No Law in the Land by Michael Jecks

Author:Michael Jecks [Jecks, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: blt, General, _NB_fixed, Fiction
ISBN: 9781472219886
Google: XTMYAwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2014-02-27T16:43:15+00:00

It was in the midst of her tears that she saw the three men standing and watching. And then, as the people began to depart, she saw them walk towards the vicar: one knight, one monk and another man, with a grim face.

She saw them, but didn’t take notice. Instead she walked to the graveside and peered down with Ant. In her hands she had the hood now, and she took it out, holding it to her face, inhaling his scent as though that would keep him here with her just a little longer. A shred of linen moved aside, and she found herself staring at a small patch of his flesh, just about his cheek. It was the last sight she would have of him.

‘Madam? May we speak with you about your husband?’ she heard, and turned to find the three men nearby. The man who spoke was the grim-faced one. But now, as she looked at him, she saw that there was something else in his eyes, and it made her spark to rage in an instant.

She didn’t want his pity.

Road near Oakhampton

‘You worried about passing through the town again?’

Basil was sitting with one thigh flung over his horse’s withers, picking at a scrap of meat that was wedged between two teeth as he cast a grin at the other men.

Osbert didn’t look at him. There was no need to. He knew all about Basil. He was the sort of weakly creature who’d make fun of those stronger than him when he had men at his back, just to show that he had the greater force with him. Arrogant, foolish, he had grown to manhood with violence all around him. Living rough, as they all had, Basil had never known the gentle comforts of life in a great hall, had never seen the subtle interplay of characters as those with authority negotiated their way around the customs and little delicacies that were so essential to life in a large household. Instead he believed in simple, raw power. And because he was his father’s son, he believed in exercising that power at every possible opportunity.

‘Not scared, no.’

There was plenty to think about. Osbert had been through the messenger’s pouch, looking for the message that should have been there, but there was nothing. It was possible, he knew, that the man had been given a verbal message, but if that was the case, it was so much the better that he was dead. No one would want him to go straight to the king and blurt out something about the offer made to Busse at Tavistock. No, it was probably better this way. And since the monk hadn’t accepted, they’d have to think up some alternative. Sir Robert had more or less hinted that he reckoned that would be the way of things. He expected that they would have to take some other approach to forcing Busse to drop out of the running for the abbacy. He didn’t believe Busse

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