“No, I told you.” Thomas Smyth’s face was haggard. “I did not see him that day. He did not come here.”

“He left the inn a little before John Beauscyr got there, apparently. He and Sir Ralph had come here with his father, but Sir William and he parted at your door.”

“No. He was not here.” Now Christine felt the suppressed emotion in her husband’s grip. His fist was tightening on her hand, squeezing the blood from her fingers, and she pulled it away gently, walking to a bench nearby and sitting composedly.

The examination continued, but she kept her eyes on her husband, filled with foreboding. She knew that he was hiding the truth, but did not know what it was. He was scared, that much was obvious to her, and she feared that his questioners might notice. As the meeting continued, her husband became more and more agitated.

It was the first time he had kept anything from her. Normally even the smallest details of the mining camp would be discussed with her, the vaguest problems thrashed out, but she had no idea what his connection was with the young man, Bruther. She felt scared. Thomas had always been a strong man, determined and self-assured, but now it was like watching the render flake from a wall, first a chip, then a crack, then more pieces falling until the whole wall was unprotected. That was how she felt, that his reserves of strength and determination were being eroded under the steady impact of something to do with this dead man. But what it was she had no idea.

Last night he had not been able to sleep. She had woken suddenly, and reached out for him, but he was not there; and when she blinked around their solar, she saw he was gone. She found him in the hall, sitting in his chair before the fire, grasping a pint of wine. He had said nothing, but she could see that his eyes were anxious and fretful. Even the dogs had known something was wrong. They sat by his side like guards, peering into his face with devoted concern. But even then he still would not explain what it was that plagued him so.

“It comes to this, then. When Sir William came in, you did not see his son or Sir Ralph and you did not see Bruther – is that right? And while you were out, did you see Sir Robert on the moors?”

And Christine bit her lip and threw her husband an anguished glance as he answered, “No.”

“I think there’s little else we need to ask now, Thomas,” said Simon, rising slowly to his feet and staring at the miner with a degree of distaste. “But think on this: if you want the law to protect people here, and not just your men but you and your family as well, you’ve got to tell us everything. I know you’re keeping something back.” He stalked from the room, closely followed by the two servants and Baldwin, who gave Christine a smile and nod.

As soon as the curtain had fallen, she rushed to her husband’s side. “Thomas,” she began, but he cut her off.

“Get a messenger to find George. Tell him to get back here right away – I need to speak to him. And fetch me a jar of wine. I’m thirsty as a rabid bear.”

She ran to do his bidding. Her husband’s voice carried his old authority again, and she was sure that he had found a way through his troubles. Christine Smyth was right… but if she had guessed the course his thoughts had taken, her heart would have sunk into despair.

16

Climbing on to his horse, Simon took up the reins and wheeled to face the east. Baldwin sprang up, and seeing the bailiff’s quick glance, followed his gaze. At the top of the hill, east of them on the road, a rider was approaching. By the time Hugh had managed to clamber on to his mount it was clear that it was Alicia.

“Good afternoon,” Baldwin said pleasantly as she drew near. “Been far?”

She laughed, happy after her exercise, her face warm and flushed. “Almost as far as Chagford.” She patted her mare’s neck.

The knight moved forward and studied her horse. It was a small chestnut, almost a pony in size, but strong-looking, with firm, solid legs and a heavy neck. “How old is she?”

“Meg? She’s just over three.”

“Tell me if you ever have a foal from her; she looks like a good, sturdy animal. Ideal for this land, I imagine.”

Simon joined them. She gave him a coquettish glance and tilted her head. “Are you here to interrogate me, bailiff?” she teased. “I don’t know if I can be any help to you, but maybe you should force me to tell what I know.”

“I don’t think I need question you too hard,” he said, without returning her smile. “We have already discussed this matter with your father.” For all the good it did us, he added to himself.

Baldwin could guess at the reason for his friend’s sourness. “Tell me, Alicia,” he said smoothly. “You were in Chagford with your mother on the day Peter Bruther died. You didn’t see him at all on that day, did you?”

Her face froze and her hand stopped its patting. “Me? No, I didn’t see him in town. We weren’t there for long, though, we were back here in the early afternoon.”

Trying to relax her, Baldwin smiled, and she did as well, but tentatively, unsure of his next move. “Do you often ride out so far?” he asked.

“To Chagford? Sometimes, not very often.”

“It could be dangerous, surely? There are a lot of men out here who would like to hold the daughter of Thomas Smyth.”

“How do you mean, Sir Baldwin?” she asked innocently, and Simon turned away to hide his broad grin.

The knight’s sudden discomfort made his voice harsh. “I think you know full well, Alicia. In the same way as your friend Sir Robert Beauscyr, I imagine.” It was her turn to blush – not from shame but from a kind of youthful pride – and Baldwin nodded seriously. “You should be careful. There are many different types of wolf on moors like these.”

He was thinking of what they had heard of Smalhobbe as he said this, but she misunderstood. “Oh, but that’s ridiculous! Robert isn’t like that. I don’t care what Father has told you, to me he’s always kind and gentle. I just don’t believe…” She broke off, and her hand twitched, as if wanting to grab back the words before they could reach the knight.

“What don’t you believe, Alicia?” he asked softly, but she shook her head firmly.

“Please forget what I have said. It is unimportant.”

“No, I am afraid it is not. You see, if we are to make sure that it was not Sir Robert, there are certain things we need to know. For example, at present we don’t even know where he was on the day Bruther was murdered. Now, he admits he was on the moors, but will not give us any way of checking it. It is almost as if he thinks he might get somebody into trouble if he says where he was.”

Her eyes would not meet his. She sat perfectly still, gazing at the view, and her voice was small. “You can’t really think he was involved in the murder, can you? He’s such a calm, even-tempered man.”

“Whoever murdered Bruther was probably a very calm man,” said Baldwin. “You have to be calm to take someone by the neck and strangle the life from him, holding him from behind until he stops thrashing and his death-throes are done.”

She winced. “Is that how he died? I hadn’t realized.” After a moment her head lifted and she met his gaze with resolution. “Very well, I will answer your questions.”

“You saw Sir Robert that day?”

“Yes. He was in Chagford when we got there, and I saw him. Mother didn’t, and she didn’t see me go to him. He had been drinking, and was very unhappy because of my father demanding money. I told him I would try to speak to Father and get the ransom reduced. He wanted to talk to me, but Mother was calling and I had to go, so I agreed to meet him later, out at Longaford Tor. We… we have met there before.”

“I see. So you went there in the afternoon and saw him?”

“It was evening by then, getting close to dark, but yes, and he was fine. The drink had worn off. I hadn’t managed to speak to Father yet, though. As soon as Mother and I had got back from Chagford, he went out – he’d only been waiting for George to return. There was some sort of trouble at the mine, apparently. I was going to try to talk to him later. I spent the afternoon with Mother. Later, when she went up to rest, I slipped off to the Tor to see Robert, and was with him in the early evening. When I came home, Father was back and talking with Sir William, so I was too late. Sir William had already paid the money.”