‘I did not poison it,’ said Pulchria, shooting her husband an alarm-filled glance. ‘Besides, dozens of people had access to it – Delwyn and Bishop Wilfred loitered by the kitchen, and had no explanation for why, and half of Kermerdyn was at William’s last dinner—’
‘But no one else had any butter,’ pressed Geoffrey.
‘No,’ said Cornald coldly. ‘It was a gift for William, not for general consumption. And he did not eat it all at once, anyway, but consumed it over several days. William was a lovely man, and we were all shocked when he was taken from us.’
Geoffrey turned to other matters. ‘Why did you pretend to lack skill with the crossbow?’
‘I was not pretending!’ replied Cornald with an uneasy smile. ‘It has been many years since I last touched one, and you, of all people, will know that military skills rust without practice.’
‘Not to that extent,’ said Geoffrey. ‘You could have done better.’
‘Yes, he could,’ agreed Pulchria, shooting Cornald a cross glare. ‘I wanted that gold back.’
‘It would not have been polite to win the prize I provided,’ said Cornald, seizing on the excuse with palpable relief. ‘But my throat is parched after all the excitement, and I need some wine. Come, Pulchria. You can pour it for me.’
Geoffrey watched them go, exasperated. His questions had led nowhere, and neither Cornald nor Pulchria could be eliminated from either enquiry.
Some of the servants were selected to shoot next, giving Geoffrey time to observe Goodrich’s guests. They were generally enjoying themselves, even Richard, and none looked to be suffering from a bad conscience. The only one looking miserable was Leah, who was sitting alone on a bale of straw, shivering.
‘There is hot broth and a fire in the hall,’ said Geoffrey, taking pity on her. ‘It is not necessary to stay outside, especially as your husband has already had his turn.’
Leah smiled, and he thought it was a pity she did not do it more often. She held out a thin, white hand, so that he could help her to her feet. It was icy-cold to the touch, and the veins were blue against it. He released it as soon as it was polite.
‘Will you walk with me to the gate?’ she asked. ‘I have another headache, and my eyesight is blurred. No, do not look concerned. It is an affliction I have had for a long time, and it will be gone in a while. All I need is warmth and quiet.’
‘It sounds unpleasant,’ said Geoffrey.
‘It started just before William died,’ Leah went on. ‘Seven years ago. I had a violent ague that kept me in bed, and I have never fully recovered.’
Geoffrey sensed Richard glowering, but ignored him; he should have looked to his wife’s comforts himself if he did not want others to do it for him. Then he stole a glance at Hilde, sheepishly aware that he had barely exchanged a word with her since the contest had started. But she was taking a turn in the butts, and appreciative applause from Goodrich’s villagers indicated she was putting on a respectable show.
‘Is that why you were not at William’s deathbed?’ he asked.
Leah nodded. ‘Edward and Alberic were not there, either – they were patrolling the woods near Kadweli and visited me on their way home, which was nice. I had been abandoned to the servants, you see, because everyone was more worried about William.’
‘Who do you think killed Mabon?’ asked Geoffrey bluntly.
Leah blinked. ‘I wish I knew, because I would urge him to go to your gentle parish priest and confess. That sort of deed is not good for the soul.’
‘So you have no ideas?’ pressed Geoffrey. ‘No suspicions?’
‘None. However, no one from Kermerdyn will be responsible – I have known them all for years. You will find the culprit is a Goodrich man. A lot of your servants were shocked by Mabon’s irreligious views, and your sister makes no secret of the fact that she keeps a comprehensive store of medicinal herbs in the castle.’
‘Really?’ asked Geoffrey. Joan would not be pleased if it transpired that one of her own people was the guilty party.
‘Look,’ said Leah suddenly, pointing. ‘It is Edward’s turn to shoot. I shall watch him and then go to the hall. Would you mind waiting a moment?’
Edward sauntered up to the line with a good deal of confidence, then made a great show of setting his feet and taking aim. His first bolt whistled so wide of the target that it sent several onlookers ducking for cover.
‘I am still not recovered from vomiting so violently yesterday,’ he explained with an amiable grin. ‘I am normally rather good at shooting. Give me another arrow.’
‘Bolt,’ corrected Sear, handing one over and then helping when Edward struggled to place it correctly. ‘We call them crossbow bolts.’
‘I knew that,’ said Edward, hands on hips as Sear wound the weapon for him. He tried to take it before it was ready, restlessly impatient, like a child. His second shot was worse than his first, raising an indignant squeal from Adrian. But the third slammed neatly into the centre of the target, drawing an appreciative cheer from the onlookers.
‘The luck of a beginner,’ said Richard. ‘That last shot was a fluke.’
‘It was skill,’ countered Edward indignantly. ‘The first two were the flukes. This weapon pulls to the left and is horribly stiff for a man with delicate fingers.’
He danced a little jig, much to the crowd’s appreciation, and then made a show of donning his pale purple gloves. Joan remarked politely that they were very fine, and was promptly rewarded with a complex description of how he had come to purchase them. Bored, Geoffrey offered his arm to Leah, eager to see her to the hall so he could resume his enquiries.
‘Where are you taking her?’ demanded Richard. ‘She is not well enough to be dragged all around the butts. Why do you think I found her a bale of straw to sit on?’
‘I was escorting her to the hall,’ replied Geoffrey shortly, hoping the man was not going to provoke another confrontation. ‘She has a headache.’
Richard’s face creased into concern. ‘You should have told me, Leah,’ he said, uncharacteristically gentle. ‘You promised me you would.’
‘I did not want to spoil your fun,’ said Leah, leaning on his arm gratefully.
‘You could never do that,’ he whispered, kissing her lightly on the top of her head. He scowled when he saw Geoffrey was watching, and led her away.
It was not long before Edward came to stand next to Geoffrey, still preening from the praise lavished on his final shot. It would not see him win the competition, because his first two efforts would count against him, but it was certainly the best that day. His happy expression faded when he followed the direction of Geoffrey’s gaze and saw Richard and Leah.
‘I do not understand what she sees in him,’ he said. ‘Oh, he loves her well enough, but he is always so damn miserable. You would not know it to look at her, but she was a happy little creature as a girl. These days, her illness renders her as gloomy as him, and even I struggle to make her laugh. Of course, none of us has much to smile about today.’
‘No?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Why not?’
‘Because of Mabon,’ replied Edward. Geoffrey was horrified to see tears in his eyes. ‘He was a good friend, and I shall miss him horribly.’
Geoffrey recalled the pleasure with which they had greeted each other the previous day, and knew he was telling the truth. Edward’s distress at the abbot’s death was genuine.
‘When William died,’ he began tentatively, ‘you were out on patrol.’
‘William fitz Baldwin?’ asked Edward, startled. ‘But he died seven years ago! Or are you thinking that if William was poisoned, then the same person might have murdered Mabon? It is certainly possible, I suppose, although I cannot imagine why someone would choose them as victims. They were so different.’
‘Because William was a saint, and Mabon was irreligious?’
Edward’s smile was pained. ‘William had his faults, believe me. He was cloyingly pious for a start. However, Mabon was a fine man, and he was reli
gious – he just did not allow himself to be confined by Church dogma. I admired him for that.’
‘Your patrol,’ prompted Geoffrey.
Edward sighed. ‘Alberic and I were gone for almost two weeks, hunting a band of villains who were robbing travellers. It was dreadful work – hot, tiring and dirty. When we arrived in Kermerdyn, no one was home except Leah, who was ill. We availed ourselves of a bed in her home for the night and learned of William’s death the next morning.’
‘Do you believe he was poisoned?’
Edward was silent for a while, then nodded. ‘Yes. I thought so at the time and I have no reason to revise my opinion. He said he had a secret, and a lot of people were eager to learn it. Of course, William dead meant it was lost for ever, so the killer made a grave mistake.’
‘What was this secret?’
Edward sighed. ‘I do not believe there was one. William may have been speaking figuratively – to explain his turn to goodness in a way he thought others would understand. But it killed him, because someone decided to take it from him.’
‘Did anyone stand out to you as a suspect?’
Edward shrugged. ‘Delwyn, Sear, Alberic, Cornald, Pulchria, Hywel, Bishop Wilfred, various servants. Not Richard, because he was devastated by his brother’s death, and not Leah because she was too unwell. However, your silly shooting contest has been good for one thing.’
‘And what is that?’
‘You can cross me off your list of culprits for trying to kill you last night. I am a fine shot with a familiar weapon, but it takes me a while to get used to strange ones.’
He sauntered away, leaving Geoffrey not sure what to think.
When it was time for Sear and Alberic to demonstrate their skills, both did so with a careless confidence that demonstrated their superior ability. They beat Richard’s score, and Sear was smugly aloof when Adrian declared him in the lead, with Alberic second.
‘You will not do better,’ Sear informed Roger. ‘You and your friend will lose.’
‘We will see about that,’ growled Roger angrily, seizing the crossbow in his big hands ‘Come on, Geoff.’
The crossbow was not Roger’s forte, but pure bloody-mindedness led him to put three bolts in a neat triangle in the target. Unfortunately, they were all to one side, so although he scored more highly than Alberic, he was still behind Sear.
‘I have been asking everyone about Mabon,’ said Geoffrey to Sear and Alberic, while Roger wound the weapon for the next contender. ‘Do you have any idea who might have killed him?’
‘Richard,’ said Sear immediately. ‘And he probably shot at you, too, because he has more than ably demonstrated that he is skilled with a crossbow.’
‘Why would he do either?’ asked Geoffrey, not pointing out that Sear was highly skilled with a crossbow, too.
‘Because he is that kind of man,’ replied Sear shortly. ‘Cruel, vicious and unfathomable.’
‘Easy, Sear,’ said Alberic softly. ‘We have no evidence to make accusations.’
‘Or else it was Delwyn,’ Sear went on. ‘He is sly enough to resort to poison, so he may have killed William all those years ago, too. I doubt he is much good with a crossbow, though.’
‘I can shoot,’ objected Delwyn, hearing the last part. He snatched the bow from Roger and demonstrated a respectable skill, although nothing to match that of the knights.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’ asked Alberic uneasily. ‘Did Mabon teach you?’
‘No,’ said Delwyn haughtily, shoving the weapon back at Roger and beginning to stride away. ‘I was not always a monk. And, for your information, you are all suspects for murdering Mabon in my eyes. The only one who is innocent is me, because I was praying at the time.’
‘Your alibi is God?’ asked Sear mockingly. ‘I doubt that will convince Sir Geoffrey.’
‘It will if he is not a heathen,’ called Delwyn, stamping away.
‘I have changed my mind,’ said Sear, watching him. ‘He is the culprit. He probably killed William, too, because he was seen loitering in the kitchen near the butter.’
It was Geoffrey’s turn to shoot, but Gwgan reached the crossbow first. Geoffrey had not known he had been standing so close, and realized uncomfortably that the Welshman possessed the ability to blend into the background. It was a trick he had seen other politicians employ, and it crossed his mind that Gwgan might be conducting his own enquiry into what happened to Mabon – not by asking questions, but by watching and listening. He decided to find out.
‘What have you learned about Mabon’s murder?’
Gwgan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What makes you think I have been looking into it?’
‘You are Prince Hywel’s counsellor, and he will want to know what happened to Kermerdyn’s abbot. Of course you have been exploring the matter.’
Gwgan smiled. ‘You are right, although I have nothing to show for my efforts. Mabon had his eccentricities, but I do not see them as reasons to kill him. It was the same with William fitz Baldwin – most folk liked him, but it did not stop someone from feeding him poison.’
‘You think the same person dispatched them both?’
Gwgan thought carefully. ‘It is possible, although Mabon seems to have died almost instantly, whereas poor William lay ill for days, vomiting up anything he ate.’
‘Mabon, Cornald and Richard noticed he had black fingers,’ said Geoffrey. ‘And Pulchria claimed he had seizures, too.’
Gwgan nodded, then shuddered. ‘God save us all from such a terrible fate! He was out of his mind most of the time, babbling all sorts of rubbish.’
‘About his secret?’
Gwgan waved a dismissive hand. ‘The tales about his secret are nonsense. William did change when he arrived in Kermerdyn and started building a castle, but that was because he was in Wales. It brings out the goodness in people.’
Geoffrey did not think he would regale the King with that particular theory.
‘Mabon thought it was something to do with a vision William had in the river.’
Gwgan shrugged. ‘Then why did William keep it a secret? Why not tell everyone?’
It was a valid point, and Geoffrey barely noticed when Gwgan put three neat crossbow bolts into the centre of the target with a cool panache that indicated he was a warrior as well as a diplomat, thinking through the counsellor’s claim. Adrian called out to announce that the score was equal to Sear’s.
‘Come on, Geoff lad,’ said Roger, shoving the crossbow in his hands. ‘It is your turn. You have to do better than Sear and Gwgan to win. You can do it.’
‘It is discourteous to defeat your guests,’ muttered Olivier in his other ear. ‘And Goodrich is known for its good manners, so watch what you do.’
‘Ignore him,’ breathed Roger. ‘There is more at stake here than your manor’s reputation. That Sear needs to be taught a lesson.’
Geoffrey turned to Olivier. ‘Does Joan keep wolf-tooth in the castle? For killing rats?’
‘Of course not,’ replied Olivier with a frown. ‘There are far better substances than wolf-tooth for killing rats. However, I imagine it is readily available in the village. Why? Are you thinking that one of us might have made an end of Mabon? If so, you are wrong. He was a trying guest, but he was on the verge of leaving. We had no reason to dispatch him.’
‘Never mind that,’ snapped Roger. ‘Concentrate on the task in hand. You must win.’
‘Manners, Geoffrey,’ warned Olivier.
‘You should not be taking part in this contest,’ said Adrian suddenly. ‘Surely, you have had enough bloodshed and slaughter?’
Geoffrey regarded him askance. ‘It is a straw target, Father. I doubt it will mind.’
‘You imperil your immortal soul if you continue to hone these diabolical skills,’ declared Adrian. ‘And, as your household priest, I order you to desist.’
‘Listen to him, Geoffrey,’ said Joan.
‘Then I declare the winners to be Sear and Gwgan,’ announced Adrian loudly, b
efore Geoffrey could tell Adrian what to do with his strictures. ‘The gold will be divided between them. Unless they are good, decent men, who will donate it to the poor.’
‘Why did you not tell him to go to the Devil?’ demanded Roger, when the priest had flounced off with the purse without giving Sear and Gwgan an opportunity to object. ‘You let Sear win.’
Geoffrey turned to Joan and started to laugh. ‘Did you put Adrian up to that?’
Joan regarded him coolly. ‘What if I did? You would have won, and it would not have been polite. I am glad Adrian is determined to save you from eternal damnation and so agreed to intervene.’
But Geoffrey was actually more concerned with the dangers on Earth, and determined that he would carefully watch what he, Hilde and Roger ate and drank on the trip to Kermerdyn. Especially butter or potions in small bottles.
Eight
Brechene, October 1103
Unlike the journey to Goodrich, the track into Wales was dry and hard, and made for excellent riding. Geoffrey’s companions did not object to his rapid pace, although it still took longer than it should have done. Hilde and Pulchria did not slow them down, but Leah’s debilitating headaches did, and concern for her well-being forced them to stop early nearly every day. The men did not object to the shorter journeys, happy that the presence of women meant the party tended to find shelter in inns and villages, rather than under hedges or in barns.
It was a large company – Richard and Cornald each had several servants – and an ostentatious one. All six knights – Geoffrey, Roger, Sear, Alberic, Richard and Edward – wore white surcoats, and so did Gwgan. Cornald, Pulchria and Leah dressed in a way that said they were people of substance, and, with such an overt display of affluence, Geoffrey expected them to be ambushed at every turn. Richard and Gwgan almost came to unfortunate ends when an unseen attacker threw knives at them, but otherwise there was no trouble, and Geoffrey supposed the presence of so many warriors deterred casual robbers.
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