Figure of Hate Read online

  'Some time ago, I had informed the coroner here of certain allegations made by Lady Avelina - who incidentally is soon to follow me to France, as she has consented to become my wife.'

  There were murmurs of congratulation from around the table, but they were short, as the audience was impatient to hear his story.

  'Lady Avelina was convinced that Hugo Peverel had somehow brought about the death of her husband William,' interjected de Wolfe. 'And Sir Reginald here had the support of his own eyes, as he had seen how the saddle-girth of William's horse had been tampered with.'

  The stately Frenchman nodded and took a sip of the Bush's best Wine.

  'Later, she told me of further scandalous happenings at Sampford. Coming down the stairs from her solar one day, she heard her name mentioned in the hall, in which only Hugo and Ralph Peverel were present. She stopped behind the arch leading into the hall and heard them discussing the provisions of her husband's will, which gave her a life interest in a third of the manor. They suggested that it would be very beneficial for them if that life interest was very short, and Hugo said he knew a way in which this might be brought about. Someone came into the hall then and she learned no more, but she was so anxious about the threat that she sent me a message and I came to give her support, for by then I had formed a strong affection for her.'

  'So that swine Ralph had knowledge of Hugo's plan to get rid of the lady,' said Henry indignantly, 'I always said he was evil, John!'

  'Thank God that Robert Longus refused - though he has other crimes enough to answer for,' observed Morin.

  De Charterai traced circles on the boards of the table with his cup,

  'When I heard of the arrest of the two armourers and then the results of their confessions, which are now common knowledge about the county, I realised that Avelina might still not be safe in Sampford, especially if Ralph won his case to become lord of that manor.'

  He stared defiantly at the faces around the table. 'Originally, they desired to extinguish her life interest. That man might still have extinguished her life!' he said firmly. 'I could not take that risk, and that is why I have hurried ahead with the marriage to take her to a place of safety.'

  'But what about Wilton?' asked the sheriff.

  'I knew Ralph would be there, as he never misses a major tourney - he desperately needs the winnings. But I had no idea that Sir John would also be there, with almost the same purpose as my own.'

  'I didn't go there to kill him,' grunted de Wolfe. 'I just needed to vanquish him, to even up the score for the sake of my self-respect.'

  'Neither did I intend his death,' declared Reginald, 'Though it had passed through my mind more than once. I wished to injure either his body or his pride by soundly defeating him. Then, when he was under my heel or my sword, I would tell him that I knew of his plotting with Hugo and if he as much as looked askance at Avelina before she left, I would cut him into small pieces and feed him to the crows!'

  He sighed and drained the rest of his wine. 'But as God willed it, the matter was settled more permanently, and I would be a liar if I said that I will lose any sleep over his demise.'

  There was silence, eventually broken by Henry de Fumellis. .

  'So Brother Odo will become lord of Sampford Peverel after all, fits or no fits, for I can't see that foppish Joel running the manor.'

  'Then I wish him well of it,' growled de Wolfe. 'That sad place needs all the help it can get.'

  'Amen!' intoned Thomas, crossing himself, as he was thinking only of his blessed visit to Winchester in three weeks' time.

  A week before his clerk's departure, Sir John de Wolfe rode alone to Topsham. Two days earlier, a messenger had come from a shipowner friend to say that their cog, the St Peter and Paul, was due in the estuary on Tuesday. A faster vessel had just arrived with the news, having passed the Peter at sea, both having come from Barfleur. There was no guarantee that Matilda would be on it, but as the season for crossing the wide end of the Channel was almost over, there would be few more chances of a passage before the winter gales set in.

  John sat in a tavern all morning, having given a boy half a penny to go down the river bank for a mile and run back when he saw a ship approaching, His mood was mixed, as part of him was saddened by the end of his weeks of freedom, yet the house in Martin's Lane seemed even more bleak and empty without Matilda's dour presence, to which he had become accustomed, much as a penitent gets used to wearing a hair shirt.

  In the early afternoon, the lad came back breathlessly to report a sighting, and an hour later, when the tide was high enough, John was on the quay-side scanning the deck of the heavily laden vessel as she tied up to the sound of the sailors' hymn of thanks to the Virgin for a safe voyage.

  He soon saw Matilda's squat figure, bundled up in a huge cloak, haranguing Lucille and a seaman over her baggage. When the landing-plank was pushed out to the wharf, he went forward to meet her, his heart suddenly heavy when he saw her down turned mouth and surly expression.

  There was no embrace or kiss as they met. She looked around her and glared up at the grey sky, from which a fine rain was beginning to fall.

  'What a miserable country, after the fair fields of France!' were the first words she spoke, Then she fixed her husband with her gimlet eyes.

  'And what have you been up to, John, while I've been away?'

  The coroner sighed as he bent to pick up one of her bundles.

  'Nothing much, Matilda. Nothing much at all!'