‘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 Bellême. ‘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 snif
fing 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.’
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