The Poisoned Serpent

11

Cristen’s party arrived at the gates of Lincoln as dark was beginning to fall. It had not been a pleasant journey; Cristen had pushed the pace without mercy. Mabel Eliot, the young attendant she had brought along for propriety’s sake, was sagging with exhaustion. And while Thomas had faithfully seen to the safety of his charges, he had adopted a silent, distant manner to convey his disapproval of this outrageous venture he had been forced to join.

To Thomas’s intense annoyance, Cristen hadn’t appeared even to notice his displeasure. Her attention was totally concentrated upon getting to Lincoln as quickly as possible.

One of Thomas’s greatest worries had been that Hugh would not be in Lincoln when Cristen got there. If that should come to pass, where was Thomas going to lodge his lord’s headstrong daughter? He tried to soothe himself with the thought that surely the bishop would have a guest house.

He shuddered at what Nigel would say to him if he allowed his daughter to lodge at a common inn.

As they entered the town through the city gate, Thomas turned to Cristen. “We have arrived, my lady,” he said with grim courtesy. “What do you desire to do next?”

“Find Hugh,” Cristen returned tersely.

“And how do you suggest we go about that?” Thomas inquired, his voice coldly and relentlessly civil. “You don’t know where he is staying.”

“We’ll try the castle first,” Cristen said. “If he’s not there, it’s likely that someone will know where we can find him.”

There was a moment of silence as Thomas regarded the delicate and lovely profile of his liege lady. She looks so fragile, he thought with a mixture of frustration and reluctant admiration. But underneath she’s adamant.

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied at last.

Mabel, who was usually a sunny-natured girl, almost whimpered. “Will we be able to get off our horses soon, my lady?”

“Very soon,” Cristen said.

Thomas bestowed a sympathetic look upon the woebegone Mabel, and she managed a weak smile in return.

The threesome rode on through the town. On either side of the main street, shopkeepers were closing up their stalls, and children home from school were playing games in the side streets. When they entered the Bail, they found it just as busy. It was almost time for the evening service, and various groups of townspeople and castle folk were on their way to the Minster.

Thomas tipped his head and looked up approvingly at the heights of Lincoln Castle towering above them. He nodded in appreciation of the seemingly impregnable defenses posed by the mighty fortress. When at last he returned his gaze to his surroundings, he saw a small party of well-dressed women passing through the gate from the Inner bail. Thomas’s eye was immediately caught by the knight who was escorting the women. He was tall, his uncovered hair was darkly gold, and his mantle was lined with fur.

Thomas turned to Cristen, “Shall I ask that knight yonder if he knows aught of Hugh, my lady?”

“Aye, do that,” she returned crisply.

Thomas dismounted, and leading his tired stallion, went to intercept the knight and his group of ladies.

When he saw that he was being approached, the knight halted and waited for Thomas to reach his side. The woman dressed in a green mantle who had been walking beside him halted also.

Thomas was tall, but the knight was taller, and Thomas had to look up to meet his eyes. They were very blue.

“Excuse me, sir,” Thomas said, “but I wonder if you could tell me where I might find Hugh de Leon.”

“Who wants to know?” the tall, broad-shouldered young man replied. His eyes flicked over Thomas’s horse, a well-built roan.

Thomas made a small gesture in the direction of Cristen and Mabel. “My name is Thomas Mannyng and I am escorting Lady Cristen Haslin of Somerford,” he said. “I am one of Sir Nigel’s household knights.”

“You are from Somerford?” the young knight said with sudden interest. He looked down at the woman in green standing at his side. “Do you mind if I speak to Lady Cristen for a moment, my lady?”

“Of course not,” she replied. “In fact, I will accompany you.” She made a shooing gesture toward the four other ladies in her party, who were waiting at a little distance. “The rest of you can go along to church. Sir Richard and I will join you shortly.”

Thomas spared a glance for the woman in the green hooded mantle, and his mouth dropped open as he beheld her face. He stood for a moment like one who has been poleaxed, and had to hurry to catch up with the two, who were heading toward Cristen and Mabel.

“Lady Cristen,” the tall knight said as he stopped unerringly beside her horse. “I am Richard Canville, son to the sheriff. Hugh has been staying with me and my father in our town house.”

Thomas was overcome by a rush of relief so strong that his knees sagged. What luck that we ran into this fellow, he thought. He could scarcely wait to relinquish the responsibility for Cristen to Hugh.

The girl next to Richard Canville pushed back her hood, revealing a mass of glorious red-gold hair. “And I am Elizabeth de Beauté,” she said.

Good God, Thomas thought in shock. This is the girl Hugh is supposed to marry?

His eyes went to Cristen as she took in the incredibly beautiful face of Elizabeth de Beauté. Her large brown eyes never flickered as she responded calmly, “How do you do, Lady Elizabeth. I am so sorry about your father.”

Thomas felt a flicker of pride. Nothing ever discomposed Lady Cristen.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied.

Richard said in a faintly bewildered voice, “Was Hugh expecting you, my lady?”

Cristen transferred her gaze to the knight. “He didn’t know when I was arriving.”

She might have been discussing the weather, she sounded so unruffled. One was almost tempted to believe that it was perfectly normal for an unmarried young woman, an unmarried noble young woman, to arrive in a strange town, accompanied only by a single escort, in search of a young man to whom she was not related.

“I am afraid he is not in town at the moment,” Richard said, clearly at a loss.

“Isn’t he?” Cristen returned. Not a flicker of dismay showed in her demeanor. “Well then, I shall just have to wait for him.”

Thomas glanced at the shadows quickly lengthening across the ground, and stepped forward. “I wonder if you could recommend a lodging for my lady and her companion, Sir Richard,” he said. “It is growing late and if Lord Hugh is not available to advise us…” He let his voice trail away.

“Good heavens,” Richard said in deep surprise. “Have you no place to stay?”

Cristen shot Thomas a warning look. “I thought to ask for shelter at the bishop’s guest house, Thomas,” she said steadily.

Richard said, “I am afraid that you are not the only one who has come to Lincoln in search of Hugh, my lady. The Earl of Wiltshire arrived here two days ago, and he and his entourage have already taken up residence in the bishop’s guest house.”

Judas, Thomas thought in barely suppressed panic. Now what am I to do? Lord Guy will be enraged if he finds that Cristen has come here without her father.

Cristen continued to look perfectly unruffled.

Thomas said hopefully, “Perhaps you might be able to recommend some other place to us, Sir Richard.”

Elizabeth de Beauté said, “Of course Lady Cristen will stay with me.”

Everyone stared at the slender figure standing next to Richard.

“The sheriff has very graciously given me his apartment in the castle,” Elizabeth informed Cristen. Her voice was clear and bell-like. “There is plenty of room for you and your lady. I should be happy to have your company, Lady Cristen.”

For the first time since they had left Somerford, Thomas saw a trace of unsureness in Cristen.

“I do not wish to discommode you, my lady,” she said. “We will do perfectly well at an inn.”

At this point, Richard earned Thomas’s everlasting gratitude by saying firmly, “An inn is no place for the daughter of Nigel Haslin. I strongly suggest that you accept Lady Elizabeth’s gracious offer. It is already growing dark.”

Thomas stared hard at Cristen, willing her to accept this very generous invitation. She glanced at him and read his thought. He saw her mouth set. She turned back to the young woman who was standing on the ground beside her.

“Thank you, my lady. You are very kind.” Her voice sounded grim rather than relieved.

“Not at all,” Elizabeth said. She, on the other hand, sounded positively gay. “It will be most enjoyable to have a companion of my own age.”

Cristen’s small straight nose quivered.

“I think we can forget evening service for tonight, Sir Richard,” Elizabeth said. “It is more important at the moment to get our guests into shelter before dark.”

As the couple turned to retrace their way back to the Inner bail, Thomas looked at Cristen’s straight back and wondered how she was going to like lodging with Hugh’s betrothed.

Cristen was not pleased with her lodging arrangements, but there didn’t seem to be any alternative. She certainly couldn’t go to the bishop. If Lord Guy found out that she was in Lincoln, he would order her home before she had a chance to see Hugh. And Hugh would be absolutely livid if he found her residing at an inn.

Elizabeth de Beauté, who was so aptly named, was both friendly and efficient as she introduced Cristen to her companion, Lady Sybil, and arranged for Cristen and Mabel to share a bedroom.

After Cristen had washed and changed from her travel-stained riding clothes, she returned to the austere main hall of the sheriff’s apartment to be reunited with her hostess.

Elizabeth gave her a delighted smile.

She could not look more pleased to see me than if I was her long-lost sister, Cristen thought sourly as she returned her hostess’s smile with restraint.

She noted with interest that Richard Canville had remained. He had risen in courtesy as she entered the room and now he informed her, “I must tell you that we expected Hugh back before now, my lady. He went to visit one John Rye, a knight who was serving with the castle guard when Sir Gilbert was killed.”

Cristen took the seat between Lady Elizabeth and Lady Sybil, and Richard returned to his.

“Did you know that Hugh is attempting to prove that Bernard Radvers is innocent of murdering Gilbert de Beauté?” he asked her.

Cristen accepted a cup of wine from a servant and regarded Richard over its rim. “Aye,” she said. “I know.”

“He is wasting his time,” Elizabeth said, and for the first time a hard note sounded in her musical voice. “Bernard Radvers murdered my father. He was found standing over his body with the murder weapon clutched in his hand.”

“So I have heard,” Cristen said mildly.

“Considering all that, I don’t understand why Lord Hugh won’t simply let justice take its course,” Lady Elizabeth complained.

“Hugh has always been loyal to his friends,” Cristen returned. “Bernard is a friend of his and Bernard says he did not murder your father. Hugh believes him.”

Elizabeth’s green eyes shot sparks. “Then Lord Hugh must be very gullible indeed.”

“Hugh is not gullible, my lady,” Richard said. “I have known him since we were children and I can assure you that he is not gullible at all.”

Cristen looked at Richard with more interest than she had shown heretofore. “You knew Hugh when he lived in Lincoln?”

“Hugh and I have known each other since we were ten years old,” Richard replied.

Cristen looked at him thoughtfully and sipped her wine.

“I wonder what urgent matter can have brought you to Lincoln so precipitously?” Elizabeth asked guilelessly.

Cristen ignored her comment and said to Richard, “How long has Hugh been gone?”

Richard’s blue eyes narrowed with thought. “It must be four days now. John Rye’s manor of Linsay is only a few miles to the north of here, so I assume that either he wasn’t there and Hugh is waiting for him, or he has gone in search of him.” He gave her a charmingly rueful smile. “Hugh has not seen fit to communicate with us, so I cannot tell you for certain.”

Cristen knew that Hugh was all right even though she didn’t know where he was. She nodded calmly.

A tiny silence fell, broken by Lady Sybil. “Wasn’t your father the one who first discovered that Hugh Corbaille was in reality the lost heir of the de Leons?” she asked Cristen eagerly.

“He was,” Cristen replied.

“What an exciting story that is!” Elizabeth’s companion gushed. “A jongleur could make a wonderful chanson de geste from it.”

Cristen thought of all the anguish Hugh had gone through when he had finally accepted his true identity, and found that she could not reply.

Elizabeth decided on direct tactics to get the information she wanted. “But why have you come to Lincoln in search of Hugh, Lady Cristen? Surely your father should have accompanied you!”

Cristen’s eyebrows were fine aloof arches over her astonished eyes. “I beg your pardon?” she said.

Color stained Elizabeth’s cheeks and her green eyes glittered. “I was merely wondering what you are doing in Lincoln,” she snapped.

“I have come to see Hugh,” Cristen replied.

Elizabeth stared at her. Cristen gazed steadily back.

“Does Lord Guy know that you are here?” Elizabeth asked shrewdly. “He is your overlord, is he not?”

“I did not have time to communicate with Lord Guy before I left Somerford,” Cristen said. She took another sip of her wine.

Richard said with faint amusement, “If you like, my lady, I will send someone to Linsay tomorrow to tell Hugh that you have arrived.”

For the first time since she had entered Lincoln, Cristen gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, Sir Richard. I should appreciate that.”

His return smile was utterly beguiling. “Not at all, Lady Cristen,” he replied. “It makes me happy to be able to serve you.”

Late the following morning, Alan Stanham rode out of Lincoln, his destination the manor of Linsay. Richard had entrusted his squire with a horse and the mission of delivering a message to Hugh de Leon if Hugh was at Linsay.

Alan was thrilled. This was the first time he had been given such an important task, and he felt it was a sign of Richard’s faith in him.

To trust him with a horse!

To let him go by himself!

Alan was wrapped in pleasant fantasies of his future as a knight for almost the entire ride. It wasn’t until he reached the village of Kestven that he actually awoke from his daydreams and took stock of his surroundings. He got directions to the manor of Linsay and started on the last lap of his journey.

A half a mile outside of Kestven, he ran into Hugh. Alan halted his horse on the pathway and waited for Rufus to come up to him.

“Lord Hugh,” he said a little breathlessly. “I am so glad that I have found you!”

Hugh’s straight black brows were drawn together as he regarded Richard’s squire. “Why are you looking for me?”

“Sir Richard sent me, my lord. I am to tell you that Lady Cristen Haslin has arrived in Lincoln and she desires to see you.”

A light flared in Hugh’s eyes. “Cristen is in Lincoln?”

“Aye, my lord. She arrived late yesterday. And Lord Guy of Wiltshire is in Lincoln as well. He arrived in Lincoln two days before Lady Cristen.”

Hugh began to laugh.

Alan regarded him in amazement. There was a flush of color across his high cheekbones and his gray eyes glittered between their black lashes. “Is Guy looking for me as well?” he asked the squire with genuine amusement.

“Aye, my lord, I believe he is.”

Hugh gestured that they should move forward, and Alan turned his horse to accompany Hugh.

“Where are Sir Nigel and his daughter staying?” Hugh asked. “In the bishop’s guest house?”

“Er…Sir Nigel did not accompany Lady Cristen, my lord,” Alan replied a little nervously.

Silence.

“She came alone?” Hugh asked. His voice sounded ominous.

“She was escorted by one knight, my lord. And she brought a lady companion.”

Hugh swore.

“She is perfectly all right, my lord,” Alan hastened to assure him. “She is staying in the castle with Lady Elizabeth de Beauté.”

The face Hugh turned to Alan registered complete disbelief.

“She couldn’t stay at the bishop’s guest house, my lord,” Alan babbled on. “Lord Guy is there, you see.”

Hugh’s incredulous look did not fade. “Guy is in the bishop’s guest house and Cristen is in the castle,” he repeated.

“Aye, my lord.”

Hugh shook his head.

“I can’t wait to get back to Lincoln,” he said.

Alan did not know if he was being ironic or not.