A Dead Man's secret

Thirteen

Geoffrey left the church pleased with his progress. He had identified William’s secret and delivered all the King’s letters, except Sear’s. He also knew what he was going to write in his report about the warring churchmen. Moreover, the germ of a solution had begun to grow regarding William’s murder: he was fairly sure he knew who had committed the crime. The answer to one question would tell him for certain, and he intended to ask it immediately.

There was an apothecary’s shop near the church, but it was closed. Geoffrey waited outside, thinking that it was mid-morning, late for merchants to open. He was about to give up when the owner arrived, rubbing his hands together in greedy anticipation when he saw a customer waiting.

‘I am unusually late, because of the news,’ he explained as he unlocked the door. ‘So please forgive my tardiness.’

‘What news?’ asked Geoffrey.

‘Richard fitz Baldwin’s home was attacked last night. He escaped harm, but fled the town, saying he is not going to wait here for another attempt on his life. At first, folk said it was his own soldiers who staged the assault – he is not popular – but two of them were killed in the incident.’

‘Killed by Richard?’

‘Killed by whoever broke into his home with knives and crossbows. From what I gather, it was fortunate more were not slaughtered, although word is that they were aiming for Richard, not his minions.’

‘Was Leah harmed?’ asked Geoffrey, concerned.

The apothecary lowered his voice confidentially. ‘It pains me to say something nice about such a rank villain, but Richard does love his wife. He protected her bravely last night, then gave her to Abbot Ywain this morning, hoping she will be safe inside a holy place.’

‘Where has Richard gone?’

The apothecary waved his hand. ‘The forests that surround us will keep a man hidden for as long as he pleases, and the marshes are lonely and abandoned. He might have gone anywhere. Personally I hope he stays away, because he is not good for Kermerdyn with his brutality and pent-up fury. It is a pity he is not like his brother.’

Geoffrey asked the apothecary his question. When he had the answer, he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what had happened to William. He thanked the man and retraced his steps to the abbey. The monks were in their chapel, praying for Mabon, but Leah was sitting on the wall where Geoffrey and Ywain had talked earlier. Her eyes were red, and she was pale and wan.

‘You heard what happened?’ she whispered when Geoffrey approached. Tears began to fall. ‘Men broke into our home, and would have killed us if Richard had not fought like the Devil. Now he has fled, and I am left here in the hope that Abbot Ywain can protect me.’

‘I doubt anyone will harm you,’ said Geoffrey gently.

‘I was worried about our travelling companions, too,’ sobbed Leah. Geoffrey perched next to her. ‘So I sent our apprentices to find out whether they were attacked. Gwgan was ambushed as he walked home last night, but everyone else is safe, thank God.’

‘Gwgan fought them off?’

‘He had just dispatched a unit of men to hunt for the outlaws, but, luckily, they heard the clash of arms and galloped back. The villains escaped, though; Gwgan said they knew the area.’

Geoffrey was thoughtful. He had delivered royal letters to Gwgan and Richard. Could it be that the ambushes since Brechene were aimed at them? He wondered whether Sear would become a target when given his letter. But such ponderings would have to wait. He turned to Leah.

‘I did not come here to talk about ambushes,’ he said. ‘I came to ask why you killed William.’

There was silence, and Geoffrey was aware of chaffinches twittering as they squabbled for the crumbs that had been brushed outside the kitchen door. He could hear the river, too, a soft gurgle as it flowed towards the sea. It was peaceful and idyllic, and it was difficult to believe he was sitting next to a poisoner.

Leah gaped at him. ‘But I am one of few people who could not have killed William: I was ill in bed when he died. Anyone will confirm my tale and tell you that my ailment was genuine, because I have never fully recovered my health.’

‘No,’ agreed Geoffrey. ‘But that is because you were either careless with what is a very potent substance or unsure how to use it. You put it in the butter that your husband brought for his brother from Pulchria, but you did not need to be present when your victim ate it.’

‘What are you saying?’ cried Leah in horror. ‘These are terrible accusations!’

‘I am saying that I allowed myself to be misled by your alibi. Your whereabouts when William became ill and died are irrelevant – the poison could have been sent ages before he actually consumed it. But I imagine you did select Cornald’s butter as the way to get rid of him. And it was a perfect choice – a lot of people had access to it.’

‘Yes, they did,’ said Leah, white with shock. ‘It was a gift from Pulchria, and she is a much more likely candidate for murder than me – she was terribly bitter when William rejected her. And you know for a fact that she dislikes being repelled, because she threatened you, too.’

‘She did, but it was all hot air. Besides, she thought Joan kept wolf-tooth for killing rats, but it is never used for that purpose. Her knowledge of poisons is deficient. I know she did not kill Mabon for the same reason.’

‘But Cornald’s knowledge is not deficient,’ said Leah. ‘And he made the butter.’

‘Cornald has an aversion to wolf-tooth and would not have used it. I know he is telling the truth, because of the rash he developed after touching the phial that killed Mabon. Besides, he has been Joan’s friend for years, and I trust her judgement.’

‘Then what about Delwyn?’ asked Leah desperately. ‘Or Bishop Wilfred? Both were lurking in the kitchen where the butter was stored.’

‘Neither would have risked meddling with poisons while the other was there – abbey and Bishop hate each other, and any suspicious behaviour would have been exposed with glee.’

‘But there are others,’ insisted Leah. ‘Sear-’

‘Sear’s grief was genuine. He did not kill his friend. The same goes for Richard.’

‘Hywel and Gwgan had access to Rhydygors, too. And Hywel inherited the castle…’

‘Hywel could not have known seven years ago that he would be awarded Rhydygors for fighting Belleme on the Marches. And Gwgan has learned enough about poisons from Isabella not to inflict a lingering death on his victim. If he had been the killer, he would have used something quicker. He was appalled by William’s suffering.’

‘But there were servants…’

‘Yes, the list of suspects is enormous,’ acknowledged Geoffrey. ‘And you must have been delighted by the way events unfolded, with everyone accusing everyone else. The only problem was that you were affected by the poison, too, and almost lost your life over it. Of course, it did mean you were the last person anyone would ever suspect.’

‘That is because I am innocent,’ protested Leah.

‘William told Delwyn that he had been killed by a dear friend. I imagine he considered you – the wife of his beloved brother – a dear friend.’

‘Well, yes, he did, but why would I kill a man everyone loved? Besides, Richard was heartbroken when William died.’

‘Yes, he did love his brother. Perhaps more than you realized, because I doubt you intended to cause him so much pain. You killed William because you knew that, as long as he lived, Richard would never have anything. William was the better man in all respects-’

‘No!’ cried Leah. ‘William was never the better man! His sickly saintliness was ridiculous, and I hated the way everyone kept comparing the two and finding Richard lacking. It was unfair.’

She flushed in horror when she saw her outburst was effectively an admission of guilt. Then she closed her eyes and slumped in defeat. ‘All right. How did you guess?’

‘The apothecary has just told me that you regularly buy herbs to make remedies for the headaches that plague you. About the time William died, you started using wolf-tooth. It is beneficial in small quantities, and you have no doubt learned to use it properly since. But seven years ago, you shoved some in William’s butter and subjected him to a terrible death.’

‘You cannot prove it,’ said Leah, with a spark of defiance. ‘So what if I buy wolf-tooth? You cannot prove it was my supply that killed him – or even that he was poisoned at all. If you dig him up, he will be nothing but bones and dust. And people will never believe what you are saying. They all think I am too feeble.’

‘You are not feeble,’ said Geoffrey. ‘You are kin to Robert de Belleme, the great tyrant. I guessed the first time we met that there was more to you than you let anyone see, and I was right. Did you poison Mabon, too?’

‘No,’ said Leah firmly. ‘You will probably accuse me of it, because some of my wolf-tooth did go missing at Goodrich, but I swear to you, on Richard’s life, that I did not kill Mabon.’

Geoffrey recalled Father Adrian’s testimony – that Leah, Richard and Edward had sought absolution the morning Mabon had died, and murder had not been among the sins they had confessed. Moreover, Leah would not risk the life of the man she loved by swearing lies on it. Reluctantly, he accepted that she was not the culprit, although he was not about to say so.

‘Why did you not mention this theft immediately?’ he demanded.

‘Because you might have accused me of the crime,’ said Leah. ‘It was safer to say nothing.’

‘Was any other toxin missing?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Or just wolf-tooth?’

‘I do not have any other toxins,’ Leah snapped. ‘Wolf-tooth is not a poison anyway. It is-’

‘Who took it?’

‘It might have been anyone staying at your nasty little castle,’ she hissed, voice full of spite. ‘Gwgan, perhaps; you have just said that he knows all about fast-acting poisons.’

‘Gwgan had no reason to kill Mabon. Indeed, I imagine he would rather Mabon was alive, because he was a strong man, who would have kept the abbey Welsh. Ywain is not his equal and will be unable to keep it from being overrun by Normans.’

‘Then it was someone else,’ she snarled. ‘Including your wife and sister, so do not think you can level accusations at me without them being dragged into the matter. If you charge me publicly, I will see they will suffer, too.’

Geoffrey regarded her contemptuously. ‘You would harm the innocent to save yourself?’

Leah returned his glare in kind. ‘Yes, if you leave me no other choice. I did do a wicked thing seven years ago, but I have paid the price by not being well since. And I did not mean to kill William, anyway.’

‘No?’ asked Geoffrey coldly. ‘What then?’

‘I meant to make him ill, to shake him from his smug conviction that he was touched by God. I thought a fright might instil some humility into him. But he died, and Richard did not inherit-’

‘And there is your real motive,’ pounced Geoffrey. ‘You wanted Richard in Rhydygors, taking William’s place.’

‘No!’ cried Leah. ‘Well, yes. I suppose so. I did it for Richard, because I thought he would be happier if his brother was not so saintly. There is no reason for you to believe me, but murder was not my intention. I was young and foolish, and blinded by love for an unhappy man.’

‘What will he say when he learns what you have done?’

‘He will never know,’ said Leah. There was something cold and hard in her eyes that was definitely redolent of Belleme. ‘Because I will not tell him, and neither will you. If you do, you will be more sorry than you can imagine.’

Geoffrey took his leave of Leah, stopping only to ask Ywain to make sure she did not leave the abbey. He was not sure what to do about her and decided to ask Hilde’s opinion. Roger would doubtless recommend hanging her, but Hilde would offer sensible advice.

When he arrived at the inn, he found Roger surrounded by townsfolk as he regaled them with lies about the Crusade. His face was flushed from the amount of ale he had consumed, and he shook his head at Geoffrey to say that he did not want to be interrupted. Geoffrey went to the stable, collected his horse and set out towards Rhydygors.

But when he reached the castle, he was told that Hilde had gone out with Isabella to buy raisins. Laughingly, Prince Hywel informed Geoffrey that he would be unlikely to see his wife before sunset.

‘And do not even think of trying to hunt her down,’ he added. ‘It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

Geoffrey nodded, although his attention was taken by Gwgan, who had the entire garrison assembled in the bailey. They wore travelling packs and were being issued with enough rations to suggest they might be gone for some time. Clearly, Hywel was taking seriously the presence of outlaws in his domain and was doing all he could to round them up.

‘I heard Gwgan was ambushed last night,’ said Geoffrey.

‘We are fortunate our men heard the clash of weapons and raced back to help him,’ said Hywel grimly. ‘There is no question that he would have been killed otherwise, and I would have lost my trusted counsellor and most beloved friend.’

‘Richard was attacked last night, too, and has fled the town.’

Hywel shook his head slowly. ‘These villains are bold and reckless to stage an assault within sight of the castle. Gwgan recommended that we send every available man out to track them, and he is right. My only regret is that pressing business will keep me here until tomorrow.’

‘But then you will go?’ asked Geoffrey.

‘At first light,’ said Hywel. He smiled. ‘And any knight who would like to join me will be welcome. Especially one who speaks Welsh.’

Geoffrey nodded agreement. ‘But is it wise to send all your soldiers? You will not consider keeping some in reserve, lest the town is attacked again?’

It was not his place to question the tactics of another commander, especially one who was the ruler of vast tracts of land, but the questions were out before he could stop himself.

Fortunately, Hywel did not seem to mind. ‘Richard’s men can defend the town, and Gwgan’s personal guard are more than capable of manning the castle. We have no choice, anyway: what would my people say if I sat safe and secure in Rhydygors, while they cannot ride my highways unmolested?’

Geoffrey made no reply, although his soldier’s instincts warned him that Hywel’s plan was not a good one. He wondered whether he should take Hilde somewhere else. But where?

‘Stay here with Hilde tonight,’ said Hywel, reading his mind. ‘She will be safe enough, but I can see you would prefer to see to her well-being yourself.’

‘You will not be here?’ asked Geoffrey.

‘I am dining with Gwgan in his home.’ Hywel waved his hand towards the nearby hamlet, its rooftops just visible through the trees. ‘There is much to discuss after his visit to Gloucester, but we have no peace here. We will work twice as quickly in his house, and then nothing will stop me riding out after these outlaws tomorrow.’

Geoffrey had two more letters to hand over before his delivery duties were complete, and he decided to be rid of them as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Sear had taken his Pembroc soldiers to hunt for the outlaws and was not expected back until evening. Robert the steward was at work in an office, though, and snatched the letter eagerly when it was presented.

‘It is all about Maurice’s new cathedral,’ he cried in disappointment. ‘I thought it would be something useful – something I could use to avert the trouble I sense is brewing.’

‘What trouble?’ asked Geoffrey.

‘The trouble that started the moment you and your companions rode into our town with tales of outlaws. It was peaceful when Sear and Richard were away, but the instant they return, we are thrown into turmoil.’

‘Bishop Maurice merely heard I was travelling west and used the opportunity to write to distant kin,’ said Geoffrey. ‘He knows nothing of-’

‘I do not like the fact that Richard has disappeared,’ interrupted Robert. ‘It bodes ill.’

‘You cannot blame him for not wanting to be in a place where he is in danger,’ said Geoffrey. ‘We were ambushed nine times between here and Brechene, and he might have been the target.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said Robert, ‘I sense evil in the air.’

‘Oh,’ said Geoffrey, unsure what to make of such a claim. ‘Perhaps you should see a priest.’

‘They cannot help,’ said Robert scornfully. ‘The kind of wickedness I sense is the earthly kind, which can only be defeated by stout men with swords. You look sceptical, but I have a talent for predicting this kind of misfortune. It runs in the family – just ask Maurice.’

‘He does claim an ability to sense evil,’ acknowledged Geoffrey, recalling Maurice’s unhappiness over Henry’s letters and the way he had rubbed them and blessed them.

‘Well, so do I,’ said Robert. ‘And I sense it now, with every fibre of my being.’

Geoffrey regarded him uncertainly. ‘Then tell Gwgan or Hywel.’

‘I have, but they will not listen. But I know Richard is up to something. There was a cant to his eyes when he reported the attack this morning, and he took all his men with him when he left Kermerdyn. Something is badly wrong, and you must stop it.’

‘Me?’ asked Geoffrey, startled. ‘How? I am a stranger to the area.’

‘That does not matter,’ cried Robert, agitated. ‘You must try.’

‘It might help if you were more specific-’

‘I cannot be more specific!’ snapped Robert. ‘I only know that you must be on your guard, and you must protect others who are not in a position to do so themselves.’

‘Do you mean my wife?’ asked Geoffrey in alarm, wondering whether he should ignore Hywel’s advice and try to find her.

‘I do not know what I mean!’ shouted Robert in frustration. ‘You will just have to use your imagination. Maurice writes that you are intelligent, so use the wits God gave you.’

It was hardly helpful advice, and Geoffrey left him in a troubled frame of mind.

The first thing Geoffrey wanted to do was to warn Roger to be on his guard. The next was to find Hilde. He collected his horse and was about to ride back to Kermerdyn when he saw Gwgan. The counsellor’s face was pale and worried.

‘We must catch these villains,’ he said, when Geoffrey reined in next to him. ‘They attacked Richard, as well as me, last night, and it is not to be countenanced. Not in Hywel’s domain.’

‘It is unwise to leave the castle so depleted of soldiers,’ said Geoffrey, knowing Gwgan would not object to him speaking his mind. ‘Robert is right: something untoward is afoot.’

Gwgan groaned. ‘Robert and his stupid premonitions! I did not expect you to be unsettled by his ravings, though – I had taken you for a steady man. Our steward is a silly old woman; I do not know why Hywel does not replace him.’

‘Perhaps so, but it is unwise to take Hywel away from the castle tonight,’ persisted Geoffrey. ‘He might be needed to defend it. And so might you.’

‘My house is not far,’ said Gwgan impatiently. ‘We can be back in moments, should the need arise – which it will not. But there is daylight left, and I intend to use it. My guards and I will scour the marshes until dusk. Will you come with us? Another pair of eyes would be useful.’

‘My first duty is to Hilde and Roger, but I will ride with you and Hywel tomorrow.’

‘The best way to protect your wife and friend is to help me today,’ said Gwgan. ‘Besides, you will never find Hilde if Isabella has taken her shopping.’

‘I will not rest easy until I try,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I will ride after you later.’

Gwgan nodded his thanks and climbed on to a Welsh pony. He raised his hand to indicate he was ready, then trotted out of the bailey with his men at his heels. Geoffrey followed and was almost at the gate when Edward entered, flopping about on his nag like a sack of grain.

‘Something nasty is happening in this town,’ he declared without preamble. ‘If I were you, I would leave. Take Hilde with you. She is too fine a person to be caught up in anything foul.’

‘She is shopping,’ said Geoffrey, alarmed. ‘And I am told she will not be found.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Edward. ‘They will be in Pedrog’s warehouse on the wharf. All women go there around noon, because that is when Pedrog exhibits his newest wares.’

‘Thank you,’ said Geoffrey gratefully. ‘What will you do?’

‘My men arrived this morning from Brechene – minus the six or so who died from the contagion. They made better time than us, probably because they were not hindered by women. I intend to take them and leave Kermerdyn.’

‘You will ride away when Hywel might need your assistance?’ asked Geoffrey, shocked.

‘He has plenty of good men, and this threat may extend to Kadweli. I am duty-bound to return there with all possible speed. I repeat: collect your wife and your loutish friend and leave while you can.’

Geoffrey nodded. It was sound advice, and he fully intended to spirit Roger and Hilde to safety. Then he would return to Kermerdyn and help Hywel, as he had promised. Sear’s letter could be delivered at the same time, and if Henry was piqued that his missive was not in his henchman’s hands soon enough, then that was too bad.

It was not difficult to locate Pedrog’s warehouse, because it was the building that had a steady stream of women walking in and out. Inside, Geoffrey was immediately aware of the musty scent of imported cloth, spices and other exotic goods. He found Hilde cooing over a stall filled with different kinds of raisins, Isabella standing smugly behind her.

‘We have to go,’ said Geoffrey, grabbing Hilde’s hand and pulling her towards the door.

‘No!’ exclaimed Isabella in dismay. ‘We have not explored the silks yet.’

Once again, Geoffrey gave thanks for his choice of wife when Hilde took one look at him and followed without demur, dragging her sister along.

‘What is wrong?’ she asked as they walked briskly towards the Trout. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Anywhere but here,’ said Geoffrey. ‘It is not safe.’

‘I have enough money with me to keep us for a week,’ said Hilde. ‘We can send for our belongings later. Should Isabella come with us?’

‘Yes,’ said Geoffrey. He felt something akin to love for Hilde at that moment – she did not regale him with questions, but rather turned her considerable intelligence to deciding how best to help him. Isabella, however, was far more vocal, and Geoffrey saw she was going to be a problem.

‘I am not going anywhere until you explain what is happening,’ she declared. ‘This is my home and… Oh, look! There is Sir Sear. That is odd! He told my husband he was going to hunt for outlaws.’

‘He is going into the Trout,’ said Hilde worriedly. ‘Roger was well on the way to being drunk there not long ago. I hope they do not fight.’

Geoffrey abandoned the women and his horse and ran towards the inn. He flung open the door and found the main room almost empty, its regulars driven away by Roger’s tales – enjoyable and even believable at first, but degenerating into absurdity as the ale flowed. Bale was still there, lying on a bench with his mouth open, and Roger was slumped across a table. Sear was leaning over him. Geoffrey hurtled forward and shoved the older knight away.

‘Easy!’ yelled Sear angrily, staggering. ‘I was only making sure he was not dead. He does not usually drink himself into unconsciousness, and I was concerned.’

Hand on the hilt of his dagger, Geoffrey felt for a life-beat in Roger’s neck. It was strong, but sluggish. He crossed to Bale and did the same, although the squire stirred at his touch and opened bleary eyes.

‘God’s nails!’ Bale swore, struggling to sit. ‘That last brew was potent! I only had a gulp, and it made me reel like a virgin. That Richard certainly knows his claret!’

Geoffrey stared at him. ‘Richard sent you claret?’

Bale waved a hand, the gesture almost unseating him. ‘It is on the table. Richard’s message said it was for both of you, and I doubt Sir Roger has finished it. I will fetch you a clean cup.’

He tried to stand but slumped back down again, holding his head in his hands and moaning. Sear released one of his harsh brays of laughter.

‘They are both drunk! I heard men gossiping in the street that they had been at the ale since dawn, and the claret proved too much for them. I hope they have not drunk the place dry, because I have been out doing a man’s work and I am thirsty.’

‘They are not drunk,’ said Geoffrey, his stomach churning as he darted to the table and grabbed the jug. Was it Leah’s doing, in revenge for his discovery of her dark secret? She had threatened to make him sorry, but he had not anticipated she would strike quite so soon.

The door opened, and the taverner arrived. Behind him was the apothecary Geoffrey had spoken to that morning. Hilde and Isabella crowded in behind them.

‘There you are,’ said the taverner, relieved. ‘Good. When your friend flopped across the table and resisted my attempts to wake him, I thought I had better fetch help, but I am glad you are here, because you can put him to bed. He is a too heavy for me to haul upstairs.’

The apothecary examined Roger briefly, then turned his attention to the wine jug Geoffrey shoved into his hands, first sniffing cautiously at its contents and then taking a tentative sip.

‘Something has been added,’ he announced. ‘A soporific. And from the flavour, I would say it is the one I prescribe for over-feisty horses.’

‘Have you sold any to Leah recently?’ asked Geoffrey, watching Hilde manoeuvre Roger into a position where he would not choke.

‘Not Leah,’ replied the apothecary, going to Bale and assessing him, too. ‘But Richard was having trouble with a nag last night and came to me for the remedy. This was before he was attacked, of course. Surely, you cannot suspect he had anything to do with this?’

‘The wine came from him,’ insisted Bale, finally managing to stand. ‘Ask the landlord.’

‘It is true,’ agreed the landlord. ‘Richard delivered it last night. He ordered me to give it to you at noon and to make sure you both enjoyed it. I thought it was an odd request – he is not usually a generous man – but I did as I was told.’

‘You should have refused,’ said the apothecary sternly. ‘Any fool could see the instruction was sinister, and now we have two men poisoned. But do not worry, Sir Geoffrey. Your friend has not swallowed enough of it to be dangerous, and your squire is already rallying. They will both be recovered tomorrow.’

‘I knew Richard did not like you,’ said Sear wonderingly. ‘But I did not think he would stoop to poison. It is a shameful way to eliminate enemies, even for a villain like him.’

Geoffrey was in an agony of guilt. It was his fault Roger was laid low. He had brought his friend to Kermerdyn, knowing Henry’s mission was dangerous, and first Roger was shot and now he was poisoned. He wished with all his heart that he had left him and Hilde at Goodrich.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Sear with professional interest. ‘Hunt Richard down and challenge him to fight? I would, in your position. He will cheat, though, so watch him.’

‘No,’ said Hilde urgently, grabbing Geoffrey’s arm. ‘Think! There is something odd about this whole business. Richard wanted you incapacitated at a specific time. Why? It all reeks of intrigue, and you should stay here until you understand what is happening.’

‘Actually, that is good advice,’ said Sear soberly. ‘Heed her, Geoffrey.’

Geoffrey decided he would make up his own mind what to do about Richard, although he stayed long enough to help Bale carry Roger to the chamber upstairs, where they saw him comfortably installed. The apothecary assured him again that his friend would make a complete recovery, and Hilde settled at the bedside to monitor him for as long as was necessary. Isabella had disappeared, but returned not long afterwards with three burly men who, she said, hired their services to anyone needing stalwart guards.

‘They have repelled Richard before,’ she said. ‘They do not like him.’

‘Good,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Because they will protect you, Hilde and Roger tonight. They will be paid double what you offered if they succeed, but if they fail, I will hunt them out and kill them.’

The men met his gaze steadily as they nodded agreement to his terms. It was a reassuring reaction, but he would not be easy in his mind until he had tackled Richard and was back in the tavern watching over his wife and friend.

‘You plan to challenge him?’ asked Hilde in alarm, as Geoffrey grabbed his helmet and buckled on the heavier of his two swords. He also tucked an extra dagger in his boot.

‘Yes,’ said Geoffrey shortly. ‘Keep the door locked, and do not answer it to anyone.’

Sear was still in the main chamber when Geoffrey stalked through it. The older knight was about to make a quip about Roger’s stupidity in imbibing wine sent from such a dangerous man, but stopped when he saw the expression on Geoffrey’s face.

‘The King ordered me to give you this when we arrived in Kermerdyn,’ said Geoffrey, handing him the last letter. ‘Do not ask why he told me to wait, because I do not know.’

He strode into the yard and yelled to one of the taverner’s sons to fetch his horse. The lad started to roll his eyes – Hilde had ordered him to unsaddle and stable it only moments before – but a hard stare sent him scurrying off to oblige. Geoffrey was aware that Sear had followed him outside and had broken the seal of his letter to gaze uncomprehendingly at the words.

‘Damn!’ he muttered. ‘Henry probably sent this because I told him he would not be getting such high taxes from Pembroc in the future. I thought reprisal would not be long in coming.’

‘That is what happens when you serve a master who loves money above all else,’ said Geoffrey, angry enough with Richard to speak recklessly.

‘Henry is a good man,’ declared Sear hotly.

‘Right,’ said Geoffrey, controlling his temper; it would be foolish to waste time and energy arguing with Sear.

‘My clerks made an error in their calculations,’ Sear went on, apparently feeling an explanation was in order. ‘It resulted in people being charged too much, and I could not, in all conscience, let it continue. I went to tell him what had happened.’

Geoffrey did not reply. He was wondering where to begin his hunt for Richard.

Sear cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘Will you read it to me? I would rather not take it to the abbey, because they do not like me and will probably make me wait until morning.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey. The King’s letters had caused him enough trouble already.

‘Damn it, man! Will you make me beg?’ Then Sear’s face took on a cunning expression. ‘Or shall we make a bargain? You read me the letter, and I will tell you where Richard is likely to be hiding.’

‘Where?’

‘Do we have an agreement?’

Geoffrey nodded impatiently.

‘There is an abandoned village about two miles south of Rhydygors,’ began Sear. ‘You cannot miss it if you follow the river path. It is where he and Leah courted, so it has special significance for him. Now read me the letter.’

Geoffrey took it from him and scanned it quickly. It was short, blunt, and its tone was cold and unfriendly. He handed it back. ‘You will not want to hear this, and I have no time to accept challenges from you. Ask Bishop Wilfred. He will not make you wait.’

‘No, tell me,’ said Sear softly. ‘I have been expecting something dire ever since I saw the flash in Henry’s eyes when I explained about the taxes, and I feared his continued affection for me was a sham. Read it, Geoffrey. I swear we will not come to blows.’

‘You are dismissed from Pembroc Castle and ordered to hand over command to someone called Gerald of Windsor.’

‘Gerald of Windsor,’ mused Sear. ‘A ruthless, greedy man who will have every last penny out of the hapless souls at Pembroc. Is that all?’

‘No. As you are in Kermerdyn and have troops here, you are ordered to put them and yourself under Richard’s authority and do whatever he says.’

‘You lie!’ yelled Sear, whipping out his sword.

Geoffrey drew his own weapon, finding he was more than ready to fight a man he had never liked. It would limber him up for when he met Richard. But it was not Geoffrey who was at the end of Sear’s blade, but Cornald, who had just entered the yard and walked towards them.

‘It is true!’ squeaked Cornald. ‘I swear!’

He tried to back away, but Sear clutched a handful of his tunic and gripped him so his feet barely touched the ground. Cornald was holding a purple glove that Geoffrey recognized as Edward’s. Bemused, Geoffrey looked from one to the other, wondering what was happening.

‘If you are lying, I will cut out your tongue,’ snarled Sear.

‘I swear to you, on holy William’s soul, that this is the “evidence” from Lanothni,’ gulped Cornald. ‘It proves the attack was ordered by Edward.’

‘What are you taking about?’ demanded Geoffrey, lowering his sword.

‘We had word from Fychan that he had discovered a clue to the identity of the raiders who attacked his inn,’ explained Sear tersely. ‘Having lost so much, he was rather more painstaking in his hunt for evidence than we were.’

‘I still do not understand,’ said Geoffrey.

‘There was a witness – a villager saw and heard the raiders’ leader giving them orders. This villager also saw the leader drop something on the ground by accident as he turned to leave. Cornald offered to return to Lanothni today, to collect it.’

‘It was the least I could do,’ said Cornald, freeing himself from Sear’s grasp. He scowled. ‘Although I would not have obliged, had I known I would be manhandled on my return.’

‘My apologies,’ said Sear stiffly. ‘It was the shock.’

Geoffrey struggled to follow what they were saying. ‘But Edward was injured in one of those attacks. He would hardly order-’

‘Not very seriously injured,’ interrupted Cornald. ‘Moreover, another group of travellers arrived from Brechene last night. They told me they had not been attacked once on the road, nor was there any contagion in Brechene Castle.’

Geoffrey was bewildered. ‘So Edward lied about his men being sick, and, instead of accompanying us, they harried us every inch of the way? But why?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Sear grimly. ‘But your wife and Pulchria said the men who attacked you in Lanothni knew their way around in the dark – and Edward’s men are mostly local. It would explain why Alberic and I were unable to catch them after you drove them off. I sense something evil is unfolding here, and Edward and Richard seem to be at the heart of it.’

Geoffrey tried to rally his reeling thoughts. ‘I delivered two letters in Goodrich: one to Gwgan and one to Richard. All the ambushes concentrated on us knights – in our white surcoats, we doubtless look much the same to soldiers who do not know us. And it was Gwgan and Richard who were targeted last night. Perhaps…’

‘Perhaps what?’ demanded Sear impatiently.

‘Perhaps Gwgan and Richard have been ordered to do something of which Edward disapproves,’ finished Geoffrey.

‘Something like what?’

Geoffrey shook his head slowly. ‘Gwgan lied about the contents of his letter. He said it was about taxes and advowsons, but that sort of thing is complex, and his missive comprised a few sentences on one page – I saw it. It was much more likely to have contained an order.’

‘Yes, but what?’ demanded Cornald. ‘And why send the order to him, not Hywel? The Prince is in charge of the region, and it is for him to carry out royal commands, not his counsellor.’

Hywel! Suddenly, the answer snapped into Geoffrey’s mind, and it was so obvious he wondered why he had not seen it before.

‘Everyone acknowledges that Hywel is a good and popular leader, and I know Henry resents it. He told me so in La Batailge. Eudo went further and said putting Hywel in power was a mistake. It is unwise for a vassal to outshine the King, but Hywel does, and it has not gone unnoticed.’

‘You think Hywel will be ousted?’ whispered Cornald, aghast. ‘And that Richard and Gwgan will do it? But how? The people will not stand for a coup. They will support Hywel.’

‘I doubt a coup is what they have in mind,’ said Geoffrey soberly. ‘The only way to eliminate the threat Hywel has become is to kill him.’

Cornald and Sear gaped at him. ‘And how will they do that?’ demanded Sear in disbelief. ‘Hywel is safely inside Rhydygors, surrounded by a garrison that would die to protect him.’

‘He will not be inside Rhydygors tonight,’ said Geoffrey. ‘He will be at the house of his trusted friend and counsellor. Alone, so they can do business together. And Hywel’s troops – to the last man – have been sent out to round up these so-called outlaws.’

‘Except Gwgan’s personal guard,’ said Cornald, aghast. ‘They have been held back. When the garrison returns, Hywel will be dead and Richard will sit in his place. Or will it be Gwgan?’

‘Richard,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘Henry will not want another Welshman in charge.’

‘But Gwgan is Hywel’s friend!’ objected Cornald. ‘They are like brothers. Why would he betray him?’

Geoffrey had no answer.

‘So this is why I am ordered to serve Richard,’ mused Sear. ‘He will be the new lord, and I am expected to help him quell any resulting rebellions. Henry did not want me to know until we arrived in Kermerdyn, lest I took umbrage and disappeared home to Normandy.’

‘Listen to what we are saying!’ said Cornald, shaking his head. ‘We are accusing the King of cold-blooded murder.’

‘The evidence is compelling,’ said Sear.

‘Eudo,’ said Geoffrey softly. ‘Bishop Maurice said he schemed on the King’s behalf. Moreover, he wrote the letters to Gwgan and Richard himself, and refused to let his deputies see what was in them. He even sealed them in such a way that they could not be opened.’

‘So the King probably has no idea of what has been planned for Hywel,’ said Cornald in relief. ‘And all this treachery is the work of a clerk with misguided notions of loyalty.’

‘But Eudo was murdered in La Batailge,’ said Sear, frowning. ‘Who…’

‘Edward,’ said Geoffrey, the last pieces of the puzzle falling into place. ‘He must have discovered what was in the offing, and decided to stop it.’

‘Why would he do that?’ asked Cornald. He shrugged. ‘His devotion to Henry is absolute, and though we may disapprove of Hywel’s murder, no one can deny that it is in Henry’s best interests.’

‘No, it is not,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Henry will be glad to be rid of a popular rival, but the taint of murder will damage him badly. Edward will want to protect him from that.’

‘So Edward killed Eudo to prevent him from sending these letters?’ asked Cornald.

Geoffrey nodded. ‘But he was too late – the letters had already been written and handed to Pepin. Edward stabbed Eudo, then drowned him when the blow was ineffective – I should have seen that such a messy death was the work of a man unused to killing.’

‘He dropped silver pennies as they struggled,’ mused Sear. ‘You said at the time that they meant the culprit was a wealthy man. But this makes no sense – Edward has an alibi. He was in the stables when Eudo died, lecturing twenty stable-boys on horses.’

‘Edward knows nothing about horses – he can barely ride,’ snapped Geoffrey. ‘And the nag he bought in La Batailge is a miserable specimen. Moreover, he saddled the thing back to front the other day. No self-respecting stable-boy would have listened to him. He lied.’

‘But I thought he was looking into Eudo’s murder for the King,’ said Sear. ‘He certainly gave us that impression as we were riding towards Goodrich.’

‘Yes, he did,’ agreed Geoffrey. ‘Very cleverly, because we were less likely to suspect him.’

‘There cannot be two cold-blooded murderers in our company,’ said Cornald. ‘So it stands to reason that Edward killed Mabon, as well as Eudo. But why?’

‘Because he was aiming at Richard,’ explained Geoffrey. ‘Richard is selfish, and Edward predicted he would steal Mabon’s tonic. I assumed the same. Edward must have decided it was safer to poison him than to fight. He stole wolf-tooth from Leah, who keeps some for her headaches…’

‘But Richard must have been too drunk to steal,’ finished Cornald. ‘You were not exactly sober yourself, Geoffrey – your sister and Olivier know how to ply the wine.’

‘Edward was horrified when Mabon died,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I remember his face. Of course, it did not stop him from using poison a second time. In Brechene.’

‘No one died in Brechene,’ said Sear, bewildered.

‘No, but two men became very sick after eating fish soup – the fish soup that was enjoyed by the locals with no ill effects.’

‘Richard and Gwgan!’ exclaimed Cornald. ‘The recipients of the letters.’

‘But although he used too much on Mabon – enough to leave evidence that screamed murder – he used too little in Brechene,’ Geoffrey went on. ‘Mabon’s fate made him overly cautious.’

‘What shall we do?’ asked Cornald, frightened. ‘Who is in the right? Richard and Gwgan, who believe they are under the King’s orders? Or Edward, who is almost certainly acting alone?’

‘We cannot look the other way while murder is committed,’ said Geoffrey, snatching his horse’s bridle from the stable-boy.

‘But that is what Edward is doing,’ said Sear. ‘And I imagine it is why he left Kermerdyn earlier today – I doubt he has gone to Kadweli, as he claimed. We should leave it to him and not become embroiled in such unholy matters.’

‘He will fail,’ said Geoffrey, climbing into the saddle. ‘As he has failed so far.’

‘Do as he says, Sear,’ said Cornald urgently. ‘The King will not want Hywel murdered, because he will be accused of ordering it. Besides, if you thwart Richard, he may give you the Kermerdyn garrison in his place. It is not Pembroc, but it is better than being second in command.’

‘Very well,’ replied Sear reluctantly. ‘I shall summon my men.’

‘And I will hire messengers to fetch Hywel’s soldiers back,’ determined Cornald. ‘You will be heavily outnumbered, even if you do join forces with Edward, because Gwgan has his personal guards and Richard has his garrison.’

Geoffrey nodded his thanks, but he knew any such help would arrive far too late.