followed by the sound of running footsteps.
‘In God’s name!’
Ranulf stepped hurriedly aside as a tall, white-haired knight, swathed in a dark blue cloak, flung himself into the crypt. His face was cut and bleeding, clothes mud-stained.
‘I have been attacked!’
‘Sir Louis!’ Parson Grimstone sprang to his feet.
The newcomer took off his remaining glove and threw it on the ground.
‘I was attacked!’ he repeated.
‘Outlaws?’ Corbett asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Tressilyian sat down on a chair, mopping his face with the hem of his gown. ‘Thank God Chapeleys isn’t here.’
‘Why’s that?’ Corbett asked.
‘I’d swear it was his father’s ghost!’
Chapter 4
The justice took some time to calm down. Parson Grimstone went up to his house and brought back a jug of ale as well as a bowl and cloth. Tressilyian quaffed the ale in a few gulps, then wiped his face. He had a cut high on his cheek, small scars on the backs of his hands.
‘What happened?’ Corbett asked.
‘I was coming down Falmer Lane,’ the justice replied. He paused. ‘You must be Corbett?’
There was more confusion as Corbett made the introductions.
Tressilyian studied him from head to toe. ‘I suppose you’ve already been asked,’ he smiled, ‘why you are here? The King could have asked me to investigate.’
‘Aye, sir, but you were the principal justice who tried Sir Roger. Today’s events prove that this is a matter for royal concern. After all, you, the King’s justice, were attacked on his highway. You were telling us what happened.’
‘I was riding down Falmer Lane,’ Tressilyian explained. ‘There was a fallen tree across the lane, just a sapling. You know how such things frighten horses? Bare branches, dry leaves? I thought nothing of it. I climbed down, took off my gauntlets to grasp it, that’s where some of these cuts came from. Suddenly an arrow came flying through the air.’ Sir Louis tapped the cut high on his cheek. ‘It missed, just skimming my face. I sheltered in the sapling; its twigs and branches cut me. I had no bow. My horse had become frightened and was skittering away. Two more arrows were loosed. I decided that I wasn’t going to wait. I gauged where the mysterious bowman must be, drew my sword and charged as if I was on the battlefield.’
‘But your assailant escaped?’
‘I never even saw him, just a crackle of bracken and then the voice.’ Tressilyian paused, staring across at the coffin. ‘God’s teeth, Corbett, this is a sombre place.’ He flung his hand out. ‘And that poor woman!’
‘What did your voice say?’ Corbett insisted.
‘ “Remember.” That’s what it said. A man’s voice. “Remember, royal justice, how you hanged an innocent man! You and the others will pay for it.” Tressilyian shrugged. ‘Then there was silence. There was nothing more I could do. I returned to my horse and rode here. I saw young Chapeleys going across God’s acre. He’s visiting his father’s grave?’
‘Yes,’ Grimstone replied.
‘Why did you think it was a ghost?’ Corbett asked.
Tressilyian looked at him blankly.
‘When you came in here,’ Corbett insisted, ‘you said you thought you’d been attacked by a ghost.’
‘Well, it’s obvious,’ Tressilyian retorted, his light blue eyes dark with anger. ‘A young woman lies dead, another has been murdered. Members of the jury who found Sir Roger guilty have also paid with their lives.’
‘Yes, but Sir Roger was hanged?’ Ranulf asked. ‘You were present at the execution?’
‘Yes I was. However, after I had passed sentence, before the cart was taken away,’ Tressilyian wiped the sweat from his broad brow and sunken cheeks, ‘Sir Roger protested his innocence. He claimed his name would be vindicated. He would make a settlement with God and return to settle with us.’
Sir Louis’s eerie words in such sombre surroundings created a tense silence. Grimstone and Burghesh looked at each other. Bailiff
‘In God’s name!’
Ranulf stepped hurriedly aside as a tall, white-haired knight, swathed in a dark blue cloak, flung himself into the crypt. His face was cut and bleeding, clothes mud-stained.
‘I have been attacked!’
‘Sir Louis!’ Parson Grimstone sprang to his feet.
The newcomer took off his remaining glove and threw it on the ground.
‘I was attacked!’ he repeated.
‘Outlaws?’ Corbett asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Tressilyian sat down on a chair, mopping his face with the hem of his gown. ‘Thank God Chapeleys isn’t here.’
‘Why’s that?’ Corbett asked.
‘I’d swear it was his father’s ghost!’
Chapter 4
The justice took some time to calm down. Parson Grimstone went up to his house and brought back a jug of ale as well as a bowl and cloth. Tressilyian quaffed the ale in a few gulps, then wiped his face. He had a cut high on his cheek, small scars on the backs of his hands.
‘What happened?’ Corbett asked.
‘I was coming down Falmer Lane,’ the justice replied. He paused. ‘You must be Corbett?’
There was more confusion as Corbett made the introductions.
Tressilyian studied him from head to toe. ‘I suppose you’ve already been asked,’ he smiled, ‘why you are here? The King could have asked me to investigate.’
‘Aye, sir, but you were the principal justice who tried Sir Roger. Today’s events prove that this is a matter for royal concern. After all, you, the King’s justice, were attacked on his highway. You were telling us what happened.’
‘I was riding down Falmer Lane,’ Tressilyian explained. ‘There was a fallen tree across the lane, just a sapling. You know how such things frighten horses? Bare branches, dry leaves? I thought nothing of it. I climbed down, took off my gauntlets to grasp it, that’s where some of these cuts came from. Suddenly an arrow came flying through the air.’ Sir Louis tapped the cut high on his cheek. ‘It missed, just skimming my face. I sheltered in the sapling; its twigs and branches cut me. I had no bow. My horse had become frightened and was skittering away. Two more arrows were loosed. I decided that I wasn’t going to wait. I gauged where the mysterious bowman must be, drew my sword and charged as if I was on the battlefield.’
‘But your assailant escaped?’
‘I never even saw him, just a crackle of bracken and then the voice.’ Tressilyian paused, staring across at the coffin. ‘God’s teeth, Corbett, this is a sombre place.’ He flung his hand out. ‘And that poor woman!’
‘What did your voice say?’ Corbett insisted.
‘ “Remember.” That’s what it said. A man’s voice. “Remember, royal justice, how you hanged an innocent man! You and the others will pay for it.” Tressilyian shrugged. ‘Then there was silence. There was nothing more I could do. I returned to my horse and rode here. I saw young Chapeleys going across God’s acre. He’s visiting his father’s grave?’
‘Yes,’ Grimstone replied.
‘Why did you think it was a ghost?’ Corbett asked.
Tressilyian looked at him blankly.
‘When you came in here,’ Corbett insisted, ‘you said you thought you’d been attacked by a ghost.’
‘Well, it’s obvious,’ Tressilyian retorted, his light blue eyes dark with anger. ‘A young woman lies dead, another has been murdered. Members of the jury who found Sir Roger guilty have also paid with their lives.’
‘Yes, but Sir Roger was hanged?’ Ranulf asked. ‘You were present at the execution?’
‘Yes I was. However, after I had passed sentence, before the cart was taken away,’ Tressilyian wiped the sweat from his broad brow and sunken cheeks, ‘Sir Roger protested his innocence. He claimed his name would be vindicated. He would make a settlement with God and return to settle with us.’
Sir Louis’s eerie words in such sombre surroundings created a tense silence. Grimstone and Burghesh looked at each other. Bailiff
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