A Dead Man's Secret

by Simon Beaufort

  ‘You should be glad Edward and Delwyn stayed out of the way,’ said Roger. ‘They are hopeless in a fight. Meanwhile, Cornald is a mystery to me. Perhaps he wanted to pay us back for sleeping with his wife.’

  ‘I have not slept with his wife.’

  ‘Did either of you kill this man?’ asked Ninian, breaking into their muttered discussion. ‘Because, if so, the culprit had better kneel in front of my altar and allow me to bless him. Murder is not good for the soul. Of course, I see you are Jerosolimitani, so I imagine this death is but just one of many.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Roger, taking it as a compliment. ‘But Geoff here is responsible for this one.’

  ‘He was trying to kill me,’ said Geoffrey defensively. ‘And my wife was in the room.’

  ‘Well, God will decide who was in the right,’ said Ninian. ‘Kneel and let me do my duty.’

  Geoffrey did as he was ordered, feeling he needed all the blessing he could get.

  When Ninian pronounced himself satisfied, Geoffrey left the church and returned to the inn, Roger in tow, hoping Fychan was not so stricken by his loss that he would be unable to provide breakfast. The inn’s main room was cold and empty. The fire had not been lit, the place reeked of spilled ale, and there was no sign of any of their companions. Fychan was there, sitting at a table with his head in his hands, eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

  ‘They took everything,’ he whispered brokenly. ‘Every single penny. I am glad you killed one of them. I hope he burns in Hell!’

  ‘Were you saving the money for a reason?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Ninian told us that you intend to donate some for a new church—’

  ‘I saved it because I loved it,’ interrupted Fychan. ‘Now it has gone, and I have nothing.’

  ‘You have your life,’ Geoffrey pointed out. ‘They could have killed you.’

  ‘I wish they had,’ said Fychan bitterly. ‘They have deprived me of my reason for living.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Roger, gruffly sympathetic. ‘It must be a terrible blow.’

  ‘It is like having your soul ripped out,’ said Fychan. ‘Much worse than when my wife died.’

  ‘Did you see anything that might allow us to identify them?’ asked Geoffrey, trying to mask his bemusement.

  ‘No!’ wailed Fychan. ‘If I had, I would have told you last night. You promised to take word to Prince Hywel today. He is a good man, who will see my distress and do what he can to get my money back. I would go out hunting the villains myself, but I am too ill with shock.’

  ‘Have there been rumours of thieves in the area?’ asked Geoffrey.

  Fychan shook his head. ‘None at all. This is a decent place, with law-abiding people, and Prince Hywel keeps everything in order. Indeed, were it not for the fact that you were a victim, too, I might have assumed one of your party was the culprit.’

  ‘Now, just a moment,’ began Roger dangerously. ‘We had no idea that you had a hoard of coins for the taking. Only locals would know that sort of thing.’

  He made it sound as though he would have launched an assault on Fychan’s hoard, had he known about it in advance. But there was no more to be learned from the distraught Fychan, so Geoffrey asked him to provide breakfast.

  By the time it was ready, the others had joined them. Cornald and Edward were yawning and rubbing their eyes, as if the incident had not prevented them from having a good night’s sleep. Sear and Alberic were slightly green about the gills, and Geoffrey wondered whether Fychan had plied them with ale past its best once they had become too inebriated to notice. Gwgan and Richard also seemed quiet, both claiming they had enjoyed boisterous welcomes from friends.

  Delwyn was aggravatingly spry, though, and talked in a deliberately loud voice that had most of the party wincing. Leah was the only one who demonstrated any concern for Geoffrey, coming to take his hands and peer into his face.

  ‘He is pale,’ she said to Hilde. ‘And the cut on his head is nasty. Perhaps we should not leave today.’

  ‘He should stay and regain his strength,’ said Delwyn immediately. ‘But the rest of us should proceed to Kermerdyn. Give me the Archbishop’s letter; I shall see it delivered today.’

  ‘We leave within the hour,’ said Geoffrey shortly. ‘Anyone not ready can travel on his own.’

  ‘We will be ready,’ said Gwgan quietly. ‘I must ensure Hywel hears of last night’s outrage as soon possible. I am sorry I was not here to help you. I should have known better than to lodge elsewhere. But we are in Hywel’s domain, and I thought we would be safe.’

  The wry gleam that usually danced in his eyes was gone, and Geoffrey saw the apology was genuine. He knew that Welshmen took family ties seriously; Gwgan probably was angry that he had not been there to defend a kinsman.

  Hilde looked hard at Edward and Cornald. ‘But you were not lodging elsewhere. Are you sure you heard nothing? The skirmish started quietly enough, but when my husband attacked back, he issued some very blood-curdling yells.’

  ‘They woke me immediately,’ replied Edward. ‘Unfortunately, this inn is inordinately dark, and I could not find my sword. There was no point dashing into an affray unarmed.’

  ‘I tried to light a candle,’ added Cornald. ‘But Edward was screeching at me to hurry, and it flustered me. By the time I managed, the villains had escaped.’

  ‘I heard nothing until it was too late,’ said Sear offhandedly. ‘And I would not have come to the rescue if I had. You should have been able to manage a few outlaws by yourself, Geoffrey.’

  ‘I would have come, had I known what was happening,’ said Alberic quietly, as Geoffrey grabbed Roger’s shoulder to prevent him from reacting. ‘But we were making too much noise, and by the time we realized something was amiss, the villains had fled.’

  ‘I heard a lot of clashing weapons, then yelling,’ said Pulchria. ‘And I saw at least a dozen shadows haring off into the night afterwards. I told Sir Sear the direction they had taken.’

  ‘Into the woods,’ said Sear. ‘It was pitch black and impossible to follow, especially as it took us a moment to arm ourselves, which gave them a good start.’

  ‘They looked as though they knew where they were going,’ said Pulchria. ‘But if they are the same rogues who have pestered us since Brechene, then I am wrong.’

  ‘I woke when I heard Sir Geoffrey shout,’ said Delwyn. ‘But I have learned to crawl under the bed when those sorts of things are screeched in the hours of darkness. I hid and stayed hidden until I was sure it was safe to come out. Which was this morning.’

  ‘You stayed under the bed all night?’ asked Roger incredulously.

  Delwyn nodded. ‘And I slept like a baby. I did not even hear Sear and Alberic return.’

  ‘I did not return,’ said Sear. ‘I decided to stay on alert, lest the villains attempted anything else. They made off with Fychan’s money, but I am not sure whether that was what they really wanted.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Edward. ‘What else could they have been after?’

  ‘They would not have looked in a bedchamber for him,’ said Sear scathingly. ‘Personally, I suspect they intended to rob us, not the innkeeper. Six knights travelling together is unusual and has aroused interest; the King was wrong to think it would render us safer. It has made us a target, because greedy thieves have assumed we are protecting something important.’

  ‘I disagree,’ said Hilde. ‘The first thing they did when they opened the door was to shoot a crossbow bolt into the bed. They were more than simple robbers. Moreover, as Geoffrey fought them, I had the distinct feeling they knew their way around – they did not stumble about blindly, like him. It gave them a huge advantage.’

  ‘So, they are locals, then,’ surmised Roger.

  ‘Or strangers who had taken the time to explore the place,’ said Geoffrey.

  It was another clear day as the travellers rode the last few miles to Kermerdyn. It was a pleasant journey, along a path that followed the river. Fishermen bobbed about in leather-skinned coracle
s and raised their hands in greeting as the riders passed. Gwgan waved back and greeted several by name. They seemed pleased to see him return.

  Now they were in home territory, Sear, Alberic and Richard took the lead, while Geoffrey and Roger brought up the rear. They were making good time, showing how eager everyone was to reach their destination.

  ‘They grow complacent,’ remarked Roger disparagingly. ‘They think we are safe now, but I have not forgotten last night so quickly.’

  ‘There is Kermerdyn,’ said Geoffrey, pointing. ‘It is a fair-sized settlement, so they probably are safe. I doubt Hywel will permit outlaws to come too close to his seat of power.’

  Roger sniffed. ‘Do you think we shall have the same problems on the way home? Or have you accepted my conclusion that all this is related to some business of that villain Henry?’

  ‘God knows,’ muttered Geoffrey. ‘Last night’s trouble may have been an attack by local thieves on a man known to be rich – Hilde and Pulchria both said the culprits seemed to know their way around. Yet I have had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. I wish I had not brought you, Bale or Hilde.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ declared Roger. ‘You need us. Besides, I have enjoyed myself. Moreover, I relieved Sear and Alberic of a considerable amount of money last night. It will more than pay for our journey home, which is just as well, because the funds Henry provided barely saw us out of Sussex.’

  ‘Unfortunately, now we are at Kermerdyn, the opportunity to solve the murders of William and Mabon is over,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Our companions will go their separate ways and will take their secrets with them. I shall have to tell Henry that I have no idea who killed them, and he may give me another commission to make up for it.’

  ‘He might,’ agreed Roger. ‘So perhaps we had better invent something, because I have set my heart on being in the Holy Land by spring. Tell him Sear is the culprit. It is probably true, so justice will have been served. And if it is not, well, he is a vile specimen and it serves him right.’

  Geoffrey laughed, then became serious again. ‘I wish I could have learned who murdered Mabon. It happened in my own home, and it feels as if a challenge was issued – one I failed to answer. Besides, there was something refreshing about a monastic with original ideas about religion.’

  ‘His sword would have been useful on the journey, too,’ said Roger. ‘I am sure—’

  He ducked suddenly, and both men raised their shields when they heard the unmistakeable sound of an arrow hissing through the air. The first struck Geoffrey’s saddle. Others thudded into his shield, telling him he would certainly have been dead had his instincts not been so finely honed.

  ‘Not again!’ muttered Roger. ‘I like a fight, but this is beginning to be tiresome.’

  Eleven

  ‘Shields!’ yelled Geoffrey at the top of his voice. Like the warriors they were, Sear, Alberic and Richard heeded the warning without hesitation, which saved the lives of all as a hail of missiles came towards them. Geoffrey spurred his horse forward, aiming to put himself between the attackers and Hilde.

  It was a mark of the frequency of the ambushes that the company knew exactly what to do. Hilde took charge of Pulchria, Leah, Delwyn and the servants, hauling them behind Mabon’s cart. Cornald joined them, crossbow at the ready, and he began to return fire as quickly as it could be wound. Sear, Alberic and Richard formed a tight cluster, using their shields to protect each other and themselves, and Gwgan galloped to join Geoffrey. Edward was the only one who dithered, looking back and forth like a trapped rat as he assessed which way to run.

  ‘Here!’ yelled Geoffrey, seeing he was going to be shot if he stayed where he was. ‘Now!’

  Edward’s horse heard the urgency in Geoffrey’s voice, even if its rider was slow to obey, and cantered towards him. Edward gripped the pommel of his saddle to prevent himself from falling off, and a distant part of Geoffrey’s mind wondered how the King could have knighted a man with such dismal equestrian skills.

  ‘There!’ shouted Roger, stabbing a finger towards a thickly wooded copse. ‘Half are lurking there, and the rest are by the bend in the track.’

  ‘Attack!’ roared Sear, spurring his way towards the corner. ‘We have reacted defensively for long enough.’

  Geoffrey was sure it was proximity to Kermerdyn that induced Sear to make such a rash decision. He was drawing breath to order him back when Roger broke formation and galloped towards the wood. Alberic and Richard tore after Sear, so Geoffrey had no choice but to support his friend. He was aware of Gwgan behind him, armed with a short stabbing sword.

  Cursing under his breath – a wood was no place for mounted warriors, and the ambushers held all the advantages – Geoffrey plunged into the trees. He cursed even more when he became aware that the ground was thick with fallen leaves, hiding ruts and roots that were likely to see the horses stumble and their riders thrown. He began to howl his Saracen battle-cry, hoping that its strangeness would unsettle the attackers. The ploy worked, and several promptly turned and crashed through the undergrowth ahead in a bid to escape.

  Unfortunately, rather more remained, and the continued hail of arrows indicated they were not about to give up. Geoffrey’s horse whinnied in pain as one scored a furrow across its chest; another glanced off his helmet. When he reached a section where the trees grew more thickly, hampering him further still, men poured out to do battle with him, hacking at his destrier and his legs in equal measure.

  It was unlike the other attacks, when the action had been broken off relatively quickly. This time, there was a grim determination – desperation even – among the men who surged forward against him. But even without being able to manoeuvre, his horse gave him height, and he was devastating with his sword, slashing and chopping at anyone rash enough to come within his reach. His destrier, too, had been well trained and began to flail with its front hoofs at those who pressed around it.

  Gradually, the ambushers began to fall back, although one continued a frenzy of blows. He howled furiously at his retreating comrades, and several returned to help him. Geoffrey launched another assault that scattered them, then concentrated on the man he was sure was the leader. He lunged with his sword, and when the man was off balance, followed it with a kick that took him in the chest. The fellow flew through the air and landed awkwardly, gasping for breath. Ignoring any knight’s cardinal rule – never to dismount in battle – Geoffrey leapt off his destrier and ran to press his sword against the man’s throat.

  ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘Speak, and I will let you live.’

  ‘Go to hell,’ snarled the man, although Geoffrey could see fear in his eyes. He pressed down on the sword.

  ‘I will ask you once more. Who are you?’

  ‘I am—’

  But the rest of his sentence was lost in a cry of agony as an arrow thumped into the man’s neck. Blood sprayed, and Geoffrey knew the fellow would not be revealing any deathbed secrets. He whipped around, scanning the trees, shield held in front of him. Had one of the man’s own comrades killed him to ensure he did not betray them? Or, he thought grimly, as a quarrel pounded into his shield, had they made a mistake and actually been aiming at him?

  The fight had isolated him from his companions, although he could hear sounds of battle to his left. Keeping his shield raised, he ran towards it, unwilling to stay pinned down. He exploded into a clearing with another howl, and the sight of him caused several men to break from where they had been skirmishing with Roger and run for their lives.

  Geoffrey’s horse had followed him, so he mounted it quickly and rode to his friend’s side. Roger was breathing hard and held his arm awkwardly.

  ‘Arrow,’ he muttered.

  ‘Go back to Hilde,’ ordered Geoffrey. ‘I will find the others.’

  Roger wheeled around and was gone, leaving Geoffrey to penetrate farther into the woods. He was angry. It was foolish for experienced knights to let themselves be lured into such terrain, and he wondered what Sear, Alberic
and Richard thought they were doing.

  He found Sear first. One of the attackers lay dead at his horse’s feet, although he looked to have been shot, whereas Sear only carried a sword. It was curious, but there was no time for questions as more ambushers suddenly poured through the trees.

  ‘Back!’ yelled Sear. ‘Towards the road.’

  He turned and thundered away, leaving Geoffrey with no choice but to follow: there were too many for him to tackle alone. Sear burst into another clearing, where Richard was heavily besieged. Most ran away when they saw reinforcements arrive.

  They encountered Edward next, sword drawn and bloody, but his face pale. Gwgan materialized suddenly on foot, leading his horse. He was breathless but unhurt.

  ‘My horse bolted,’ he gasped. ‘I always considered him a steady beast, and he has never baulked at a battle before. I cannot imagine what—’

  ‘Back to the road,’ Geoffrey ordered urgently, wondering whether they had been enticed into the woods on purpose, so as to leave the cart unattended.

  But he need not have worried. The cart was unscathed and so was Hilde. Roger was sitting on it as she and Leah tended his arm, although he had refused to relinquish either sword or shield while they did so. He relaxed his guard when Geoffrey appeared.

  ‘It is just a scratch,’ he said.

  ‘Where are Cornald, Pulchria and Delwyn?’ asked Geoffrey, dismounting and inspecting Roger’s wound.

  ‘Here,’ said Delwyn, arriving suddenly enough to make Geoffrey jump. ‘I told you: I tend to hide at the first sign of trouble. And thank God I did. That attack was the most vicious yet.’

  ‘It was,’ agreed Roger soberly. He glanced over Geoffrey’s shoulder. ‘And here comes our brave butterer. It does not look as though he dispatched many bolts after we rode into the forest, and God alone knows what Pulchria was doing.’

  Geoffrey spoke in a low voice, so only Roger and Hilde could hear. ‘One of the attackers was about to tell me all, but he was shot before he could speak. It may have been an arrow intended for me, but, equally, one of our companions may have loosed it. Sear, Richard and Gwgan were all behaving oddly when I found them, and now Cornald and Pulchria . . .’