Lord Le Wyse’s dark brown hair was skillfully cut and combed into place, though his black eye patch gave him a look of danger. His beard was, as always, neatly trimmed, and he wore his finest silk doublet — sapphire blue with gold embroidery — along with a purple velvet robe with an intricate border along the hem, fastened at his right shoulder with a jeweled pin. He would have been welcome anywhere in that attire. Anywhere except, perhaps, here.
In stark contrast, the jury foreman, as well as the other members of the jury, wore the typical dress of the villagers. The foreman’s dull-brown hood hung down his back, its folds draped around his neck and shoulders. His hay-colored hair was stiff and in need of a scrubbing, but his brown tunic was clean. It hung down to his knees over his dull earth-colored hose, and was cinched with a belt at his waist.
The foreman cleared his throat again, looked down at the ground, then finally raised his eyes to meet Lord le Wyse’s. “Did my lord find the body of our bailiff in the woods?”
“Aye, I did.”
“And was my lord the first to discover him?”
“As far as I know.”
“Had you heard the bailiff set up the hue and cry?”
“No.”
“Then how came you to be in the woods at that time of evening?”
“I was on the path to the men’s privy. You do know that some people use the privy?”
This drew several chuckles from the crowd.
The foreman didn’t even smile. “Did you find anyone there with the body?”
“No.”
Maud cried out from the inside edge of the circle of spectators. “Did you kill my father?”
“I did not.”
Turmoil erupted as the hundred bailiff and Sir Clement said, at the same time, “Girl, you may not speak.”
“You are out of order, young woman,” the hundred bailiff said.
Maud ignored him, never taking her eyes off Lord le Wyse. “Then how came my father to lie on the ground with a knife in his hand and teeth marks upon him?”
“I have no explanation to offer.”
“My father was in perfect health!” Maud screamed even as two men grasped her arms and tried to remove her from the gathering. She broke free from the men’s hold and spun away from Lord le Wyse to look at the jurors. “Now my father doesn’t even know who he is! Since this man came to our village we have had nothing but bad fortune. There is a curse upon us! A drought has ruined most of our gardens and pastures. Fire destroyed our grain crop!” She pointed at Lord le Wyse. “This man has brought this curse upon us. I charge you, look upon him! See that he is accursed!”
Annabel cried out in distress, but she was hardly heard above the muffled exclamations of the crowd. How dare Maud say such things? She clutched her hand over her mouth as she stared at Lord le Wyse, almost expecting to see him laid open and bleeding from such a violent, unfair assault. Her only thought was to go to him and shield him, defend him and lash out at this ludicrous attack. She stepped forward.
“Nay, Annabel. You mustn’t.” Stephen caught her by the arm and pulled her back.
She shook off Stephen’s hand and crossed her arms, her eyes fastened on her lord’s face.
Gradually the crowd quieted, and the hundred bailiff spoke quite loudly. “Jury, you are to assess a fine to this woman for this disturbance.”
Maud allowed herself to be taken outside the inner circle of the court without further struggle while the jury conferred about her fine.
In a few moments, the jury foreman said, “For contempt of the court, the jury fines Maud atte Water fifteen pence.”
The hundred bailiff then addressed Lord le Wyse. “Would you like to respond to the accusations?”
From between clenched teeth, Lord le Wyse ground out, “Superstition shows ignorance. I neither caused nor could I have prevented any of those events. It’s her spite that drives her to cast suspicion on me. And I may be accursed, but at least I don’t tell lies under oath.”
Annabel wanted to cheer. The crowd around her mumbled and whispered to each other.
Maud’s cheeks turned fiery red.
The jury seemed to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened as they called two other people forward and questioned them, but neither had any new information to share.
The hundred bailiff spoke. “If no one has any factual information to offer this inquest, I am forced to declare the injury of Bailiff Tom atte Water an accident, unless he, of his own accord, decides to make a complaint.”
Annabel watched Sir Clement’s face. He knew everything and yet he wouldn’t reveal the truth.
The clerk, sitting at his tiny desk, wrote while the hundred bailiff spoke, and while dipping his quill in the ink, he neither lifted his eyes nor his head.
“May the bailiff recover and God’s grace shine upon him and the village of Glynval,” Sir Clement concluded.
At that moment, the skies began to release their first raindrops, and the people scattered, hunching their shoulders as they hurried away to find shelter from the storm.