The Gallows Murders

paused for effect. ‘Your Grace, I fell into a swoon.'
    Henry crouched down beside me. 'And what happened then?'
    When I awoke the rider had dismounted. He was towering over me, tall, dark, black. Only Your Grace,' I added falteringly, "has ever appeared more fearful to me.' Henry smiled knowingly. I knew I had hit my mark. 'And what did this figure say?' Henry asked.
    ‘I am Herne the Huntsman.' My voice rose. 'His voice was like yours, thunderous and majestic, roaring like the sound of cannon-fire at the height of battle.' 'And how was he dressed?' the King urged.
    'Black as night with a great pair of sweeping antler horns on his head. He carried a bow, so huge only someone like yourself could have stretched it.' 'And what did he say?' someone shouted.
    Henry turned round and glared. Tell me, Shallot.' He scratched my head as if I was a dog. 'I am Herne the Hunter," the figure repeated. "You, Shallot, are a base-born rogue. You have deserved to die for offending the King's greatness. However, I am here to show you great pardon and mercy. You shall not die today."' I paused, swallowing hard. 'Go on!' Henry hissed.
    I glanced up. '"You are to be my most faithful emissary,'' Herne proclaimed. "The servant of my beloved, England's greatest King."' I lowered my voice. ' "You will free him from his present troubles."' Henry was now beaming from ear to ear. 'Continue,' he urged. ‘I am to serve you all your days,' I continued.
    'And did he promise anything?' the Great Beast urged, like a child begging for a sweetmeat.
    'Greatness of days for yourself^ Sire,' I replied. 'A lusty son and a long line. I asked him for a sign,' I whined. 'And?' the Great Beast asked.
    1 "Have I not given you a sign already?" Herne replied. "Did I not rescue you from the sweating sickness in London?"'
    (Oh, a beautiful touch! Will Shakespeare would have loved it, for it brought 'oohs', 'aahs' and knowing nods from Henry's companions.)
    The King squeezed his lower lip between his fat fingers. True, true,' he muttered. ‘I had heard of that. Go on.'
    ' "I shall deliver you from this hunt," Herne promised. "I cannot touch my beloved Henry, but I shall punish those who put this idea into his head. Tell the King that when my punishment is done, the matter is forgotten."' I stared up, my eyes full of tears. 'Your Grace, I just ran on. I seemed to fall into a deep slumber, as if I was in a trance. I could hear the dogs behind me, then I found myself on the outskirts of Windsor and walked back here. I am sorry -' a delicious quaver entered my voice – 'about the death of your hounds.' I stared into the Great Beast's eyes. He continued to squat there, scratching his chin. I could see suspicion but, there again, what could he do? ‘I have also won my wager,' I whispered. Henry got to his feet and pulled me up by the shoulder.
    ‘We saw Herne the Hunter,' he declared. 'As you describe, on the brow of a hill.' He snapped his fingers; one of the huntsmen brought forward three arrows. Henry held them up. 'I have never seen the likes of these before,' he remarked. 'Beautiful, steel-tipped.' He threw them back. 'Norris!' He shouted without turning round. ‘You remember that purse of gold you won from me at gambling last night? Well, now it's Shallot's, give it to him.'
    Red-bearded Norris came forward and sullenly handed the prize over. I guessed he must have been the architect of today's villainy: he put the idea in the King's mind that it would be better to hunt poor old Shallot rather than some old boar who would probably have loved a sprint through the woods. The Beast clapped me on the shoulder. 'Faithful, faithful, faithful Roger.'
    Again I caught the suspicion in his voice, but he then dismissed me and I returned to my chamber. My master took one look at me, hugged me, then pushed me away, studying me from head to toe.
    'Roger, did they hurt you? I heard what happened.' He held his hand up. 'No, don't reply. I'll wait.'
    Benjamin went to the door, shouting for servants to bring buckets of hot water. My master waited until I was soaking under deep, thick suds, a bowl of sack in my hand, before continuing his questioning.
    I told him everything that had happened. Every so often, he'd go and check the door to ensure there was no eavesdropper. Benjamin heard me out and whistled under his breath. "Who was it?' he asked. 'Herne the Hunter as far as I am concerned,' I replied. That's my story, Master, and I am not changing it.'
    Afterwards, feeling