Heartstone (59 page)

Everyone was looking at the family now, in puzzlement and fear. The women rose from their cushions. Fulstowe stood and addressed everyone.

‘There has been -' he paused - ‘an accident. To Mistress Abigail. I fear she is dead. Sir Luke, would you please come with me?'

There were gasps and exclamations. ‘Please,' Fulstowe said, ‘Master Dyrick, Master Shardlake, come too.'

I stepped forward. ‘Fulstowe, are there any servants who have been on duty waiting on the women the whole morning?'

Fulstowe considered, then pointed to a boy Hugh and David's age. ‘Moorcock, you've been here all the time, haven't you?'

The boy nodded, looking frightened.

‘Lad,' I asked, ‘when did Mistress Abigail leave the clearing?'

‘About twenty minutes ago. I heard her tell Mistress Stannard she needed to go to the pissing place.'

One of the ladies spoke up. ‘She did, but she went in the wrong direction. The appointed place is over there.' She pointed to a little path some way off.

‘Who from the hunting party was back in the clearing by then?' I asked the servant.

‘Hardly anybody, sir. Sir Luke had returned, then Master Avery, who said the stag had turned at bay. I think everyone else came back after Mistress Hobbey left.'

Mistress Stannard looked at Fulstowe. ‘What has happened to her?'

He did not reply. I said, ‘Master Avery, would you come too?' He rose, brushing bloody hands on his smock, and followed us back into the trees.

IN THE DELL bluebottles were buzzing round the wound on Abigail's brow. Corembeck's mouth dropped open. ‘Murder,' he breathed. Dyrick for once said nothing, staring at the corpse in horror.

‘I thought it best to keep that quiet for now,' Fulstowe said. ‘You, Sir Luke, are the magistrate. What should we do?'

‘Who found the body?'

I stepped forward. ‘My clerk and I.'

‘We must send to Winchester, for Coroner Trevelyan. At once.' Corembeck put a hand to his brow, where sweat stood out.

‘Why is Avery here?' Fulstowe asked me, nodding to the blood-stained huntmaster. ‘This is hardly appropriate—'

‘Because he knows these woodlands,' I answered curtly. ‘Master Avery, there is something I would show you if you would follow me.'

I led the way to the place where the half-footprint was. ‘Yes,' Avery said quietly. ‘He fired from here.' He bent to a branch just in front of me; a twig was broken off, hanging by its stem. ‘See, this was in his way. He broke it, quietly enough not to disturb her.' He looked at me. ‘I think this man was an experienced archer. Not one of the household servants or the villagers I have been training up. He - well, he hit the centre of his mark.'

‘Thank you.' I led the way back to the glade. Abigail, who had been constantly fidgeting in life, sat horribly still. But as I stepped into the glade I saw someone else had arrived there. Hugh Curteys was in the act of picking up the flower Abigail had dropped. He placed it gently in her lap, then muttered something. It sounded like, ‘You deserved this.'

WHEN WE RETURNED to the clearing the stag had been brought in on the cart. It was left with the does, and a long procession of shocked guests and servants filed back to the house. David, still weeping, was supported by his father. Hobbey's face remained blank with shock. Behind them Hugh walked with Fulstowe, saying nothing.

‘It could have been Hugh or David,' Barak said quietly.

‘Or Fulstowe. Why, almost nobody from the hunt was back when Abigail left the clearing.'

Dyrick fell into step with us. ‘Avery's wrong,' he said. ‘It could have been someone from the village. So many young men practise archery nowadays. Older ones too. Well, we won't be leaving here tomorrow,' he added bitterly. ‘We'll have to wait for the coroner. Me as Master Hobbey's lawyer, you two as first finders. We'll be here till the inquest. Damn it.'

Did he feel nothing for Abigail? I stared at him. ‘I want to see my children,' he snapped.

You could have done it, I thought, you flounced off alone after Hobbey snapped at you. And you are an archer: you were talking about teaching your son.

Barak's shoulders slumped. ‘I begin to wonder if I'll ever see my child born now,' he said sorrowfully. ‘I must write to Tamasin.'

‘And I to Warner.'

We arrived back at the house. As we approached the steps to the porch, the front door banged open and Leonard Ettis marched out, a frown on his face. He stopped and stared at the procession, the weeping David supported by the pale, shocked Hobbey.

Fulstowe strode over to Ettis. ‘What are you doing here?' he barked.

‘I came to see you,' he retorted. ‘To find out if your men still intend to enter our woods this week. Or try to. But there was nobody here but that savage-mouthed old cripple sitting in the hall.'

‘Mind your tongue,' Fulstowe snapped.

‘Oh yes, watch what I say.' Ettis laughed. ‘It'll be a different story when I lead the village militia to fight the French.'

Barak and I exchanged glances. ‘Priddis,' I said. ‘I had forgotten all about him.'

‘It was the hunt today.' Fulstowe looked narrowly at Ettis. ‘Surely you had not forgotten that?'

‘I thought you might be back and this matter can't wait. We need an answer from you.' He looked over the little crowd, stared again at Hobbey and David. ‘Has something happened?'

‘Mistress Hobbey is dead,' Fulstowe replied bluntly.

Ettis stared. ‘What?'

‘Shot dead with an arrow by an unknown assailant. Which way did you come to the house, Ettis?'

The yeoman's eyes widened. ‘You - do you accuse me?'

Corembeck stepped forward. ‘Which way did you come, Ettis?'

Ettis glared at him. ‘From the village.'

‘Not through the woods?'

‘No!'

‘Alone?' Fulstowe asked.

Ettis took a step forward and for a moment I thought he would strike the steward. Then he turned and marched away down the drive. Dyrick looked meaningfully at Corembeck.

We walked into the hall, where Priddis and his son sat waiting. Fulstowe told them what had happened. I saw the old man's eyes light up with greedy curiosity. For him, I realized, this was an unexpected piece of excitement.

I WENT UPSTAIRS to change for my ride with Edward Priddis. I felt guilty now for wanting to stay. Barak wanted so much to return to Tamasin. Looking out of the window, I remembered, sadly, Feaveryear and the two boys practising at the butts. David and Hugh had both disappeared to their rooms when we returned; I did not know who, if anyone, was with them.

When I went back downstairs Sir Quintin was still ensconced in his chair by the fireplace with his son, watching all that was going on with horrible amused interest. I asked Barak to stay in the great hall, and listen to all that was said. Edward rose and we went to fetch the horses. As we rode out, Edward's manner was cool and distant, but civil enough.

‘This is a terrible thing for you to find here,' I said.

He nodded seriously. ‘These are strange and dreadful times.'

‘What news of the French in Portsmouth?' I asked.

‘They say their fleet has been sighted off the Sussex coast. People are becoming fearful.'

‘Yes, there is much fear underneath people's show of confidence.'

‘Nonetheless,' he said firmly, ‘we must face whatever comes.'

I studied him. Edward had bushy eyebrows like his father, and a firm, obstinate set to his mouth. ‘I believe your father knows Sir Richard Rich,' I said.

He gave me a wintry smile. ‘Yes, he is an old acquaintance. We met and had a talk with him at the Portsmouth Guildhall. The day you brought Hugh Curteys there. I hear the merchants who have overcharged the army or provided bad food come to Sir Richard Rich in fear and trembling. I imagine he will soon cut through their excuses about having to charge more because of the new coinage. Sir Richard learned the art of interrogation under a master. Cromwell. But you will know that.' Again that wintry smile, a piercing look from those blue eyes.

‘Rich spoke of me?'

Edward smiled coldly. ‘A little. He asked my father about the case you have on down here. He said you can become - very strongly involved with your clients.'

‘No bad thing in a lawyer, surely, Brother.' I inclined my head, hiding the anxiety I felt at Rich's continued interest in me.

‘True.'

‘Did you qualify at Gray's Inn, like your father?'

‘I did. I worked on official service in London for a while. After a few years I came back to Winchester, to help Father in his work.'

‘You must do the bulk of it now, I hazard.'

‘Oh, Father still holds the reins. I am but his trusty steed.' I caught a note of bitterness. Are you waiting to succeed him? I wondered.

‘Look over to your right, Brother,' I said. ‘Those are Hugh Curteys' lands that were cleared some years ago.'

We came to a halt, near the area of cleared woodland Barak and I had seen on our ride. New trees, little more than saplings, stood amid thick undergrowth and the mossy stumps of old trees. It was hot, still and quiet. I said, ‘I think there was more oak in this land than the accounts allow.'

‘And the evidence for that?' Edward asked sharply.

‘The fact the uncleared area of woodland to the south has a great deal of oak.'

‘The soil may be different.'

‘It looked very similar when I rode through it a few days ago.'

‘The day an arrow was shot at you?' He looked at me curiously.

‘Yes. Everyone thought it was a poacher. But after today I wonder.'

‘A madman roaming these woods,' Edward mused. He glanced apprehensively at the distant trees.

‘Sir Luke seems to think he has his suspect.'

‘He may be wrong. Perhaps some deserter from the army is in hiding out in the trees. He tried to kill you, then came across poor Mistress Hobbey. He may have wished to rob her.'

‘I do not believe she had a purse with her. The family would have noticed if one was gone.'

‘Still, you will forgive me if I say I would like to keep the inspection brief.'

‘This area is quite open, and we are out of bowshot from the trees. I suggest we ride through the cleared area, look at how many oak stumps we can see.'

‘If you insist.' Edward looked across at the treeline, about five hundred yards away. He was nervous; I wondered whether pride had made him accede to his father's suggestion that we still make this ride. We rode on, guiding the horses carefully.

‘I gather your family comes from near Rolfswood,' I said casually. I had decided to see what I could find out. Edward Priddis was clever, and a smooth talker, but I sensed he lacked his father's strength of character.