'She's been raped!' Selditch said as they knelt beside her. 'Look at the bruises on her thighs.'

Corbett glanced fleetingly, then turned his attention to the thin rope tight around the girl's neck. He used his knife to cut it loose. He brushed back the girl's long, lustrous, black hair with a gentle hand and stared pityingly at the pathetic face, mottled and bruised, a trickle of dried blood at the corner of the half-open mouth. The eyes were wide open, staring blindly into the gorse. Corbett looked over his shoulder at Master Joseph, who was staring, pallid-faced, down at the corpse.

'This is Marina, isn't it?'

Master Joseph nodded.

'Then God help her!' Corbett whispered. He forced the girl's eyes shut and pulled down the long robe to cover her nakedness.

Ranulf, standing behind him, said sadly, 'She must have been beautiful.'

'Aye,' Corbett replied. 'A terrible death for a lovely girl. Sir Simon, she has to be moved.'

Gurney nodded. Telling Thomas the huntsman to control the horses, which were becoming nervous at the smell of death, he walked over and knelt beside the girl. He turned her face towards him.

'About sixteen summers old,' he murmured. 'I remember her baptism. Her father, Fulke, will be beside himself with grief.'

Father Augustine, whose sorry nag had found it difficult to keep up with the rest, finally arrived. He dismounted, studied the corpse and swallowed hard. He pushed the cowl of his robe back, knelt down and whispered absolution into the girl's ear, sketching a blessing above her. He got to his feet, wiping the wetness off his robe.