Field of Blood

studied Mistress Vestler closely. She stood resolute and pale-faced, drained of all bonhomie. Athelstan recognised that logic, every item of evidence, spoke against her yet there was something dreadfully wrong. He sensed she was lying, but why?
    The clerks gathered to ask Chief Justice Brabazon whether there would be a recess but he waved his sprig of rosemary: he had scented blood, the hunt would continue until the quarry was brought down. Whittock summarised the evidence. Hengan followed with an impassioned and eloquent plea on behalf of his client but his desperation was apparent. At one time he even hinted that, if Mistress Vestler produced Gundulf's treasure, the Crown might consider a pardon for all past offences. Sir Henry chose to ignore this. He conferred with his fellow justices then gave a pithy but damning summation of the case against Mistress Vestler. An hour candle was lit. The jury withdrew but the candle was scarcely burning before the foreman came back and announced that they had reached their verdict. The jury filed back into their pews. The clerk reread the indictment and tolled a hand bell.
    'Members of the jury!' he intoned. 'Look upon the prisoner. Do you find her guilty or not guilty as charged?'
    'Guilty with no recommendation for mercy!' came the foreman's stark reply.
    Kathryn Vestler swayed a little. Hengan hid his face in his hands. Sir John was wiping at his eyes but Athelstan, hands clasped, watched the piece of black silk being placed over Chief Justice Brabazon's skullcap.
    'Kathryn Vestler,' he began. 'You have been found guilty of the hideous crime alleged against you. A jury of your peers has decided that you, maliciously and heinously, murdered Bartholomew Menster and Margot Haden. You claim you are a woman of good repute. The court does not believe this. We know of no reason why you should not suffer the full rigours of the law.' He paused. 'Kathryn Vestler, it is the sentence of this court that you be taken to the place from whence you came and confined in chains. On Monday next, at the hour before noon, you shall be taken to the lawful place of execution at Smithfield and hanged by your neck until dead, your corpse interred in the common grave. May the Lord,' Sir Henry concluded, 'have mercy on your soul! Bailiffs, take her down! Members of the jury, you are thanked and discharged!'
    Kathryn Vestler was immediately hustled away. Athelstan heard the cat-calls and cries from outside as she was led to the execution cart. Sir Henry and all the retinue of the court formally processed out. Sir John sat, legs apart, hands on his knees, staring down at the floor.
    'I am sorry, Stephen,' he muttered as if his dead friend could hear him. 'I am sorry but I could do no more.'
    Hengan still sat on the lawyer's stool, pale-faced and sweating.
    'Come on man!' Sir John called over. 'This is no time and place for tears!'
    They left the Guildhall by a side entrance. A quack doctor came running up, offering a sure remedy for rotting of the gums.
    'It's a distillation of sage water.'
    But he saw the look on the coroner's face and, grasping his tray, scuttled away.
    Sir John marched up Cheapside, Athelstan walking beside Hengan. Now and again he glanced sideways; the lawyer looked truly stricken, lips moving wordlessly, dabbing at his sweaty face with a rag. He seemed unaware of the crowds, of the gentlemen and their ladies, the apprentices screaming for custom, the criers shouting for every household to keep a vat of water near the doorway in case of fire.
    Sir John, also, was in no mood for distractions. Leif the beggarman came hopping over but Sir John raised a clenched fist and the beggarman hobbled away as if he, too, knew this was not the time for his importunate pleas.
    Once inside the Holy Lamb of God Sir John sat down on the window seat and crossly demanded a meat pie and three blackjacks of ale. Athelstan found his throat and mouth dry. He could not believe what had happened. He leaned over and grasped Hengan's hand, which was cold as ice.
    'You did your best, Master Ralph.'
    'I wish I could do more,' the lawyer grated. 'I tell you this, Brother, I am Mistress Vestler's executor. Once I have refreshed myself, I am going to the Paradise Tree to search it from top to bottom. I'll find Gundulf's gold for you, Sir Jack, for old friendship's sake.'
    'If you find it,' Sir John replied, lowering the blackjack, 'I'll seek an immediate audience with my Lord of Gaunt. I'll do that anyway. A stay of