Crowner's Justice - Four

[ismenin]

Prim's Lovely Elijah manip. Squeeeee!!

Hello, hello! ladysunrope has just beta'ed this in situ, so to speak, and is, even now, sitting reading in my chair. Another squeeee! We have just enjoyed a splendiferous loooong weekend with LSR and two lovely friends. I was treated like a queen and taken to Stonehenge, which is a place I love, and has SLASH FIC written all over it. Thank you so much for your abundant hospitality, dear tweedle_, and for going more than the extra mile - and your smashing company lisabellex and LSR for coming to fetch me and taking me home. More of all that, later!

But, for now, my story! Which is not so much a whodunnit, as it is a "how do we prove they dunnit?" Giggles.






Thanks to ladysunrope for on-the-spot beta! Hugs!


Part - 4


Elijah got the family's permission to sell the weapon, now it was known to belong to them; both sons being horrified at the suggestion that they might want to keep the thing.

"Sell, it, my lord. Let it do some good in the end," said the widow, as she prepared to follow her husband's body to its final resting place at the cathedral.

Dom was talking to the boy who found the knife, when Elijah returned to the small group. The lad by now was hopping on one foot in his delight at owning as much as two silver pence, and of being of help to the Sheriff as well as the kind man limping towards him.

"He didn't find it near the river, my lord," Dom revealed as Elijah approached. "He cannot be blamed for not connecting it with the death," he said, rather defensively.

Elijah's blue eyes regarded him coolly. "Who said there was any blame attached to him, Sheriff? I certainly did not," and with that he dismissed Dom from his mind, and concentrated on the boy.

"Will you take me there, now, and show me the exact place where you found it?" Elijah smiled at the lad, who was so manifestly willing to please.

"I will, sir. Follow me!" and he ran quickly up the incline, and waited at the top for the rest of them, seemingly amazed they were not as quick.

"Do you two go back to the house," Elijah said to Will and Andrew, "Will, you can write down the rest of the details when I return."

He limped up the rise, using his stick to aid his ascent, and Dom, ever willing to help, made another mistake.

"It is quite a way to walk, my lord. If you wish it, I will go, and report back to you. It may save your leg..."

Dom's voice trailed away as he saw the fury in Elijah's face. "Do you say I am not capable of performing my duty, because I am, in some sort, crippled?" he snapped at Dom, turning to glare at him. "I am quite happy to follow the boy, I thank you. Lead on," he said, gently, to the lad, ignoring Dom's presence.

The boy, not being in the slightest way stupid, adapted himself to his company, and walked beside Elijah, taking his pace from him. Dom followed behind with Ben, cursing himself inwardly once more, for being an idiot.

The boy revealed that his name was Osred Cobbler, and that he was an only child, who lived with his mother, a widow, in the old shop once run by his father, in Lime Street. "She calls me Red, because of my hair," he chirped, ruffling his bright auburn locks, and grinning at Elijah, whom he found an interested listener, not above smiling, unlike most important men he had come across in the city.

"We must pass the shop to get to the place I found it. Can I stop and tell her - give her the two pence?" Red asked, eagerly.

They passed the pie shop where Elijah had so enjoyed the wares, and he saw Red looking longingly through the door, and fingering the coins in his pocket.

"Go in and get some, Ben," Elijah said, turning to the lad behind him, and handing over a coin, not trusting Red's filthy hands. "Er...six, I think..."

"I thank you," said Dom, lying through his teeth, remembering the taste of the delicious pies but determined not to be beholden to this man's generosity, "but I do not wish for a pie."

Elijah looked down his nose at the Sheriff, who was immediately given the impression that he had not been offered one.

"Six, Ben, if you please. You may share them with Red, and his mother."

Elijah enjoyed his pie as they went, and Dom looked resolutely ahead, ignoring the tempting smell of the mutton and rich gravy.

When they reached the old cobbler's shop, Red dashed in with a pie and the twopence, and when the widow came out, Elijah saw it was the woman he had seen at Barebone's shop, two days before. She curtseyed shyly to the two men, smiled at Ben, and told her son to be a good lad, and help the gentlemen all he could. Elijah noticed the sore on her cheek already seemed smaller. Barebone was good, there was no doubt of it. He would call upon him on the way back.

As they followed Red through the narrow streets, Elijah became glad that he had the protection of the Sheriff with him, for the area they were walking into was far from salubrious, and he felt slightly vulnerable, dressed as he was in a dark blue velvet tunic, with an expensive, fur-trimmed cloak flung over it.

He saw several rough persons examining him, as if judging to a penny the cost of his clothing, and determined to order some plainer raiment, to be worn whilst prosecuting his duties.

They stopped outside a dilapidated house, half way up a dark lane. Red pointed to a hole in the dirt. "It was in there, sir," he said, proudly. "I tripped over it, I did."

Elijah looked about him. There was no-one about, and the building looked run-down and neglected. "What is this place?" he asked Dom, who was standing at his side, examining the hole as if it was a fascinating object, and studiously ignoring the building in front of him. Dom looked up, as if he only now recognised where he was.

"It is, er..." he glanced at his clerk, a budding priest, and moderated his language. "It is a house of ill-repute," he went on, blushing slightly at being able to answer the question.

Elijah had never been inside one, and judging by the neglected state of this one, he thought he was never likely to. However, he had no doubt, judging from Dom's uneasy state, that the Sheriff had used its facilities.

"Who owns it?" he asked, wondering if it was worthwhile interrogating the inmates to see if Flagsheet also frequented the place.

Dom sniffed. "It is owned by the Bishop of this city, and the rent, plus a portion from the women's earnings, is paid to him," he said in a colourless tone, which was intended to hide his intense dislike of the Bishop.

Elijah glanced at him. "Do you say?" he mused, not having heard of the Bishop of Southwark's similar holdings in London. "Well, if that is so, I wonder that his Grace does not put a little money into refurbishing the place. Surely he would get more rent for it if he tidied it up a little? It is not good business practise to neglect one's properties," he continued, as Dom stared at him, his mouth open.

"Do you think that Master Flagsheet...? No, there is no need to ask. They would deny he had been there, in any case."

Dom smiled, in spite of himself. "Very likely. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the keep. I have people to see." He bowed most courteously and, with some relief, went off down the road with Ben, leaving Elijah and Red standing there, alone.

Elijah was extremely annoyed that the Sheriff had left him alone in such a downtrodden area, quite forgetting that he had, earlier in the day, wished the man elsewhere.

He looked at his companion. He was a bright lad, and Elijah felt that he could do with someone to show him about the place, someone who did not draw attention to his limp, someone who did not make fun of him, or smirk at him after bursting in upon him, mother-naked, on his bed, like certain persons he could name. He wished he could dispense with the Sheriff's superior knowledge of city life, and, therefore, his company. He came to a decision.

"Red, where do you work?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Nowhere, really. My Mam can't afford to have me apprenticed anywhere, so I grab a day here and there, when I can. Sometimes," he sniffed, remembering, "I go out of the city, and the tanners on the moor give me a day at the vats, but I hate that."

His nose crinkled at the thought. "The smell of the piss, and the feel of the dog-shit squelching between your toes as you tread the skins..." He shuddered...."Ugh! And it hangs about you for days, the stench does."

Elijah's heart went out to the skinny lad, although he had to admit to being glad the boy had not been at the vats that day. "Would you care to work for me?" he asked, watching Red's face light up like a beacon. Then it fell again. "I ain't a...one of those boys that do it with men for money, master. I'll do most things, but not that, beggin' your pardon," he continued, not meeting Elijah's gaze.

Elijah was shocked that the boy knew of such things. So young, yet so aware of life and all that it contained. "No, no, I assure you - nothing like that. Just lead me about the city, run errands, and help me find places and people - things like that."

Red's face lit up again. "I can do that," he said, grinning. Then his eyes narrowed, craftily. "How much?"

"Twopence a day," Elijah said, grinning back. "And all your meals, and a bit spare for your mother, and...new clothes as befits your station."

The lad looked stunned at his good fortune. "Will I live with you, then?" he said, uncertain. "You see, my Mam doesn't like to be alone for too long. There's this man who pesters her, see. I wouldn't like to leave her alone at nights. He'd get to know of it, certain," Red wildly invented, still not absolutely sure of the crowner's intentions.

They were walking as they spoke, and Elijah asked Red to take him to Barebone's shop. "You can stay with your mother at night, that is no problem. But be at my house an hour after dawn, and if I send for you, you must come, night or not - do you understand?"

Red nodded. "I daresay I can pay Molly half a penny, now and then, to stay with my Mam, if needed. She works for the laundress next door, and she has whacking great muscles, I tell you!"

They had reached Barebone's shop, and it was empty of customers. The apothecary was grinding something in a mortar, something that smelled sweet and healthful.

"Ah, my lord!" he said, looking up from his work. "You come in a good hour! Your shoes are ready."

Elijah sat down whilst the man went into the back room, returning with two pairs of shoes, which he put on the counter top. One pair being Elijah's old shoes, and the other pair, brand new, dark blue, nearly black, with elegant silver studded aiglets on the end of the tie fastenings. The finest Cordovan leather, Elijah could see that.

The man looked slightly apologetic. "I had to get the cobbler to make another pair. With the insert inside, I saw immediately that the back of the shoe would have not been high enough on the heel, and would have rubbed you. I think he made an excellent job of them, and I felt sure you would not begrudge the expense. Will you try them?"

Red hurried to remove Elijah's boots, marvelling that underneath them his new master wore fine grey stockings, tied above his knee to his underdrawers. Barebone put on the new shoes, buckling them comfortably, and asked Elijah to stand and walk about a bit.

Elijah noticed the difference immediately. "It is wonderful!" he exclaimed. "My leg does not have to bend so much with the extra piece in there. There is no drag, now. Thank you!" He shook the apothecary's hand, much moved by the immediate relief this innovation had given him.

Barebone beamed with delight. "I suggest you give all your old shoes away, and go to Caelin Cobbler to replace them. He has your measurements, now, and has made a new last for you. It bears your name. This young lad will know where he is."

Red nodded. "That I do. My dad used to say he was the best cobbler in town, next to him."

Elijah patted the boy on the shoulder, then worried about fleas. "We can see about getting you some new clothing, too, whilst we are there. Is there a tailor nearby?"

These details having been thrashed out, Elijah mentioned the salve Barebone had given him. "My man rubs it in every night as you said, massaging it well into the muscle. It has helped, but the red, tender spot, which is slow to heal, is still there. I must admit it gives me much pain by the end of a long day."

Barebone frowned. "If you are willing, I will come and examine it again tonight, when we will have peace from an impertinent Sheriff's demands."

He grinned as he said it, but saw the expression of displeasure on Elijah's face as he mentioned Dom, and strove to make amends. "The Sheriff is a very good man, my lord. Honest, diligent, and fair. It is true he tends to rush in where angels fear to tread, but I never blame a man for being honest, or for speaking his mind. You may safely trust in him."

Elijah said nothing. The Sheriff was a boor, and an ignorant savage as far as he was concerned and needed no further mention.

Fortunately the cobbler's shop was not far away, but, in any case, with the new shoes on, Elijah step was blithe, and for the first time in months, his leg did not pull as he walked.

Silently blessing Master Barebone, and glad that he paid the man beyond his demand, Elijah ordered four new pairs of shoes and two pairs of boots, making the cobbler grin all over his hairy, fat face.

They ordered a pair each of shoes and boots for Red, also, but Master Cobbler said he must wash his feet well before he dared to put them on. "Nothing worse for good leather than dirt. Clean them often, and clean them thorough!" he instructed. They had left Elijah's old shoes at the cobblers, as Elijah said it might be some poor person would benefit from them. He knew his feet were too small for them to fit anyone in his household. They were even too small for Red, who had tried them on.


They were fortunate at the tailor's, too. When Elijah explained what he wanted, the man rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, and said he had two suits of clothes, complete with cloaks, tunics, shoes, shirts, stockings and undergarments already made, if Elijah needed clothing quickly, and would condescend to look at them.

"I made them for my son to take to Exeter. He was to be apprenticed to a prosperous grain merchant there, as clerk, being a studious sort of lad, and my only boy." His face grew sad. "But he fell into a fever after catching the rheum, and died, so he never wore them."

Whilst he was there, Elijah ordered for himself two new tunics and cloaks, of plain design, one in dark blue, the other in dark grey, with hosen to match. He thought they would be more suitable for his work than anything he now owned.

Shortly afterwards Elijah stepped out, followed by Red dressed, now, in a fine tunic and hose of dark grey wool, with new shoes - stuffed with a little cloth, for they were a trifle large - and a matching cloak thrown over his shoulders.

The tailor had insisted that the lad wash thoroughly in the back yard of his shop, under the pump, before trying them on, and his wife, a kindly, but firm woman, made him strip, and scrubbed him all over - despite his protests - with harsh soap to kill off the fleas.

The clothes and shoes were found to be as near a fit as damn it. They strode back to Elijah's house, Red, his eyes burning and sore from the soap, but otherwise happy, carrying the spare outfit of dark green in a sack.

They had not been in above an hour before the constable was at the door. "You're needed at the keep, my lord," Wuffa Catchpole said, breathlessly, as if he had run all the way. "Rape!" he managed, eyeing Red, and wondering where he had seen him before.

Elijah sighed, and calling for Will and his scrip, followed the constable to the keep, Red walking behind carrying his new master's cloak - and the stick - just in case his lordship's new shoes failed in their purpose.

Elijah was unhappy dealing with rape cases, and, since he had been working as coroner, he had had two, both in London where he went to see how it was a coroner functioned. He was comfortable with women, but not when they were weeping, and bruised, and more often than not, bleeding from the assault.

Wuffa had said nothing more about the case, and Elijah assumed it was because there was nothing further known.

The Sheriff met him just inside the gate. "I saw you coming, so I came down for you," Dom said, his voice tight with fury and concern, and Elijah wondered if it was the Sheriff's woman who had been violated.

"In here," he said, shortly, leading Elijah and his companions into a room off a passageway in the right wing of the keep. There was a door at the far end of it, and in the room beyond there was a bed against the wall, the only furniture there, and there was somebody lying on it, crouched on their side, covered with a blanket. It was Ben.

"We had not been back long, when I sent him down to the storerooms for some bread to go with our cheese," Dom said, his face pale with woe. "When he did not come back, I thought he must have been delayed, talking or some such thing, that was all. Then I heard one of the men calling for me. He had found him on the store-room floor. He has not spoken a word since he was found."

Elijah went over to the bed, and looked at Ben, lying there, his face tense with shock, his eyes tight closed. Before he had a chance to speak, Barebone hurried into the room, carrying his bag.

It was to Elijah he looked to for assent, not Dom, and Elijah lifted his hand. "I think we should leave," Elijah said, as Dom moved towards the boy in the bed, as if to protect him.

Dom looked at the coroner for a moment, as if he had not understood what he was doing there, then wordlessly, he followed him out of the room.

They sat on a bench Wuffa had drawn up next to the table. Elijah looked about him. A small, rickety table, the bench, one chair, a chest without a lid upon it, a plain, rough-hewn cross on the wall. Both the rooms were dismal. No place for a young lad to spend his life.

"I know it makes no sense to do so," said Dom, running his unsteady hands over his face, "but I blame myself."

"How so?" asked his companion, not understanding. Dom crossed his arms over his chest as if holding himself together. He breathed deeply a few times, before continuing. "He said that a few nights ago, he felt as if someone was in his room, looking at him lying in bed."

"Of course, he got up to look, but there was no-one there, and he bolts his door at night, so no-one could have got in. I thought it a fancy of his - boys of his age often have them - but the bolt was a wise precaution. I thought it enough. I was wrong.
He was lying on the floor, my lord, when I first saw him - half naked, his robe about his head - his undershift dragged up, ...there was...there was...."

Dom was choked with tears, and, for the first time, Elijah felt sorry for the man. He raised his arm to pat Dom's shoulder, then thought better of it. The man did not like him, after all.

"His grandmother trusted me to look after him when he said he wanted to leave the cathedral school, and come to work for me as clerk. I served with his father in the militia, fighting Prince John's men when they tried to take over the kingdom. He was killed there, in the last battle, and Ben's mother could not bear it, so she joined her husband in death. There is only his grandmother, now. What will I say to her?"

Elijah could not answer that, and was glad when Barebone came out, wiping his hands with a cloth.

"He has been much hurt, but he will heal, I trust, in time. It was a savage attack. I have tended to him, and given him a potion - he is sleeping, now. He will not wake before I return. I will come back when the shop closes, to see how he does."

He looked at Elijah, and noted the absence of the stick. "Have the shoes made a difference, my lord?"

Elijah stood, and walked about for him to see. Forgetting Dom, sitting behind him, he said, pleased, "a difference, indeed, Master Apothecary. If it was not for the pain, I would hardly notice it..."

He remembered Dom, and stopped, blushing. To reveal his weakness - his pain - before this...churl...was not wise. No doubt he would laugh about it with his cronies, later, over a mug of ale.

Barebone bowed, as Elijah thanked him again, still blushing. "I shall see you later, my lord." He spared a glance at Red, standing proudly, holding his master's property. "You look as bright as a new penny, Red, my lad. You be good to your new master, and he'll be good to you, I have no doubt."

With that he left, and Elijah decided to question some of the soldiers there to see if anyone could shed light on Ben's assault.
He turned to tell the Sheriff of his intentions, but Dom was staring at Red, with a bemused expression on his face.

He thinks as Red did, at first - that I have taken him for my catamite! Damn his impudence! Elijah thought, angrily. However, he knew that to disabuse the astonished man was to water the seed of suspicion. Of course, no man who had lewd intentions towards the lad would admit it.

"I will interview some of the men," Elijah said, his voice pregnant with a fury towards him that Dom did not understand. He began to rise, but the coroner stopped him. "I shall do very well on my own, I thank you. I do not need an escort."

Dom was dumbfounded to see Red look so well in his new clothes; he could not contain his surprise as he recognised the lad. He had no doubt the crowner would be a good master, as all his servants seemed to be well tended, and happy. Red was indeed a fortunate boy, unlike some...and that brought his mind back to Ben and all that had befallen.

Elijah left Dom sitting on the bench, his head in his hands, but forgot about the Sheriff as soon as he left the room - he was solely concerned with Ben.

The interviews proved fruitless. No-one had seen Ben that day, either in the yard, or going into the storeroom. "Well, I might ha' seen 'im," said one sergeant, scratching his head," but we're so used to seeing 'im about the place, my lord - if you knows what I mean..."

Elijah knew exactly what he meant, and it was getting him nowhere. One of the wives said she had seen him leave with the Sheriff that morning, but that was all.

As the Captain of the Guard led Elijah and Red to the door, he asked how Ben was. "A dreadful thing to have happened to a lad," he said, eyeing Red with a wary glance. "Torn open like that. You be careful, young man, is what I say. Whoever did that was an animal, and he won't care who gets in his way. "

Elijah spoke to a few other people coming in through the gates, both soldiers and women, before he left. He was thoughtful as he left the keep, for he had heard something to think upon, although it did not bear discussion just yet.


Red went home that evening carrying a plump roast capon, some pandemain bread, as white and soft as snow - that he doubted his mother had ever even tasted, so dear it was to buy - and a bag of dried damsons and some slightly wrinkled apples, which Annie, the cook, had said his mother could bake into a pie.

Red did not think it worth mentioning that one needed flour and fat to make pastry for a pie, but as he was taking home two whole pennies in wages - together with the other two he had got that morning - he thought his Mam could very well buy those items, instead of having to beg for left-overs in the market place, by offering to work for the stall-holders for a day.

He went home swinging his basket with glee. Never having to beg again! He knelt by his bed that night, and prayed hard that God would preserve his master from all ills and dangers, so that he would have a long and fruitful life. "For if you don't, and he dies on us - we are in the basket, again!" he said, to the ceiling, before climbing into bed.



Five minutes after Master Barebone arrived at Elijah's house that night, the Sheriff was begging admittance.

Will saw how drawn and pale the man was, and offered him a seat by the fire, and a cup of wine. "The apothecary is with him at the moment, Sheriff. I am sure you will be happy to wait until his lordship comes down." Will said with careful emphasis. He did not add the words this time, to his comment, but they were there, nonetheless.

Dom understood, and nodded. "Thank you. I will wait here."

Will, now certain that the man was not going to rush up the stairs again and further upset his master, bowed, and left him to his drink.


Barebone was prodding Elijah's leg, and Elijah was wincing. Andrew, used to seeing his master injured, judged it must be hurting greatly to provoke that reaction from him.

"Hell's teeth, man - your fingers are like knives!" Elijah hissed as Barebone hit a particularly sore spot.

The apothecary straightened up, and smiled at his patient. "I think I have discovered what ails you, my lord."

"What, you have made this decision without a single glance at my urine? You are a singular healer, Master Barebone." Elijah swung his legs off the bed, but Barebone stopped him. "Stay there a moment, if you would." He sat on the bed and looked carefully at Elijah's face. "Would you be prepared to undergo a little more pain, if it were to ease it, once and for all?" he asked.

Elijah stilled. "What do you mean?" he asked, hopeful, but yet wary.

"I think there is still a fragment of the arrow left in the wound, my lord, causing foul humours to collect about it. If that is so, it will never heal. In fact, it will worsen, until the whole leg is rotten."

Andrew drew in a breath. That was grievous news. To amputate a leg that high up on the thigh, meant almost certain death.

Elijah bowed his head. "What would you do?"

Barebone placed his hand on Elijah's knee. "I would remove the fragment, scrape the bone, and drain the pus."

Elijah nodded. "But it will heal?" He looked anxiously into the healer's face, expecting to see only truth writ there. He was good at getting the measure of a man, and Barebone was honest, he was certain.

Barebone sighed. "If I am correct, it will heal - but there is always a risk involved, my lord. You must know that."

He had no choice. To remain in pain - eventually to die of poisoning - or to have a chance to be rid of it, for ever.

"Will you do it now? Tomorrow is Sunday, and, God willing, nobody will get murdered, or raped, or burn their house down on the Sabbath, so I have until Monday to rest," said Elijah, with an attempt at humour.

"I will need a few strong men, my lord, you know that," Barebone said, more to Andrew than his master.

"I'll go and get Will and Astin, then," Andrew glanced at his master, then at the healer. "Anything else?"

Barebone told him what to bring, and Andrew left. In two minutes he was back, looking grim. "Mary and Annie are bringing the stuff up, but Astin has gone out to do something on your orders, my lord, with the grooms, as I understand it. There is only Will - and the Sheriff, of course, who is waiting downstairs. Will he do?"

Barebone nodded. "I have worked with him before. He will do - that is, if his lordship has no objections?"

Elijah pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying something inapropriate. He had every objection. What did the man want, now? Was he to have no peace from him at all?

But then, as he thought more carefully, he remembered that the man had already seen him naked so there was nothing new for him to see, was there? And if he waited until tomorrow, his courage might fail him. He knew that there would be much pain - he had travelled this road before. Besides, it was churlish to refuse, if the man was willing to help. The sooner it was done, the better.

Elijah tucked his undershift tightly between his legs then closed his eyes.

"Ask him to come up, Andy," he said.

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[ismenin.livejournal.com]

Aw, bless! Hope you feel a bit better, now, me dear. <3

Postings on Thursday and Sunday from now until I post part 20! Is happy. xxx