Field of Blood

'that I would force Sir Jack to take the barrow down to the Thames and I'd escape with the gold. But this is life, not some troubadour song.'
    'What are you going to do?' Athelstan repeated.
    Hengan took a bolt from the large wallet he carried on his belt and slipped it into the groove on the arbalest.
    'I confess all, Brother. To a certain extent I am sorry. Sorry for myself, for Kathryn, for all this sordid mess. I don't want to hang. I don't want to dance in the air. This is much quicker.'
    And, before Athelstan could stop him, Hengan ran towards Whittock. Confusion and chaos broke out. At first Whittock didn't understand what was happening until Hengan stopped and loosed the quarrel.
    The crossbow bolt went awry, lost in the long grass. Hengan fumbled for another. Whittock shouted an order. Two of the bowmen hurried through the lych gate, bows bent, arrows pulled back. Hengan began to run, lifting the arbalest, a stupid, futile gesture. The two longbows twanged. One arrow caught Hengan full in the neck, the other in the chest. He flung his arms up against the sky and crashed to the ground where he rolled on his side, legs moving, then lay still. The two archers ran across and turned the corpse over.
    'Dead, sir!' one of them called out.
    Whittock hardly spared the fallen man a glance. He strode across the meadow and, without a by-your-leave, pulled back the canvas sheet and stared open-mouthed at the gold.
    'Gundulf's treasure at last!' he breathed. 'Did you find it, Sir John?'
    'I would like to say I did, Master Whittock, but the truth is that Brother Athelstan found it.'
    'How did you know?' the friar asked.
    The serjeant-at-law's harsh features broke into a
    'I am the Crown's officer. I have a right to know. I also paid the servants and scullions at the Paradise Tree good silver to keep me informed of everything that happened there. I was at the Guildhall when the news arrived so I went to the Tower, collected these merry lads and came here.'
    'You do not seem concerned about Master Hengan?' Athelstan asked.
    'I stood and watched for a while. It was apparent, how can I put it, that events had rapidly changed.'
    'Did you have any suspicions?'
    Whittock clicked his tongue. 'I would like to say yes.' He grinned. 'No lawyer wants to be wrong. How can I put it, Brother? I did sense something amiss and wondered if Mistress Vestler had an accomplice. The only thing I found truly strange was that Hengan never hid those household accounts which told me so much. He was responsible, wasn't he?'
    Sir John nodded.
    'The Crown will need a full report, Sir Jack.' Whittock snapped his fingers and called the archers over.
    'Have the corpse taken to the death house in the Tower! This,' he pointed to the barrow, 'will also be taken there and guarded until His Grace the Regent inspects it.'
    'It's treasure trove,' Sir John said quietly. 'And, according to the law, a portion of it should be given to the person on whose land it was found and to the finder.'
    Whittock scratched a cheek and, bending down, picked up Hengan's chancery bag.
    'Oh, don't worry, Sir John, in the end justice will be done. I will take care of our dead lawyer and the Crown's gold. And you, sir, have my permission to go to Newgate. Within the hour a letter of release will be despatched. All charges against Mistress Vestler, including that of smuggling, will be withdrawn. A good day's work, Sir John.' He bowed. 'Brother Athelstan, I bid you adieu.'
    Later that day, just as the bells of St Mary-le-Bow began to toll over the great marketplaces of London,
    Sir John and Athelstan escorted a weeping, pale-faced Kathryn Vestler into the dark coolness of the Lamb of God tavern. Sir John had taken her out of the condemned cell, not even waiting for Whittock's letter of release. Now he sat holding her hand, talking to her quietly, telling her everything that had happened.
    Kathryn had lost her calm poise, her air of resignation had crumbled into bitter sobs. She sipped at a cup of wine, refusing a portion of the beef pie Cranston had also ordered from the kitchens.
    'Mistress Vestler.' Athelstan put his blackjack down. 'Do you still think you are for a hanging? This is a time for celebration!'
    'No, Brother.' Kathryn wiped her eyes. 'This is the time for questions, isn't it? I am sorry, Sir Jack, and you, Brother, for all your trouble.'
    'Why?' Sir John asked. 'Just tell us that, Kathryn,
    'I loved him,' she began. 'God forgive me, Jack, I loved Ralph Hengan more than