Crowner's Justice - Six

[ismenin]

Hello! Here we are, on the Sabbath, with a watery sun shining over the rooftops opposite. Still, it's certainly better than rain.

The weather is playing havoc with my aching parts - of which there are many - and I wish we had some warmth to see us through the winter months. Not heat, but warmth. That would be nice. Here's hoping for September, hey?

In the meantime - part six for your delectation.




Thanks to ladysunrope for beta, as always.


Part - 6


Elijah heard the door slam as Dom left. "Oh, Lord save us!" he commented, wryly."

“...and I thought it was only he who made untimely remarks," he said, as he settled down in bed, after being persuaded by Andrew to take his drops.

"I wouldn't worry about it, my lord. He has a skin as thick as the crocodillos we saw in Outremer. He'll forget about it by morning."

Elijah grinned, then winced as a pang of pain darted through him. "I pray you are right, Andy."

But Andrew was wrong.

Dom swept into the keep that night like an avenging angel, the dark wings almost visible at his back. He went to see Ben, who was asleep, and questioned the nurse as to his condition, which heartened the Sheriff a little. Ben had drunk some soup and eaten a mouthful of apple tart, she said, proud of her powers of persuasion.

Dom went to his own rooms, kicked a stool across the floor, and went out again. He could neither sit, nor sleep, so he sent for the Captain of the Guard to question him.

Rolf d'Harcourt came to the Sheriff's summons, rubbing his eyes against sleep. He had had a long and trying day, and here was his blasted Sheriff demanding him when curfew had sounded, and all good citizens should be fast asleep in bed, especially soldiers who had to be up before dawn.

He saw in a moment that Dom's mood was not his usual one of pleasant amity, and resolved to keep any disgruntled looks off his face. He had no time to offer a greeting.

"Have you questioned all the men regarding Ben, as I ordered?" Dom barked, staring with stormy grey eyes at the man in front of him.

Rolf wished he'd been asked to sit. There was a stool nearby, but he dared not sit on it uninvited.

"Yes, sir. I have questioned every man in the keep, soldier and civilian."

"And...?" Dom spat, almost snapping the quill he held in his hand. He glared at it and threw it onto the desk, and it bounced off onto the floor.

D'Harcourt did not stoop to pick it up, not with his master in such a mood.

"There have been no strangers seen before the attack, except for those delivering the gifts of food and stuffs, sir," the Captain said. "And all the men, except one, were purveyors of provisions and labouring porters from the town whom the two men on guard saw off the premises. Six men, sir, whom they knew. I have their names..."

Dom interrupted him, his voice harsh. "If they were seen to leave, they do not count - what of the seventh man?"

Rolf rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "No-one remembers him, sir. No-one knew him, that was certain, and nobody remembers him leaving."

He smothered a yawn, hoping there would be no more questions. He wanted his bed.

Then a thought struck him. "Huchin was on guard outside Ben's room on the night the furniture came for Ben, for I saw him there. He said one of the men who delivered it, was the same one that ordered the distribution of the goods from the wagons."

Dom thumped the desk with his fist. "Send Huchin to me straight away, and go to bed - you look exhausted," Dom ordered; worn out as he was, he was careful of his men. They worked hard and long, for little pay. They deserved to be considered.

Dom retired to bed a little later, thinking over Huchin's description of the strange man. It did not reveal much. A man of medium height, with curly brown hair, a plumpish face, and a fresh complexion. Wearing a plain brown tunic, edged with embroidery of blue thread, and matching hosen.

Not much there, for thought, Dom mused. Half the men in the city could answer to that description. I'll order a search tomorrow. It might be him.

*****

The next day, Dom gave the coroner's house a wide berth. He did not care - after the man's rude remarks about him yesterday - whether his damned leg fell off! He went striding down to the gallows to witness the two hangings that should have been the coroner's duty - the devil take the man! And he hated hangings, too. He sniffed. He could never see the point of hanging a woman for stealing a shilling to feed her hungry children, or a man for doing the same. But stealing the worth of a shilling was a hanging offence - a felony. That was the law.

At least today, there were two hardened criminals to despatch, both robbers, who worked together, and did not hesitate to bludgeon their victims into insensibility for the few coins they carried. Their last victim, a carpenter, robbed whilst staggering home drunk from an ale-house, was now lying crippled in bed because of it.

Dom did not waste any sympathy on the two men, and went off to the town, afterwards, to buy Ben a little marchpane with raisins, of which sweetmeat the lad was very fond, and to look about him for the curly-haired man.

No-one was more surprised than Dom, when he found him.

He was coming out of a shop, with Red following behind carrying a basket of meats, and Dom stopped dead in his tracks, eyed the blue-edged tunic, and grabbed the man roughly, by the arm.

"You are under arrest! Come with me!" Dom ordered, and Red stared in alarm at this new, rough-voiced Sheriff, whom he had before only known to be kind.

"What have I done, sir? I am..."

The man tried to run away, and Dom caught him, pushed him hard against the wall, and struck him in the face. "Shut your mouth. I said come with me, and you either come willingly, or I'll set the guard on to bring you, unconscious. Come on!"

Red did not try to argue, or to explain who the man was. He followed the two men back to the keep, walking quietly behind. He did not know if the Sheriff had even noticed him, so incensed had the man been.

At the foot of the stairs to his office, Dom stopped, and ordered a soldier to bring Huchin to him. During this brief interchange the curly-haired prisoner whispered urgently into Red's ear, and the lad left the basket, running out of the keep as fast as his legs would carry him.

Dom recognised the man, when he came to look more closely at him. Huchin knew him, too, when he eventually arrived some time later.

He examined the prisoner carefully, when told to do so. "Aye, Sheriff, that's the man I saw. Shall I take him down to the cells for you?"

The Sheriff demurred and dismissed the guard, turning a puzzled face to Astin, Lord Elijah's steward. "What were you doing here? With the foodstuffs, and the furniture and things for Ben?"

Astin was well prepared. His master had told him what to say should such a thing happen as him being recognised.

"A prominent citizen, whom my master knows slightly, came to his lordship, and said he was desirous of performing a good deed for the residents of the keep, and for several other people, too. As my master was new to the town, and knowing his servants would not likely be recognised, his lordship did as the man requested, and lent him my services. That is all."

Dom felt that the man was telling the absolute truth. He had interviewed many hundreds of men, in his time as Sheriff, and saw the way they held their bodies when they lied, and what they did with their eyes. This man did not know who had provided the goods, that was certain.

In that, Dom was correct. Elijah had not taken Astin into his confidence. Only Will and Andrew were privy to that. His master had told his steward exactly what the man had told Dom.

The Sheriff grimaced, looking up at the man's bruises. His lordship would be spitting feathers in temper when he saw the man's face!

"Who was this benefactor?"

Astin shook his head, wincing as his bruises hurt. "That I do not know. I never saw him. I am sorry, but you must apply to his lordship for that information, Sheriff. I swear to you I have done no evil, here. Please may I leave now?"

Before Dom could answer, Red came rushing into the room, followed by Will, who bowed and addressed the Sheriff in a cool, calm tone. "His lordship requests..." said Will, phrasing Elijah's incredulous and furious demands more politely than had his master, "...that you release his steward immediately, Sheriff. He will attest that the man has done no harm, but only assisted in a great good."

Dom, annoyed with himself for allowing his temper to get the better of him, and striking an innocent man, waved Astin away.

"If I need to speak to you, again, I will know where to find you," he said, shuffling the parchments on his desk, and refusing to look Astin in the eye.

Dom doubted that was the last he would hear on the matter. He was right. Later that afternoon, Red delivered a letter from his lordship.

Sheriff, it read,

I have seen the result of the violence you have used towards my most loyal and trusted servant, and I would be obliged if you would present yourself before me, as soon as it be convenient to you, to answer for it.

Elijah de Woode - Coroner.

Red saw immediately that the Sheriff was more composed than he had been earlier, and ventured a smile.

"Shall you go, now, sir?" he asked. "His lordship said I can stop with Ben, until it is time for me to go home, if he wants me to."

He nodded at the basket he had put down by the door. "There's some tasty leg of mutton from yesterday, and a good lump of cheese in there, if you'd like some - and some apples," the boy said, generously offering some of his dinner.

Dom shook his head. He loved mutton as a rule, but had no stomach for food now, knowing he had to face an angry man - and an angry man who despised him, at that.

He remembered the marchpane he had bought for Ben, and he gave it to the lad, saying they might share it.

He walked slowly down the street, stopping for a moment before he reached Elijah's house, to piss in an alley. Truly, he did not know why he was so nervous of being confronted by the little lord. Dom felt that he could have picked him up and tossed him across the room, so slight in body he had seemed.

But that was before Dom had lain across him, holding him down in his bed, whilst Barebone cut his leg open to the bone. He knew now that there were muscles and thews under that seeming fragility. The man was stronger than he looked.

He shrugged his shoulders, and hammered on the door. No point in being shy about it - he was the Sheriff, after all.

And Elijah was the coroner.

He had promoted himself to his comfortable chair beside the fire in the hall. Dom would not know that Andrew had carried him down. "No need for him to know I brought you, my lord," he had said when his master stated he would be damned if he received the brute in his bed for another day, but had failed to descend the stairs under his own steam.

He was still dressed in his night shift, with a loose robe flung over it, and his bandaged leg resting on a stool.

He looked up as Will let Dom in, and stared at the Sheriff, his eyes implacable in their expression.

"Please be seated, Sheriff. Then you must tell me what drove you to such a violent act on my poor steward. Will, ask Astin to come in for a moment," said Elijah, his voice as cold as his eyes.

The bruise on Astin's face had turned a deep purple, and was swollen and painful. His eye was bloodshot, and the lid covered the whole eye, looking to Dom like an over-ripe plum.

He felt ashamed that he had behaved in so ungentle a fashion - it was not his nature. The thought of someone hurting young Ben so badly had affected the kind-hearted Sheriff more than he had realised.

"I am sorry for your injury," he said, meeting Astin's affronted gaze squarely. "I hope you will accept my assurances that I thought it necessary," he continued.

That was generous indeed. There was no rule that said a sheriff had to apologise to those injured in the prosecution of investigating a crime. He had every right, under the law, to chastise any suspect unto death, and Astin, and his master, knew it. Astin looked mollified, which was more than did Elijah.

"I accept your assurances, gladly," Astin said, bowing, and receiving his master's permission to finish his meal in the back room, set aside for the servants' use.

Dom stood, ready to leave, but, to his surprise, Elijah asked him to stay. " I have been thinking over Ben's case, and would know if you have made any progress at the keep? Have you interviewed the men?"

Dom took the cup which Will handed to him, and drank deeply before answering.

"My Captain of the Guard, Rolf d'Harcourt, has spoken to everyone, my lord. He has told me that no-one remembers seeing anything untoward, nor any strangers, except your steward," he said, not meeting Elijah's look.

Elijah seemed to be thinking hard. "Is your Captain to be trusted?"

Dom refused to allow his temper to rise. It was a valid question. "I believe so. He has been with me for over two years, and has never given me cause for complaint. If he says he questioned them all, then he did."

Then Dom remembered that the coroner was not aware of the whole story, and told him of Ben's fears that he was being watched whilst he slept. "I do not know how real a fear it was, or whether it was the result of night terrors, but I do know that it greatly disturbed the boy."

"Damn this leg!" Elijah said, through gritted teeth. "I have work to do, and here I am laid up like an old gossip."

He stared at Dom, a calculating look in his eye. "You say that the boy thought he was being watched in bed, when the door was bolted?"

Dom nodded. "Yes, he was always glad that bolt was there. But, in the end, it was not in his room that the bastard got him, was it? Damn his eyes!"

"Sheriff, I wonder if I could prevail on you to search the boy's old room? Search it yourself, without anyone knowing - not even Ben. Would you be so kind as to do this?" Elijah's voice did not hold the cold sarcasm that it so often did when addressing Dom, and the Sheriff was aware of it.

He was also aware that for a few more days, at least, the coroner would be unable to take up his duties again. Mere civility compelled him to ask after his health.

"How does your leg, today, my lord? Is it easier?"

Elijah grimaced and gave a wry smile. "It hurts like the very devil, but it is bearable, now. Barebone told me not to stand on it for at least two more days..." his voice trailed off as he saw Dom's expression.

Damn! "If you must know, Andy brought me down, and he will take me up again. He may be small, like me, but he is very strong. He is well-used to carrying me about. It is not the first time this leg had inconvenienced me, as you must know."

Dom nodded, and emptied his cup. "If I am to search that room, I must do it when no-one is about. There is no time like the present. I shall report back to you tomorrow, my lord. What is it you expect me to find?"

Elijah hesitated slightly before replying. "A peep hole, or a trap-door. Something, anyway. I do not think, even from the little I have seen of him, that Ben is a fanciful boy, and if he was as frightened as you say, there was good reason for it."

Dom had risen to leave, but he thought of something he had meant to ask his lordship. "Before I take my leave, will you tell me the name of the man who provided the gifts of foodstuffs and luxuries for Ben, my lord? I would thank him personally. It was a most generous act of Christian charity."

It might have been the candlelight flickering across his face, but Dom swore that Elijah flushed slightly under his question. "I am afraid I cannot, sir. The benefactor swore me, most straitly, to secrecy. I did not even tell my steward, as you found out. I am sorry I cannot help you."

Dom shrugged as he reached for his cloak. "It cannot be helped, if you gave your word. When you see him again, please tell him that he has my undying gratitude, for that, and for his previous generosity to those of us at the keep. He saved a few from sickness and death by his timely intervention, and that I will never forget."

Elijah thought for a moment. "I will be happy to pass on your message to him, Sheriff. He has already told me to say to you that should young Ben need anything else, he will be happy to supply it."

A genuine smile lit Dom's plain features, transforming his face instantly. "That is too kind of him. I will ask Ben what it is he chiefly needs, and let you know. I bid you a good night, my lord - sleep well!"

Dom went out of the house feeling more in charity with the coroner than he had ever done, which feeling lasted the better part of an hour.

***

Dom surveyed the keep from inside the front gates, as the guards let him in.

To the left were the storehouses, and pens and stables, where the animals and horses were kept.
In the centre, the largest block, was the guard-room and the men's quarters, armoury, the ward room, and the prison and other, less savoury chambers, and at the far right of it, accommodation for the married soldiers and their families.

On Dom's right stood the administration building. Downstairs there were more storerooms for grains and cheeses, and other foodstuffs, for it was drier there, and it was here that Ben was attacked. There was a corridor leading to the storerooms, and it was on this corridor that Ben's old rooms lay. Dom's offices and apartments were upstairs, a little further along, on the same side.

The central bailey was the place where the men trained, and assembled their horses for forays out into the city, and surrounding areas.

As Dom looked about him, he realised that Ben was now in the safest place. His room, being near Dom's offices, could only be reached by climbing the outer stairway, which was stone, and echoed loudly, and anyone attempting to do so would be seen - except now, in the dark of night. Dom was glad that everyone in the keep was aware the lad was now well-guarded.

The only thing that concerned Dom was that he was now more certain than ever, after Astin's vindication, that it was someone from inside the keep who was the assailant. Someone Ben knew - and that, of the very men set to guard Ben, one could be his attacker.

It was with relief he remembered the nurses watching over the lad, and the dog who had hardly left Ben's side since he had asked for him.

He decided that now was the best time to search Ben's old rooms. The place was quiet, except for a sound or two from the stables, and other livestock, and everything was dark. There was no point in folks being awake, merely to sit about in the dark, so all went to bed as soon as the night fell, and woke just before dawn in the morning to start their day.

Dom walked as softly as he could across the courtyard, to the outer door of the storeroom area. It was locked. He cursed, and crept to the unglazed window, and hauled himself in. He realised the futility then, of locking a door if there were casements by which a person could enter.

He felt his way along the wall, to Ben's old rooms, which were deserted, now, except for the old, rickety furniture. Dom closed the door, and, as an extra precaution, bolted it. He wanted no-one to see what he was about.

He knew where Ben kept the tallow rushes, and lit four, hanging in clay pots on the walls. Then his eye fell on the precious stubs of beeswax candles which Ben used to light his reports as he worked at night. The boy used to beg off the priests at the cathedral for them and guarded them carefully.

There were two on the table, and Dom lit both of them. The light was fair, as the candles were the remnants of large altar candles, and Dom could plainly see the inner door. He took the candles, and went in.

Nothing had changed, even the old leather bucket was there. The bed still stood against the wall, but there was nothing else in the room. Dom cursed - there was nowhere to set his candles, and the table in the next room was too wide for the door. Then he saw a couple of niches in the wall, above the bed, and planted them there as he looked about him.

There was not much to see. The walls were of stone, the floor also. The ceiling, over ten feet above his head, offered no clues. He felt around all the walls to see if there were any loose stones. There were none. The ceiling was too high to reach without a ladder - that left only the floor.

He picked up one of the candles and peered about. The floor was set with large flagstones. Dom realised that if one of them was loose, a man - even quite a well-built man - could squeeze through the space. It took time, but he found it, set against the far wall in the furthest corner opposite the bed. It was not fixed in like the other stones, with a lime mortar. He tried to prise it up, but there was not enough of a finger hold. It had to be removed from below.

Dom was not aware that there was anything below these rooms. He would be forced to look further in the daylight. He would think of some story as to why he needed to do so, should anyone see him.

He was so excited at his find that as he left, he tripped over the hanging bedclothes, dropped the candles he had just retrieved, and fell heavily over the bed, scraping his shin, painfully on its wooden slats.

Damn de Woode, and his "prevail upon you to search!" Dom cursed, inwardly, rubbing his skinned leg.

He went to bed, not displeased with his night's work. Maybe tomorrow, he would discover the secret of the flagstone.