear him. ‘When she saw the axe in his head the next day, she knew it was me. She’d been awake when Ham came home, and she heard me go after him. So she guessed what had happened. She won’t talk to me now. She is too scared. She thinks I’ll kill her. Perhaps I will.’

She glanced at Luke, and he gasped to see the torment in her eyes. He should have seen it before!

Without saying another word, Agatha strode from the church.

Luke murmured ‘Oh!’ but it was more a sob than an exclamation. He clambered to his feet and hurried after her. She must have gone to her house. He picked up the front of his robe and ran, hammering on her door. There was no answer, and he beat once again, and this time he heard a rattling crash, then a staccato tapping. He sobbed aloud. Then, bellowing and roaring for help, he tried to prise the door open with his bare hands, but there was nothing he could do. When some villagers finally arrived, it took a hefty beam to force the door wide where she had slipped the bar across it.

She was long dead by then. The leather thong about her throat was tied to a beam, and when she kicked away the stool on which she had stood, her feet had just reached the ground to make the tapping noise.

Luke helped them cut her down, and then gave her the viaticum while his tears fell unceasingly over her bulging face.

Monday after Ascension Day

Berkeley Castle

Simon was walking about the walls and peering at the works when he saw the lone figure marching towards the castle. He was sure that he recognised the man . . . and soon realised it was Father Luke, the priest who had left only a few days ago.

Walking down the stairs, he passed John, who was chatting to a labourer while leaning against the tower’s wall. Both fell silent as he darted past, but he paid them no heed. Only later did he recall that incident and think to himself that he should have paid more attention to it.

‘Father!’ he called as he reached the courtyard. The priest was at the doors, halted by a pair of guards, and Simon had to convince them that the man was not a threat.

‘I had to come,’ Father Luke declared on seeing him. ‘I hope I am not too late.’

‘For what?’ Simon asked.

‘Dolwyn did not kill the poor fellow Ham from my vill. He is completely innocent. I have learned that it was his wife who murdered him.’

Before long they were sitting at a bench in the hall, Baldwin and Sir Richard with them, a large jug of wine on a table with mazers. Sir Richard had seen that the priest was exhausted, and had called for a large platter of meats to refresh him, but Father Luke eyed the enormous collation with dismay as he spoke.

‘It was not your fellow who killed Ham. I realised only a few days ago while with Ham’s daughter that she was petrified of her mother. It appears that Ham went to his house on the night he died. He had been a part of the abortive attack on Kenilworth Castle, and feared that he might be followed home, so dared not stay there. Something must have been said between them, I think, for when he returned to his cart outside the vill, his wife followed him. She it was who beat him to death.’

‘With an axe,’ Baldwin murmured.

‘Yes. She took it from the cart, apparently. So presumably your man’s story is true. He came across the cart later, and the horse, and saw nobody about there to rob. So he took what was wandering loose. He should of course have come to the vill and declared his discovery, but he did not steal it. I believe Agatha left it there, hoping to collect it the following day. It was a shock to her to learn that it had gone.’

‘Dolwyn is still being held because of the murder of Sir Jevan,’ Baldwin said. He looked over at Sir Richard and Simon. ‘We have perhaps been too busy with other matters to trouble ourselves about him. Now we should review the matter.’

‘Do you wish me to release the men now?’ Edgar asked.