'Sir Hugh speaks the truth,' Gurney confirmed. 'A terrible evil stalks this place. More violent deaths have occurred in the last few months than in living memory. So, go! Disperse to your homes!'

They went. There was some grumbling from hot-heads, but already wiser minds were beginning to prevail. The crowd broke up, the women hustling their children back to their cottages, the men remembering that ploughing and harrowing had to be done. Gilbert was bundled into the saddle of one of the retainer's horses and a taciturn Gurney led them back to the manor house. Just before they entered the gates, he pulled his horse alongside Corbett.

'Hugh, I thank you.'

Corbett looked at him.

'I know what you are thinking,' Gurney said. 'Perhaps I should have shown more force, but these are my people. I held Marina at her baptism.'

Corbett patted him gently on the arm.

'Sir Simon, I'm not your judge,' he said. 'Gilbert may well be guilty and if he is he should hang for that terrible crime. But he may be able to help us. You have dungeons?'

Gurney nodded.

'Then take him to them, but make him comfortable.'

Gurney agreed and they clattered into the yard.

Alice and her maids hurried out and Gurney hastily explained what had happened. Alice led them into the hall and the kitchen boys brought in stoups of ale, bread, cheese and salted bacon. Monck was already sitting before the fire with a heavy-eyed Ranulf and Maltote. He seemed a little calmer than the night before and listened patiently while Corbett described what had happened in the village.

'You will question Gilbert?'

Corbett nodded.

'Good!'

'But shouldn't you do so?' Corbett asked. 'Surely Marina's death is linked to the Pastoureaux? She was a member of their community.'

'No, no.' Monck shook his head and played with the pommel of his dagger. 'You deal with Gilbert.'