Crowner's Justice
Jul. 27th, 2008 08:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismeninHello, my loves! Here is my new story. It is set in 1195, in the time of Richard The Lionheart (yeah) and Elijah is a newly appointer coroner, or crowner, and Dom is the Sheriff. I'm on part 14, already - it's running off with me!
I wonder if anyone would like to join in and suggest a name for it? I'm not saying I'll choose any of them, but I'm stuck, at the moment, for a good title. "Crowner" just sounds too blergh!
If you'd like to have a go, please do - or any banners or manips of their loveliness would be great!
Edit: anjelmati and I did it between us. Crowner's Justice, it's called. ;D
Elijah's costume here, is of the time he was in Jerusalem, with Richard. Dom's is not strictly accurate, but he did look daft in some of the outfits I'd collected. There ya go.
There is a glossary at the end, simply because to simplify it too much detracts from the story. All of the terms used here will be in it, or if you're puzzled, just mail moi! You'll learn a bit of history if you do read it, cos, apart from it being an Alternate Reality, it is historically accurate in nearly all its salient parts.
Intro: Dom n Lighe meet - and HATE each other! Yeah! Just as I like it!
Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladysunrope
DP so far:
Elijah de Woode, Coroner - Elijah Wood
Dominic of Mortain, Sheriff - Dom Monaghan
Andrew, Elijah's manservant - Andy Serkis
Will, Andy's brother, Head of Elijah's Household - Billy Boyd
Astin - Head steward - Sean Astin
Ben, Dom's clerk - Dan Radcliffe
Part One
Lord Elijah de Woode rode into the city on the destrier he rode beside King Richard, Coeur de Lion, at Outremer. He was accompanied by his steward, his body servant, two guards and two grooms, the rest of his household having been sent forward to prepare his new abode against his arrival.
He looked about him as he rode, and he was not impressed. The city seemed crowded and dirty, the wooden houses small, and crouched together as if frightened to be seen. He sniffed. Something would have to be done about all the filth lying ankle deep in the gutters - especially if it were found near his own house.
A small, naked child ran out into his path, and he reined his horse in with an iron hand, missing the child by inches. The slatternly mother looked up at him and smiled her thanks, and Elijah smiled back. He was always on easy terms with his fellow beings, and it would not do to arrive and set everyone's back up before he had started.
He did not throw the mother a coin, which had been his first impulse. He realised that, if he had to live in this noisome place, he could not be handing out coin to every poor person he met, for the whole city seemed filled with ragged people, and he knew, from past experience, he would have a queue of beggars outside his door, stretching half way down the street. He would find some other way to help them - he always did.
But he was no longer as rich as he had been. True, he was still far wealthier than nine out of ten of his fellow men, but he had subsidised Richard's Crusade to the tune of three thousand marks - a fabulous sum - and had only the three hundred pounds worth of coin resting in the small chest carried behind his steward's saddle, to last him until the rents from his estates were paid, in six weeks time. He thought he could manage.
In a world where most workmen earned twopence a day, and a night's lodging at a good inn, the night before, with dinner and ale for him and his six companions cost him seven pence, he was hardly going to run out of coin.
As they rode on, the streets grew wider and cleaner, the clothing of the residents, richer. One or two young mountebanks with the points of their new-fangled shoes so long they were tied to their knees, tittuped by, and women dressed in fur-trimmed wool, wearing fine linen cover-chiefs upon their heads, were seen talking outside the shop doors, smiling and greeting friends as they passed.
Another two minutes brought them to a quiet side street, and the steward reined in besides an imposing stone house, and alighted rather awkwardly, as he was not a slim man. "Here it is, my lord!" he said, unnecessarily, standing nearby to help his master from his horse.
As Elijah rested his feet on the ground it was seen he had a disability, for the steward brought him a stick, and Elijah took it with a smile, and limped into the house.
It was a wound he got defending Richard from the Saracen, and Richard, seeing the severity of it, and knowing that his dearest friend would have to return to England, entrusted him with a new office that he had instituted only months before - that of coroner - custos placitorum coronae, or 'guardian of the crown's pleas.'
The person holding the office of coroner, Richard had told him before he left Elijah's sick bed for another sortie against the Infidel, was charged with keeping local records of legal proceedings in which the crown had jurisdiction. He helped raise money for the crown by ensuring the property of executed criminals went into the king's treasury.
The coroner also investigated, the king had said earnestly, any suspicious deaths among the Normans, who as the ruling class wanted to be sure that their deaths were not taken lightly. In fact, as Elijah had discovered, when he received the necessary documents from the king's offices, nearly all criminal investigations were included in the coroner's responsibilities, including inquests, arson, and rape, but excepting the judgement of murder, which felons were sent on to be tried before the king's Justices in Eyre, the crown princes of the court, who had ultimate control over law in England.
He had not looked up at the house as he entered. He trusted his servants to carry out his orders to the letter, so he had no doubt that this house met his specifications. Glass windows would have been installed, as well as shutters in every room. There would be a large fireplace, with the chimney built against the wall, not in the centre of the hall, and warm fur rugs in front of any seat he was likely to occupy.
As he went into the hall, the fire was blazing in the enormous fireplace, and there were several chairs set about it, and a large, long table placed in front of it. He saw there were huge tapestries on the walls, which helped to catch any draught that managed to sneak past the paned windows, and thick animal skins were on the flagged stone floor.
He smiled as his head of household came to greet him. "Would you care to eat, my lord?" the man, Will, asked, his green eyes twinkling. "We have some good roast fowl, and some mutton, if you would care for it."
Elijah nodded, and shrugged off his cloak as his man, Andrew, came behind him to take it. He moved to the fire and let the man remove his riding boots, and replace them with soft leather slippers, whilst maids hurried in and laid the table.
In minutes his meal was ready for him, and Elijah thanked Will for preparing everything just as he liked it.
"It is well that I know just what pleases you, my lord. I would be a poor servant if I did not, after all these years."
Elijah sat with a sigh. His leg was paining him, and he would be grateful to get into a warm bed, and feel the wrapped stones leech some heat into his aching muscles.
"Thank you, Will. Andy, I will go to bed as soon as I have eaten." The man bowed and hurried up the stairs with his master's cloak and boots.
Elijah took his knife from its sheath at his waist, and cut some slices delicately from a large fowl, and placed them on the silver plate in front of him.
Will stood behind him, ready to pass him anything he desired, and thought to himself that his master must be one of the very few men in the city who ate his dinner off a silver platter. Elijah disliked eating from a trencher, complaining that the bread became soaked with juices, and dripped crumbs and gravy all over his clothing. Therefore, he had silver plates and bowls made, and any new person coming to dine, raised their eyebrows, at first, at such ostentation, and then promptly forgot it, because of the excellence of their host's cooks, and the friendly, unforced pleasure of his company.
Elijah had no need to ask if the stones were in his bed. As he ate, he saw serving maids climbing the stairs carrying them. They were covered in white wool, and set in baskets because of the heat, and he smiled. Everything was as it should be, and he reached out for the goblet of wine, and drank deep.
He ate the fowl and some mutton, and several roast root vegetables, and finished with a pudding of rice, apples, raisins, and milk, seasoned with ginger. In this household, no expense was spared to give the master the best of everything. It was said that some years his food bill exceeded twenty pounds.
Will handed him his stick as he rose from the table, and asked if he needed help to climb the stairs. When Elijah shook his head, Will came closer and confided in a low voice that a garderobe had been built in his bedroom, as he had requested, so there was no need to go outside to use the privy.
"Thank you, Will. You have thought of everything. I will go to bed now, for I admit my bones ache from the journey. Should anyone from the keep come to welcome me, ask them to return tomorrow. I am too tired to entertain, tonight. Oh, and save me another of those excellent fowls - I will have it, cold, for supper, if I wake later. If not, you eat it - it was uncommonly good! Perhaps Astin would like to share it!"
Elijah walked for a few steps, then turned and beckoned Will. "Better not share it with Astin," he smiled, "He'll eat it all. Give him a whole one of his own - if he hasn't had one already."
Will grinned at his master's assessment of his steward's hearty appetite, and watched as he slowly started to climb the stairs. His grin faded as he saw what an effort it was for the man - so young to be lamed - to ascend to his bed-chamber. Life sometimes was not fair.
The last serving maid was just placing a stone at the foot of the bed when Elijah entered the room, and he looked around it with approval. His body servant came to remove his clothing, and, when he had done so, Elijah sent him away to tend to the garments, refusing further help. "I have been able to put on my own bed-robe since I was four years old, Andy, even if I did used to get my head tangled in the sleeves."
The bed was high off the floor, but there was a wide, steady stool placed beside it, so Elijah clambered in, and settled amongst the warm, woollen bundles with a sigh of relief. With the weight off his injured leg, the pain began to lessen, and he felt the stiffness ease.
The room was large, and comfortably furnished, with chairs and chests, and two braziers for coals on cold winter nights. It was late spring, now, and there was no need for heat - the bed was warm enough.
Elijah's brow wrinkled when he saw, hanging on the wall opposite the bed, a huge crucifix, fearfully and wonderfully carved. He knew it was not his, so he called to Andrew, next door busily brushing and folding garments, to ask where it had come from.
The two men contemplated the carving, decorated in garish colours - especially the painted blood dripping liberally all over the wood, added by an enthusiastic, if not particularly artistic hand.
"Your esteemed aunt, the Abbess Gertruda sent it, my lord. No doubt she thought your soul would benefit from contemplating such a holy relic, in what she called - according to the servant who brought it - 'this den of iniquity'."
Elijah grinned at his servant. They had grown up together on the same estate in Kent, and Andrew had accompanied Elijah to the Holy Land, and tended him when he was wounded. He was allowed a freedom that few of the other servants enjoyed - except Will. Will was Andrew's brother, and in any case, Elijah liked both the men.
"I do not think I will get much sleep being forced to look at that monstrosity every night, Andy. Remove it to one of the other bed chambers, now, if you please. Place it on the wall opposite the bed, where I may tell my aunt, with perfect truthfulness, that it sits across from the bed in my room. All the rooms in this house are mine, after all. It will not be a lie."
Andrew unhooked the thing from the wall, and struggled with difficulty out of the room. Elijah heard him call for his brother, and despite the hammering and swearing accompanying the re-hanging, Elijah closed his eyes. He would sleep, he was sure, until morning, and then he would await the formal visit of welcome, from the Sheriff. He had not wanted this appointment. He had accepted it to help Richard, whom he loved, and it was better than sitting at home being fussed over by anxious relatives who still regarded him, even after three months at home, as an invalid. No, he would do better here.
*****
By noon the next day, Elijah de Woode had grown impatient. "Where is the damned man?" he growled at Astin, who shook his head, as puzzled over it as was his master.
"No message has come from the keep, my lord. That is all I know."
Elijah frowned. He was told the Sheriff had been informed of his coming. It was unmannerly in him not to grant him a visit of ceremony - after all, they had to work closely together. This was not starting things off on a good footing.
"Perhaps he has been delayed on a matter of business, my lord," Astin volunteered, watching Elijah's expression carefully. If their master was unhappy, all the house was unhappy, and no-one liked that state of affairs.
Elijah smiled. "Very true. How far is it to the keep?"
Will came forward. "Turn right outside the house, then, at the end of the street, turn left, my lord. You will see it from there. Five minutes walk, I'd guess."
"Bring me my cloak, then. I think even I can manage that short distance. Tell Andy to accompany me as soon as may be."
Andrew had been rubbing down Elijah's travelling cloak with fuller's earth to cleanse it, and he rushed in, his face still wet after a hasty wash, his clothes covered in dust, and apologised to his master for his tardiness.
Elijah laughed, and sat down, leaning on his stick. "Andy, you look like a dumpling, fresh-floured. Go back and wash properly, man, and brush your clothes. I can wait until you are ready."
Andrew did not waste time thanking his master for his consideration, but hurried off in the direction of the kitchens, built outside as they usually were, where he would find the pump and a basin. Within minutes he was back, cleansed and brushed, his unruly black curls plastered down with water.
Elijah's leg was much better after a good night's rest, and Andrew was glad to see his master did not limp so badly as he had on the previous day.
When they reached the end of the street and turned the corner, Elijah was glad to see the keep sitting on a slight prominence against the city wall. It was a large stone building, dark and forbidding, with a huge wooden door at the front, manned by two guards, who barred his way, asking what business he had within.
He had come prepared. He brought out the parchment embossed with Richard's Seal, and showed it to the men. He knew they probably could not read, but they knew the king's seal when they saw it, so allowed him in.
A captain came towards them as they entered. He was a pleasant, fair haired man, with an easy smile.
"I have come to see the Sheriff," Elijah began, but the man stopped him.
"I'll show you the way, sir. His office is easy to find, once you know. It will be simple for you to find it next time you wish to see him." Elijah followed the man, thinking crossly that it was just as much the Sheriff's business to come to him as it was for him to come here. In fact, Elijah was not pleased with him, even before he had met the man. It was unmannerly not to have welcomed him.
But he knew that many of the Sheriffs felt threatened by the new officials, and some rightly so. Some of the Sheriffs had abused their offices by siphoning off monies meant for the king's exchequer, for their own use, and this is why Richard had invented the office. It had not gone down well in some quarters - Elijah wondered as he climbed the stairs after the captain, if this Sheriff was one of the dissenters - a follower of Prince John, brother to Richard, and coveter of the crown.
He was led into an airy office high up on the castle wall, and Andrew, following behind, looked about him, anxiously, hoping there would be a seat for his master, after the climb.
There was not.
There was a large wooden desk, behind which sat a man probably in his late twenties, with long, blond hair tied back with a scrap of leather. He was dressed in brown boiled leather, and wore, around his neck, a gold chain, with an emblem of some sort suspended from it. He did not look up when Elijah entered, but continued to write on the parchment in front of him.
Elijah cleared his throat, impatiently. "Lord Elijah de Woode, Sheriff. I have been waiting in for you all morning," Elijah said, in a colder voice than he normally used. This man irritated him.
The pen suspended in mid air, and the writer looked up, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. "Waiting for me, my lord? Why should you do such a thing? Were you expecting me?"
The man's voice was light, but held a suspicion of the irritation that Elijah was feeling. Elijah saw the man was not handsome; his nose was a mere blob in his face, his jaw slightly crooked, his mouth severe. He had cool grey eyes, that looked upon Elijah with a slight expression of contempt which made Elijah itch to slap his face.
"I was, indeed, expecting you, Sheriff. I thought it common courtesy that the chief law-keeper in this city would welcome a fellow officer of the court, newly come to town. I see I was wrong."
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows, and examined the man standing before him. Slightly shorter than he, the man had dark wavy hair that would hang in ringlets down past his shoulders had they not been confined with a black silk ribbon. He was very pale, with handsome, even features, and the most penetrating blue eyes Dom had ever seen. He was a handsome piece, and no mistake.
The Sheriff rose, reluctantly, from his seat, as Elijah shifted his weight from his injured leg. It was then the Sheriff saw the stick.
"Ben!" he called in a loud voice towards the open door at the end of the room. "Bring a chair, will you, lad. The new coroner is here, and he is lame, and needs a seat."
Andrew noticed with anger that the Sheriff did not offer his master his own chair. Really, the man had no manners whatsoever. He saw his lord's lips compress into a thin line.
A young, dark haired man dressed in priest's robes hurried into the room with a stool. "I'm sorry Sheriff, there are no chairs in there," he said, in a low, breathy voice. "Shall I go downstairs and fetch one?" The lad glanced at Elijah, uncertain as to what he should do
Elijah smiled at the young lad. It may have been a forced smile, but it was not the boy's fault his master was a boor.
"I thank you for your concern," Elijah said to the lad, ignoring the Sheriff, "but there is no need for you to trouble yourself." The young man bowed, and scuttled back into the next room as swiftly as he had arrived.
Elijah fixed his gaze upon the Sheriff, who was now sitting on the edge of his desk, contemplating Elijah with as much interest as Elijah was showing in him.
"Do you think," Elijah said, into the silence, "that you could furnish me with your name? I know your title, if not your condition in life."
The Sheriff pressed his lips together, then stood and bowed very slightly. "Sir Dominic de Mortain, at your service, lord Crowner."
Elijah's eyes widened. "Mortain, you say. Is that not one of Prince John's countys?" He looked carefully at his companion, anxious to see if any hint of allegiances other than those to Richard were visible in his face. But there were none. Mortain's face was closed, and cold.
"It is indeed, my lord. I am happy to say that my family is no longer resident at Mortain, although we have kept the name. Perhaps we should alter it, for I see it disturbs you."
Dominic moved over to a table under the window where there was a jug and some cups without waiting for a reply. "May I pour you some wine?"
Elijah lifted his chin. "No, I thank you. I am not staying. I merely called in as a courtesy to inform you that I was now resident in my house in Chapel Street, and that any communication or message concerning my office should be addressed to me there. If you will excuse me, I have other important business to conduct this morning."
Elijah sketched the briefest of bows in Dominic's direction, and left the room without another word.
Dominic of Mortain sipped his wine and stared out of the door, watching the space where his visitor had stood. Ben came back into the room carrying a pile of parchments, and an inkhorn. "Time for the reports, sir. Will you look them, now?"
Dominic sighed and returned to his seat. "I do not think I began my relationship with the little crowner on the right foot, Ben. I displeased him, mightily, I fear. He was right. I should have gone to him."
Ben stared at his master. "But where is he lodged, Sheriff? We have had no notification of his coming, have we?"
Dominic sighed. "None that I know of, but he seems to think we should have done. Perhaps he does not know of the unrest in the east. It may be John's brigands have waylaid the king's messenger. If he came up from the west, he will have missed the disturbances."
Ben dragged the stool around to Dominic's chair, but before he had time to sit, Dominic spoke.
"Before we start, run and tell the Constable and the Captain of the Guard where the new Coroner is lodged. At Chapel Street, he said. Must be the large house next to the cloth guild's hall. It's the only empty one there. If any bodies are found, it is now his business to investigate them, not ours. At least the letters informing us of the duties of the new crown officers did not go astray. I wish him joy of them."
Ben ran out of the office, and Dom smiled. He wondered if his little clerk ever walked anywhere - he doubted it. He sat back in his chair, for a moment, his papers forgotten, and wondered why it was that he had behaved so badly towards his lordship when he first appeared in his office. It would have taken no effort to be polite to the man, a stranger, newly arrived in town, after all. And he was lame, and he had left him to stand. What had got into him? It was not like him to behave so...churlishly. Now they would have to work together with some constraint between them.
Damn me for a fool! Dom said, annoyed with himself, and, what was more, extremely annoyed with Elijah de Woode.
GLOSSARY
Coins/Money:
Two silver pence a day was a good wage, in 1195. For an example of the income of more wealthy men, a coroner had to be an honest, upright, well-born man, above corruption and bribery, of substantial wealth, with an income of at least £20 a year. :D
Elijah had five or six hundred pounds a year, sometimes more, which made him extremely rich, indeed, at a time when a man and his entire household, including servants and animals, could live in absolute luxury for less than a pound a week. Dom had an income of two marks a month, and a small private income besides.
A mark was not a coin, only an amount, and was equal to the sum of thirteen shillings and fourpence. This was very good pay indeed (when he got it - see story!)
A pound was only an amount, too. There were no pound coins, or mark coins, only pennies or shillings, a little later. Pennies, which were made of silver, could be cut in halves or quarters. A half-penny (ha'penny) was literally, at one time, a coin cut in half.
Only wealthy merchants, bishops or Elijah were rich enough to have dealt in gold bezants, a coin from the Byzantine empire, used in Europe at this time. A bezant was equal to two shillings sterling, and a shilling was equal to twelve pennies, or the value of a cow in Kent, or a sheep elsewhere. :D
Constable:
A peace officer with less authority, and smaller jurisdiction than a sheriff, empowered to serve writs and warrants, and make arrests. Sometimes the castellan of a keep was called a constable. He held a far greater level of responsibility than modern-day constables in Britain.
Coroner/Crowner:
Coroner comes from Anglo-Norman corouner, a word derived from coroune, "crown." Corouner was the term used for the royal judicial officer, who was called, in Latin, custos placitorum coronae, or "guardian of the crown's pleas."
The person holding the office of coroner, a position dating from the 12th century, was charged with keeping local records of legal proceedings in which the crown had jurisdiction. He helped raise money for the crown, by funneling the property of executed criminals into the king's treasury.
The coroner also investigated any suspicious deaths among the Normans, who as the ruling class, wanted to be sure that their deaths were not taken lightly. At one time in England, most criminal proceedings, including rape and arson, and including attending as a witness, any hangings or other execution of criminals, also fell within the coroner's duty.
Secondary:
A young man hoping later to become a priest. Under twenty four years of age, they helped the clergy in the cathedral. Ben was a secondary before he became Dom's clerk.
Sheriff:
Late O.E. scirgerefa "representative of royal authority in a shire," from scir + gerefa "chief, official, reeve". In Anglo-Saxon England, he was the representative of royal authority in a shire.
The coroners, appointed by Richard the Lionheart, to stop dishonest sheriffs stealing monies from executed criminals, and amercements, and money raised from the sale of deodand articles, (see later lists!), intended for the king's coffers - to fund the cripplingly expensive Crusades - or for the poor, took over many of the sheriff's duties. Not all, needless to say, were pleased by this turn of events.
I wonder if anyone would like to join in and suggest a name for it? I'm not saying I'll choose any of them, but I'm stuck, at the moment, for a good title. "Crowner" just sounds too blergh!
If you'd like to have a go, please do - or any banners or manips of their loveliness would be great!
Edit: anjelmati and I did it between us. Crowner's Justice, it's called. ;D
Elijah's costume here, is of the time he was in Jerusalem, with Richard. Dom's is not strictly accurate, but he did look daft in some of the outfits I'd collected. There ya go.
There is a glossary at the end, simply because to simplify it too much detracts from the story. All of the terms used here will be in it, or if you're puzzled, just mail moi! You'll learn a bit of history if you do read it, cos, apart from it being an Alternate Reality, it is historically accurate in nearly all its salient parts.
Intro: Dom n Lighe meet - and HATE each other! Yeah! Just as I like it!
Thank you to
ladysunropeDP so far:
Elijah de Woode, Coroner - Elijah Wood
Dominic of Mortain, Sheriff - Dom Monaghan
Andrew, Elijah's manservant - Andy Serkis
Will, Andy's brother, Head of Elijah's Household - Billy Boyd
Astin - Head steward - Sean Astin
Ben, Dom's clerk - Dan Radcliffe
Part One
Lord Elijah de Woode rode into the city on the destrier he rode beside King Richard, Coeur de Lion, at Outremer. He was accompanied by his steward, his body servant, two guards and two grooms, the rest of his household having been sent forward to prepare his new abode against his arrival.
He looked about him as he rode, and he was not impressed. The city seemed crowded and dirty, the wooden houses small, and crouched together as if frightened to be seen. He sniffed. Something would have to be done about all the filth lying ankle deep in the gutters - especially if it were found near his own house.
A small, naked child ran out into his path, and he reined his horse in with an iron hand, missing the child by inches. The slatternly mother looked up at him and smiled her thanks, and Elijah smiled back. He was always on easy terms with his fellow beings, and it would not do to arrive and set everyone's back up before he had started.
He did not throw the mother a coin, which had been his first impulse. He realised that, if he had to live in this noisome place, he could not be handing out coin to every poor person he met, for the whole city seemed filled with ragged people, and he knew, from past experience, he would have a queue of beggars outside his door, stretching half way down the street. He would find some other way to help them - he always did.
But he was no longer as rich as he had been. True, he was still far wealthier than nine out of ten of his fellow men, but he had subsidised Richard's Crusade to the tune of three thousand marks - a fabulous sum - and had only the three hundred pounds worth of coin resting in the small chest carried behind his steward's saddle, to last him until the rents from his estates were paid, in six weeks time. He thought he could manage.
In a world where most workmen earned twopence a day, and a night's lodging at a good inn, the night before, with dinner and ale for him and his six companions cost him seven pence, he was hardly going to run out of coin.
As they rode on, the streets grew wider and cleaner, the clothing of the residents, richer. One or two young mountebanks with the points of their new-fangled shoes so long they were tied to their knees, tittuped by, and women dressed in fur-trimmed wool, wearing fine linen cover-chiefs upon their heads, were seen talking outside the shop doors, smiling and greeting friends as they passed.
Another two minutes brought them to a quiet side street, and the steward reined in besides an imposing stone house, and alighted rather awkwardly, as he was not a slim man. "Here it is, my lord!" he said, unnecessarily, standing nearby to help his master from his horse.
As Elijah rested his feet on the ground it was seen he had a disability, for the steward brought him a stick, and Elijah took it with a smile, and limped into the house.
It was a wound he got defending Richard from the Saracen, and Richard, seeing the severity of it, and knowing that his dearest friend would have to return to England, entrusted him with a new office that he had instituted only months before - that of coroner - custos placitorum coronae, or 'guardian of the crown's pleas.'
The person holding the office of coroner, Richard had told him before he left Elijah's sick bed for another sortie against the Infidel, was charged with keeping local records of legal proceedings in which the crown had jurisdiction. He helped raise money for the crown by ensuring the property of executed criminals went into the king's treasury.
The coroner also investigated, the king had said earnestly, any suspicious deaths among the Normans, who as the ruling class wanted to be sure that their deaths were not taken lightly. In fact, as Elijah had discovered, when he received the necessary documents from the king's offices, nearly all criminal investigations were included in the coroner's responsibilities, including inquests, arson, and rape, but excepting the judgement of murder, which felons were sent on to be tried before the king's Justices in Eyre, the crown princes of the court, who had ultimate control over law in England.
He had not looked up at the house as he entered. He trusted his servants to carry out his orders to the letter, so he had no doubt that this house met his specifications. Glass windows would have been installed, as well as shutters in every room. There would be a large fireplace, with the chimney built against the wall, not in the centre of the hall, and warm fur rugs in front of any seat he was likely to occupy.
As he went into the hall, the fire was blazing in the enormous fireplace, and there were several chairs set about it, and a large, long table placed in front of it. He saw there were huge tapestries on the walls, which helped to catch any draught that managed to sneak past the paned windows, and thick animal skins were on the flagged stone floor.
He smiled as his head of household came to greet him. "Would you care to eat, my lord?" the man, Will, asked, his green eyes twinkling. "We have some good roast fowl, and some mutton, if you would care for it."
Elijah nodded, and shrugged off his cloak as his man, Andrew, came behind him to take it. He moved to the fire and let the man remove his riding boots, and replace them with soft leather slippers, whilst maids hurried in and laid the table.
In minutes his meal was ready for him, and Elijah thanked Will for preparing everything just as he liked it.
"It is well that I know just what pleases you, my lord. I would be a poor servant if I did not, after all these years."
Elijah sat with a sigh. His leg was paining him, and he would be grateful to get into a warm bed, and feel the wrapped stones leech some heat into his aching muscles.
"Thank you, Will. Andy, I will go to bed as soon as I have eaten." The man bowed and hurried up the stairs with his master's cloak and boots.
Elijah took his knife from its sheath at his waist, and cut some slices delicately from a large fowl, and placed them on the silver plate in front of him.
Will stood behind him, ready to pass him anything he desired, and thought to himself that his master must be one of the very few men in the city who ate his dinner off a silver platter. Elijah disliked eating from a trencher, complaining that the bread became soaked with juices, and dripped crumbs and gravy all over his clothing. Therefore, he had silver plates and bowls made, and any new person coming to dine, raised their eyebrows, at first, at such ostentation, and then promptly forgot it, because of the excellence of their host's cooks, and the friendly, unforced pleasure of his company.
Elijah had no need to ask if the stones were in his bed. As he ate, he saw serving maids climbing the stairs carrying them. They were covered in white wool, and set in baskets because of the heat, and he smiled. Everything was as it should be, and he reached out for the goblet of wine, and drank deep.
He ate the fowl and some mutton, and several roast root vegetables, and finished with a pudding of rice, apples, raisins, and milk, seasoned with ginger. In this household, no expense was spared to give the master the best of everything. It was said that some years his food bill exceeded twenty pounds.
Will handed him his stick as he rose from the table, and asked if he needed help to climb the stairs. When Elijah shook his head, Will came closer and confided in a low voice that a garderobe had been built in his bedroom, as he had requested, so there was no need to go outside to use the privy.
"Thank you, Will. You have thought of everything. I will go to bed now, for I admit my bones ache from the journey. Should anyone from the keep come to welcome me, ask them to return tomorrow. I am too tired to entertain, tonight. Oh, and save me another of those excellent fowls - I will have it, cold, for supper, if I wake later. If not, you eat it - it was uncommonly good! Perhaps Astin would like to share it!"
Elijah walked for a few steps, then turned and beckoned Will. "Better not share it with Astin," he smiled, "He'll eat it all. Give him a whole one of his own - if he hasn't had one already."
Will grinned at his master's assessment of his steward's hearty appetite, and watched as he slowly started to climb the stairs. His grin faded as he saw what an effort it was for the man - so young to be lamed - to ascend to his bed-chamber. Life sometimes was not fair.
The last serving maid was just placing a stone at the foot of the bed when Elijah entered the room, and he looked around it with approval. His body servant came to remove his clothing, and, when he had done so, Elijah sent him away to tend to the garments, refusing further help. "I have been able to put on my own bed-robe since I was four years old, Andy, even if I did used to get my head tangled in the sleeves."
The bed was high off the floor, but there was a wide, steady stool placed beside it, so Elijah clambered in, and settled amongst the warm, woollen bundles with a sigh of relief. With the weight off his injured leg, the pain began to lessen, and he felt the stiffness ease.
The room was large, and comfortably furnished, with chairs and chests, and two braziers for coals on cold winter nights. It was late spring, now, and there was no need for heat - the bed was warm enough.
Elijah's brow wrinkled when he saw, hanging on the wall opposite the bed, a huge crucifix, fearfully and wonderfully carved. He knew it was not his, so he called to Andrew, next door busily brushing and folding garments, to ask where it had come from.
The two men contemplated the carving, decorated in garish colours - especially the painted blood dripping liberally all over the wood, added by an enthusiastic, if not particularly artistic hand.
"Your esteemed aunt, the Abbess Gertruda sent it, my lord. No doubt she thought your soul would benefit from contemplating such a holy relic, in what she called - according to the servant who brought it - 'this den of iniquity'."
Elijah grinned at his servant. They had grown up together on the same estate in Kent, and Andrew had accompanied Elijah to the Holy Land, and tended him when he was wounded. He was allowed a freedom that few of the other servants enjoyed - except Will. Will was Andrew's brother, and in any case, Elijah liked both the men.
"I do not think I will get much sleep being forced to look at that monstrosity every night, Andy. Remove it to one of the other bed chambers, now, if you please. Place it on the wall opposite the bed, where I may tell my aunt, with perfect truthfulness, that it sits across from the bed in my room. All the rooms in this house are mine, after all. It will not be a lie."
Andrew unhooked the thing from the wall, and struggled with difficulty out of the room. Elijah heard him call for his brother, and despite the hammering and swearing accompanying the re-hanging, Elijah closed his eyes. He would sleep, he was sure, until morning, and then he would await the formal visit of welcome, from the Sheriff. He had not wanted this appointment. He had accepted it to help Richard, whom he loved, and it was better than sitting at home being fussed over by anxious relatives who still regarded him, even after three months at home, as an invalid. No, he would do better here.
*****
By noon the next day, Elijah de Woode had grown impatient. "Where is the damned man?" he growled at Astin, who shook his head, as puzzled over it as was his master.
"No message has come from the keep, my lord. That is all I know."
Elijah frowned. He was told the Sheriff had been informed of his coming. It was unmannerly in him not to grant him a visit of ceremony - after all, they had to work closely together. This was not starting things off on a good footing.
"Perhaps he has been delayed on a matter of business, my lord," Astin volunteered, watching Elijah's expression carefully. If their master was unhappy, all the house was unhappy, and no-one liked that state of affairs.
Elijah smiled. "Very true. How far is it to the keep?"
Will came forward. "Turn right outside the house, then, at the end of the street, turn left, my lord. You will see it from there. Five minutes walk, I'd guess."
"Bring me my cloak, then. I think even I can manage that short distance. Tell Andy to accompany me as soon as may be."
Andrew had been rubbing down Elijah's travelling cloak with fuller's earth to cleanse it, and he rushed in, his face still wet after a hasty wash, his clothes covered in dust, and apologised to his master for his tardiness.
Elijah laughed, and sat down, leaning on his stick. "Andy, you look like a dumpling, fresh-floured. Go back and wash properly, man, and brush your clothes. I can wait until you are ready."
Andrew did not waste time thanking his master for his consideration, but hurried off in the direction of the kitchens, built outside as they usually were, where he would find the pump and a basin. Within minutes he was back, cleansed and brushed, his unruly black curls plastered down with water.
Elijah's leg was much better after a good night's rest, and Andrew was glad to see his master did not limp so badly as he had on the previous day.
When they reached the end of the street and turned the corner, Elijah was glad to see the keep sitting on a slight prominence against the city wall. It was a large stone building, dark and forbidding, with a huge wooden door at the front, manned by two guards, who barred his way, asking what business he had within.
He had come prepared. He brought out the parchment embossed with Richard's Seal, and showed it to the men. He knew they probably could not read, but they knew the king's seal when they saw it, so allowed him in.
A captain came towards them as they entered. He was a pleasant, fair haired man, with an easy smile.
"I have come to see the Sheriff," Elijah began, but the man stopped him.
"I'll show you the way, sir. His office is easy to find, once you know. It will be simple for you to find it next time you wish to see him." Elijah followed the man, thinking crossly that it was just as much the Sheriff's business to come to him as it was for him to come here. In fact, Elijah was not pleased with him, even before he had met the man. It was unmannerly not to have welcomed him.
But he knew that many of the Sheriffs felt threatened by the new officials, and some rightly so. Some of the Sheriffs had abused their offices by siphoning off monies meant for the king's exchequer, for their own use, and this is why Richard had invented the office. It had not gone down well in some quarters - Elijah wondered as he climbed the stairs after the captain, if this Sheriff was one of the dissenters - a follower of Prince John, brother to Richard, and coveter of the crown.
He was led into an airy office high up on the castle wall, and Andrew, following behind, looked about him, anxiously, hoping there would be a seat for his master, after the climb.
There was not.
There was a large wooden desk, behind which sat a man probably in his late twenties, with long, blond hair tied back with a scrap of leather. He was dressed in brown boiled leather, and wore, around his neck, a gold chain, with an emblem of some sort suspended from it. He did not look up when Elijah entered, but continued to write on the parchment in front of him.
Elijah cleared his throat, impatiently. "Lord Elijah de Woode, Sheriff. I have been waiting in for you all morning," Elijah said, in a colder voice than he normally used. This man irritated him.
The pen suspended in mid air, and the writer looked up, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. "Waiting for me, my lord? Why should you do such a thing? Were you expecting me?"
The man's voice was light, but held a suspicion of the irritation that Elijah was feeling. Elijah saw the man was not handsome; his nose was a mere blob in his face, his jaw slightly crooked, his mouth severe. He had cool grey eyes, that looked upon Elijah with a slight expression of contempt which made Elijah itch to slap his face.
"I was, indeed, expecting you, Sheriff. I thought it common courtesy that the chief law-keeper in this city would welcome a fellow officer of the court, newly come to town. I see I was wrong."
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows, and examined the man standing before him. Slightly shorter than he, the man had dark wavy hair that would hang in ringlets down past his shoulders had they not been confined with a black silk ribbon. He was very pale, with handsome, even features, and the most penetrating blue eyes Dom had ever seen. He was a handsome piece, and no mistake.
The Sheriff rose, reluctantly, from his seat, as Elijah shifted his weight from his injured leg. It was then the Sheriff saw the stick.
"Ben!" he called in a loud voice towards the open door at the end of the room. "Bring a chair, will you, lad. The new coroner is here, and he is lame, and needs a seat."
Andrew noticed with anger that the Sheriff did not offer his master his own chair. Really, the man had no manners whatsoever. He saw his lord's lips compress into a thin line.
A young, dark haired man dressed in priest's robes hurried into the room with a stool. "I'm sorry Sheriff, there are no chairs in there," he said, in a low, breathy voice. "Shall I go downstairs and fetch one?" The lad glanced at Elijah, uncertain as to what he should do
Elijah smiled at the young lad. It may have been a forced smile, but it was not the boy's fault his master was a boor.
"I thank you for your concern," Elijah said to the lad, ignoring the Sheriff, "but there is no need for you to trouble yourself." The young man bowed, and scuttled back into the next room as swiftly as he had arrived.
Elijah fixed his gaze upon the Sheriff, who was now sitting on the edge of his desk, contemplating Elijah with as much interest as Elijah was showing in him.
"Do you think," Elijah said, into the silence, "that you could furnish me with your name? I know your title, if not your condition in life."
The Sheriff pressed his lips together, then stood and bowed very slightly. "Sir Dominic de Mortain, at your service, lord Crowner."
Elijah's eyes widened. "Mortain, you say. Is that not one of Prince John's countys?" He looked carefully at his companion, anxious to see if any hint of allegiances other than those to Richard were visible in his face. But there were none. Mortain's face was closed, and cold.
"It is indeed, my lord. I am happy to say that my family is no longer resident at Mortain, although we have kept the name. Perhaps we should alter it, for I see it disturbs you."
Dominic moved over to a table under the window where there was a jug and some cups without waiting for a reply. "May I pour you some wine?"
Elijah lifted his chin. "No, I thank you. I am not staying. I merely called in as a courtesy to inform you that I was now resident in my house in Chapel Street, and that any communication or message concerning my office should be addressed to me there. If you will excuse me, I have other important business to conduct this morning."
Elijah sketched the briefest of bows in Dominic's direction, and left the room without another word.
Dominic of Mortain sipped his wine and stared out of the door, watching the space where his visitor had stood. Ben came back into the room carrying a pile of parchments, and an inkhorn. "Time for the reports, sir. Will you look them, now?"
Dominic sighed and returned to his seat. "I do not think I began my relationship with the little crowner on the right foot, Ben. I displeased him, mightily, I fear. He was right. I should have gone to him."
Ben stared at his master. "But where is he lodged, Sheriff? We have had no notification of his coming, have we?"
Dominic sighed. "None that I know of, but he seems to think we should have done. Perhaps he does not know of the unrest in the east. It may be John's brigands have waylaid the king's messenger. If he came up from the west, he will have missed the disturbances."
Ben dragged the stool around to Dominic's chair, but before he had time to sit, Dominic spoke.
"Before we start, run and tell the Constable and the Captain of the Guard where the new Coroner is lodged. At Chapel Street, he said. Must be the large house next to the cloth guild's hall. It's the only empty one there. If any bodies are found, it is now his business to investigate them, not ours. At least the letters informing us of the duties of the new crown officers did not go astray. I wish him joy of them."
Ben ran out of the office, and Dom smiled. He wondered if his little clerk ever walked anywhere - he doubted it. He sat back in his chair, for a moment, his papers forgotten, and wondered why it was that he had behaved so badly towards his lordship when he first appeared in his office. It would have taken no effort to be polite to the man, a stranger, newly arrived in town, after all. And he was lame, and he had left him to stand. What had got into him? It was not like him to behave so...churlishly. Now they would have to work together with some constraint between them.
Damn me for a fool! Dom said, annoyed with himself, and, what was more, extremely annoyed with Elijah de Woode.
GLOSSARY
Coins/Money:
Two silver pence a day was a good wage, in 1195. For an example of the income of more wealthy men, a coroner had to be an honest, upright, well-born man, above corruption and bribery, of substantial wealth, with an income of at least £20 a year. :D
Elijah had five or six hundred pounds a year, sometimes more, which made him extremely rich, indeed, at a time when a man and his entire household, including servants and animals, could live in absolute luxury for less than a pound a week. Dom had an income of two marks a month, and a small private income besides.
A mark was not a coin, only an amount, and was equal to the sum of thirteen shillings and fourpence. This was very good pay indeed (when he got it - see story!)
A pound was only an amount, too. There were no pound coins, or mark coins, only pennies or shillings, a little later. Pennies, which were made of silver, could be cut in halves or quarters. A half-penny (ha'penny) was literally, at one time, a coin cut in half.
Only wealthy merchants, bishops or Elijah were rich enough to have dealt in gold bezants, a coin from the Byzantine empire, used in Europe at this time. A bezant was equal to two shillings sterling, and a shilling was equal to twelve pennies, or the value of a cow in Kent, or a sheep elsewhere. :D
Constable:
A peace officer with less authority, and smaller jurisdiction than a sheriff, empowered to serve writs and warrants, and make arrests. Sometimes the castellan of a keep was called a constable. He held a far greater level of responsibility than modern-day constables in Britain.
Coroner/Crowner:
Coroner comes from Anglo-Norman corouner, a word derived from coroune, "crown." Corouner was the term used for the royal judicial officer, who was called, in Latin, custos placitorum coronae, or "guardian of the crown's pleas."
The person holding the office of coroner, a position dating from the 12th century, was charged with keeping local records of legal proceedings in which the crown had jurisdiction. He helped raise money for the crown, by funneling the property of executed criminals into the king's treasury.
The coroner also investigated any suspicious deaths among the Normans, who as the ruling class, wanted to be sure that their deaths were not taken lightly. At one time in England, most criminal proceedings, including rape and arson, and including attending as a witness, any hangings or other execution of criminals, also fell within the coroner's duty.
Secondary:
A young man hoping later to become a priest. Under twenty four years of age, they helped the clergy in the cathedral. Ben was a secondary before he became Dom's clerk.
Sheriff:
Late O.E. scirgerefa "representative of royal authority in a shire," from scir + gerefa "chief, official, reeve". In Anglo-Saxon England, he was the representative of royal authority in a shire.
The coroners, appointed by Richard the Lionheart, to stop dishonest sheriffs stealing monies from executed criminals, and amercements, and money raised from the sale of deodand articles, (see later lists!), intended for the king's coffers - to fund the cripplingly expensive Crusades - or for the poor, took over many of the sheriff's duties. Not all, needless to say, were pleased by this turn of events.
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Date: 2008-07-27 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 11:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 12:36 pm (UTC)Title is tricky. Crown and Thorn? Lionhearts?
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Date: 2008-07-28 02:45 pm (UTC)Sheesh! I'm on part 15, for goodness sake, and still no title! :D xxx
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Date: 2008-07-27 02:19 pm (UTC)Heh, rich, self assured Elijah, close to Richard the Lionheart- I like that!
In so many AU's (even in those I love) our beloved man is poor, sad... in need of help- just an underdog, but this, oh yes, is sooo promising!!
*cheerful hugs*
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Date: 2008-07-28 02:47 pm (UTC)I hope you will like this one, I do - lots! Hugs back. ;D xxx
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Date: 2008-07-27 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:49 pm (UTC)Hope you enjoy! :) xxx
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Date: 2008-07-27 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 05:36 pm (UTC)Me too.. :)
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Date: 2008-07-27 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 01:19 pm (UTC)So,Crowner's Quest already used.
From Revelations chapter 2,verse 10,we have (A) Crown of Life,from Be thou faithful unto death,and I will give thee a crown of life.Any good?
Failing that,Just One Coroner-etto??? (Brain getting the giggles,sorry.)
Excellent start to the new story.Thank you.
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Date: 2008-07-28 02:42 pm (UTC)I like Jecks, too, and Alys Clare and Peter Tremayne, and Paul Doherty, and indeed all who write in this genre. I must admit to being influenced by them as much as LOTR writers are by Tolkien.
I am fortunate this series is writing itself, because I know I can't be accused of plagiarism! :D
Thank you so much for the suggestions, one, at least of which, made me laugh out loud! :D And thank you, too! Hope you will continue to like it. xxx
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:17 am (UTC)Anyway, I really enjoyed this opening chapter, plenty of scope for the two main characters to develop their relationship from hatred to something more errr... friendly ;-D They haven't exactly got off to a good start!
You have set the scene very well and described your mystery city vividly. I wonder where it is? Obviously, Elijah is a man of fastidious habits who knows what he wants! I really like his personality. Dominic doesn't seem quite the *boor* that he appeared at first to Elijah...
Thanks for this, I just *know* I'm going to enjoy this new series of yours!
XXXX
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Date: 2008-07-29 12:49 pm (UTC)No, Dom just has a touch of foot-in-mouth disease when it comes to Lighe. I wonder why? Future parts will tell.
I hope you continue to enjoy it, my love, and btw, thank you so much for the disk, which came this morning. I shall enjoy that tonight. Off to snooze, now! xxxx
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Date: 2008-07-29 01:26 pm (UTC)Perhaps Dom was having a bad day, got out of bed the wrong side...?
I'm sure I will enjoy it as I hope you do the disk. Have a good snooze :-)
Btw, did your X-ray a fortnight ago reveal anything and did you tell the doc about your theory? Been thinking about you.
XXXX
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Date: 2008-07-29 06:14 pm (UTC)Dom, Dom - he is a complex guy - but, there - so is Lighe! xxx
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Date: 2008-07-29 06:52 pm (UTC)As you've heard nothing about the X-ray, presumably "no news is good news" *fingers crossed*
XXX
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Date: 2008-08-01 12:07 pm (UTC)the LOTR set;Lord of the Coroners,The Two Coroners,Return of the Coroner;
My Old man's A Coroner? (and he lives in a.....).
A little more seriously:
Dominion of the Sword
Coroner's Domain
Coroner's Justice.
It's really hard to find a title!
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Date: 2008-08-01 03:30 pm (UTC)I think I've got it! Thanks to you! - with a small alteration, and after a lot of laughs! :D
Crowner's Justice.
Kyoot, neh? THANK YOU! Huge hugs.
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Date: 2008-08-01 08:49 pm (UTC)P.S.Monday Aug 4th ITV1 10.40 p.m.Film: Green Street with Elijah Wood.18 cert,a bit violent,I believe.
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Date: 2008-08-01 09:04 pm (UTC)On TV, eh? Might watch it that way for the novelty factor. A bit violent, it certainly is!
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Date: 2008-08-03 03:15 pm (UTC)I can tell this will be another great story, already. I'm happy Elijah de Woode (said with French accent) is a compassionate rich dude. : ) Too bad about his poor leg, though.
I can see miscommunication once again causes conflict! It'll be fun to see how this goes. I'm off to read chapter 2, now.
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Date: 2008-08-03 03:39 pm (UTC)I hope you will enjoy it, my love - it's a complex tale, but so much fun to write! I'm not too keen on Richard, not after reading what he did at Acre - and neither, I trow, is Lighe! ;D xxx
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Date: 2008-08-31 01:01 pm (UTC)Oh! and the picture you paint of life at the time is so refreshing. I really enjoy this sort of stuff. *hugs*
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Date: 2008-12-27 02:13 pm (UTC)Looking forward to reading on. Will probably leave next comment when I get to the end of the story.
xxx
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Date: 2010-02-04 02:23 am (UTC)Any road, interesting start. I love how I get an education out your stories. I wish I could take work classes with copulating Dom/Elijah teaching them. If only all learning could be this fun!
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Date: 2010-02-04 01:06 pm (UTC)Happty reading! :D xxxx