‘I assume the rose did have her thorns,’ said Yori sadly.

‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ said Akiko, ‘but I did try to warn –’

‘Quiet back there! Save your babbling for the bailiff!’ growled the chief constable, tugging hard on the rope and making the three of them stumble in the mud.

The bailiff was a mournful-looking man with heavy jowls, bulging eyes, and a pouting lower lip that pushed through his beard like a slimy pale slug. His dress sense was equally sombre. He wore a brown fur-trimmed robe, a padded woollen doublet and a black velvet cap, his gold chain of office being his only concession to adornment. Seated behind a heavy oak table in the town’s draughty market hall, the bailiff regarded the three vagrants before him with glassy disdain.

Jack returned his cold gaze with as much dignity as he could muster. Unfortunately, the forced march into Banbury had left him and his friends looking even worse for wear. Their hair was tangled and knotted with dirt and straw, their already dirty boots were plastered afresh with mud, and their garments were stained and ripped from the countless times they’d fallen along the way. Hungry for want of breakfast, bone-tired from dragging their feet through the muck, they appeared little more than homeless beggars.

A hostile muttering hemmed them in on all sides. Their sorry procession through Banbury’s streets had drawn a crowd, curious to see the two foreigners in their midst, and now half the townsfolk seemed to be crammed into the market hall to get a better look.

‘I hereby open this session of the Hundred Court,’ declared the bailiff, his voice flat and monotonous. ‘The accused stand charged with vagrancy and horse thievery.’ He eyed Jack and his two companions. ‘How do you plead?’

‘Not guilty,’ replied Jack firmly. ‘There’s clearly been a misunderstanding, sir. You see, we’re –’

‘Were you or were you not found in possession of Sir Henry Wilkes’ horses?’ cut in the bailiff.

‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘But –’

‘Then you are horse thieves.’

Jack stared, open-mouthed, at the bailiff. ‘I don’t understand … Sir Henry gave us permission to use his horses.’

‘Not according to this arrest warrant,’ stated the bailiff, studying a piece of parchment lying upon the table. ‘Four of his finest horses were taken yesterday. And his stable boy is dead.’

‘Dead?’ gasped Jack, recalling the young, tawny-haired lad who’d kindly packed their saddlebags with provisions. He exchanged a stunned look with Akiko and Yori.

‘Are you able to shed some light on the matter?’ enquired the bailiff.

Jack blinked in shock. ‘What? You don’t think we had anything to do with it, do you?’

The bailiff’s dour expression hardened. ‘According to this warrant, every finger of the boy’s hands had been broken. He was tortured before he was killed.’

A cry of outrage erupted in the crowd and Jack felt a sickening twist in the pit of his stomach.