The church was quiet now. A long trestle table had been placed in the nave. Six men sat on either side of it. At the far end Gurney sat enthroned in the heavily ornate sanctuary chair, which had been moved from beneath the rood screen. At the near end Father Augustine, who also served as parish clerk, had laid out parchment, inkhorn and pumice stone ready to record the proceedings. Behind Gurney stood a forbidding-looking Catchpole, Giles Selditch and Master Joseph. Villagers squatted on the ground around the table. Gurney waved Corbett forward, indicating a stool on his right.

'Sir Hugh, you will be my witness to the proceedings.'

Gurney got to his feet and formally pronounced the court to be in session.

Corbett watched fascinated. He had often acted as a royal justice or commissioner, but he had never seen a serious matter dealt with in a manor court.

'The death we are here to enquire into,' Gurney began, 'is that of Marina, daughter of Fulke the tanner, who was barbarously murdered out in the moorlands. She had been raped and strangled' – he raised his hands to still the clamour – 'by a person or persons unknown. Now,' he continued hurriedly, 'you know the ancient customs and usages. First, the death may be recorded. Secondly, if enough information is brought, a person or persons may be indicted.' His voice rose. 'If the latter is the case, then such a person or persons must be arrested and given fair trial before their peers at the next assize.'

A low chorus of protests greeted his words. Gurney wiped his hands nervously on the edge of his gown. He looked down the line of jurors on either side of the table, staring hard at Robert the reeve.

'You have all sworn the oath on the book of the gospels.' He pointed to the heavy tome on the table. 'Anyone who wishes to give evidence must swear on the gospels. I need not remind you that perjury can be a capital offence.'