‘I have no taste for what I’m about to say, but now I’ve started I may as well confess all.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘For you see, before the message from Walter de Courteville arrived, I’d also had a communication from our lord the earl. In it he said that he suspected that de Courteville would try something of the kind, and that if he did, I was to go along with it and pretend to marry them. But in fact I should miss out a crucial part of the service, or otherwise dissemble, to ensure that although they thought they were husband and wife, in reality they weren’t.’ His face white, he crossed himself. ‘May the Lord forgive me for abusing the holy sacrament so.’ He fell silent.
Robert whistled again. ‘So, since yesterday, Walter de Courteville and Lady Isabelle have been going about thinking that they were legally wed?’
Father Ignatius nodded. ‘I informed the earl of what had passed, and he bade me stay away from the castle and village today, until he had considered how best to proceed. He didn’t want me to tell anyone. But of course, if he’s said to you that I should tell all, then that’s different.’
Edwin blushed at the thought of his deception, but fortunately nobody noticed in the torchlit semi-darkness. But how else was he supposed to proceed? He needed to find out as much as possible before sundown on the morrow – less than one full day – and he needed people to give him information. He refused to feel guilty. But even so, lying to a priest … he hastily changed the subject.
‘So what will the earl do now?’
Father Ignatius looked at him wearily. ‘I don’t know. Luckily for me, that’s for him to decide. Now, if you will excuse me,’ he rose to leave, ‘I have prayers to say, for the good of my soul as well as that of Berold, who lies in his shroud in my church, and for his family.’
As he was leaving the room, Edwin was suddenly struck by another thought and called him back. ‘Forgive me for detaining you further, Father, but I have one more question. If you were performing a wedding ceremony, or at least pretending to’ – the priest winced – ‘where in the chapel would you have been standing?’
Father Ignatius looked surprised. ‘Why, in front of the altar, of course, with the two participants kneeling facing me.’
This is what Edwin had guessed. ‘So, you would have been facing the door?’ The priest nodded his assent. ‘And during the time that you were facing the door, did you see anyone going past in the passageway? Anyone who might have been on their way up to the roof of the keep?’
The others were unnaturally still, perhaps realising the significance of the question. Father Ignatius considered it carefully before shaking his head. ‘No. Even though I was involved in the rite, and indeed struggling with my own conscience, I would have noticed had anyone passed, for fear that they would see us. But in all the time I was there, nobody passed the door.’ He nodded a farewell and left the room.
Adam couldn’t quite take in the significance of what the earl was saying. By the look on her face, the Lady Isabelle couldn’t either. ‘William, what are you saying?’
He smiled. ‘I am saying, my dear, that you are not married to that good-for-nothing, that nobody can say that you are, and that we will have some suitable revenge on him for his duplicity.’ He sat back, almost smirking.
Comprehension slowly began to show on her face. She ventured a tearful smile, and then a small laugh. ‘Lord, I do believe he will have a surprise in store for him.’ Adam worked his way through the consequences, and found that the prospect was appealing to him as well. The lady continued. ‘What will you say?’
‘I don’t know yet. I’ll consider it, and decide how best to act.’
She agreed immediately. ‘Of course, brother. You will know what best to do.’ There was a slightly awkward pause during which Adam thought he might be noticed if he so much as breathed, before she spoke again. ‘Oh, if only I’d listened to your counsel in the first place! I might have spared myself all this.’
He looked serious. ‘Indeed. Perhaps now you’ll realise that I have all of our best interests at heart. Can you imagine the disaster which would follow with the estates in the hands of that toad?’ She looked contrite and on the verge of tears again. He spoke more gently. ‘But only now do I understand how much this matter of your marriage means to you. I’ve delayed too long, and as soon as I return from this campaign, I’ll give the question my full attention.’ She nodded, still looking subdued. He patted her shoulder. ‘And …’ the words came out in a rush, ‘And I give you my word that, although I shall seek a match for you which is in the best interests of our family and our lands, I shall never ask you to wed any man absolutely against your will.’
Adam had never heard of such a privilege, and he wondered at the earl’s generosity. He thought fleetingly of his own little sister, who had been toddling around last time he saw her, but who would be much bigger than that now. Would he look after her as well as the earl cared for his sister? He thought he probably would.
The earl helped his sister rise from the floor, brushing a few stray rushes off her skirts. ‘Come now, Isabelle. Tidy yourself, for you are a great lady and must have pride in your appearance.’ She straightened and assumed more dignity. ‘Better. Now, return to your chamber and ensure that you have a good night’s sleep.’ She nodded and withdrew.
The earl paced the room, but stopped mid-stride and snapped his fingers. He raised his voice and called. ‘Robert!’
As there was no reply, the earl looked around the room and seemed genuinely surprised that his squire was not in attendance. ‘Martin?’ He peered into the darkened corner where Adam and the knight were standing. ‘Geoffrey? Of course, I’d forgotten you were there. Where are those cursed boys when I want them?’
‘I am afraid I don’t know, my lord – I can only guess that they are about some business with young Edwin.’
‘Well, that’s as maybe, but I don’t want all of them away at once. Who’s that there with you – de Courteville’s squire?’
Adam trembled. The moment of judgement had come. How was he to be punished? But the earl merely spoke brusquely. ‘Good. At least someone thinks of my needs. Find Robert for me and fetch him here, there’s a good lad.’
Adam nodded, and was already moving before the earl could speak his next words.
‘Tell him to find de Courteville, wherever he’s hiding, and bring him … no, wait.’ Adam stopped at the threshold. The earl spoke in a different tone. ‘He’s probably the sort of man who prefers to lie abed in the mornings,’ – his voice dripped with contempt – ‘so tell Robert to go and find de Courteville at daybreak, or just before, and bring him to me. There are a few things I wish to say to him.’ He smiled unpleasantly.
Looking forward to being the agent of Walter’s discomfort, and fervently glad that he’d escaped the chamber unscathed, Adam almost skipped out of the room.
Edwin and the others were still considering the import of what they had heard when Adam appeared in the room, making them all jump. They leapt to their feet as he looked around.
‘Excuse me. I … I was told that you would all be here.’ He looked around, nervously. ‘I’ve been sent by the lord earl, to ask Robert to attend him.’
Robert gasped, and Edwin suddenly became aware of the fact that it was full dark. Robert looked stricken. ‘Our lord has been unattended all this time? How could I …’ He swept the room with a quick glance and spoke to Edwin. ‘I must go – let me know later what you talk about.’ He strode out of the room, Adam at his heels speaking of some task which he needed to perform.
After he’d left, the others looked at each other. Or rather, Edwin and Martin looked at each other, and Simon looked at the bread and cheese, which Edwin had completely forgotten about until now. He rolled his eyes. ‘Go on then.’ Simon seemed to hesitate for the barest moment, but then tucked in eagerly, leaving Edwin to wonder once again where the intended recipient of the food had got to. But he now had other matters on his mind. He looked at Martin, not sure how to start discussing the priest’s re
velations. There had been so many shocks. For a while they spoke of their astonishment, of the sheer unbelievable nature of what they’d heard. A secret wedding which was no wedding at all, high-ranking nobles deceived, a priest celebrating a false marriage in the full knowledge of what he was doing – it was simply outside of anything they’d ever encountered before.
But enough of the gossip – Edwin must think of the facts.
‘So-o,’ he considered, carefully, ‘if Father Ignatius didn’t see anyone go up the stairs, it must mean that the earl was killed either before the wedding ceremony started, or after they’d finished.’
‘Agreed.’
Simon said something unintelligible through a mouthful of food; Edwin regarded him for a moment, in case he was going to repeat it, then shrugged and turned back to Martin.
‘It also means that any one of the three of them could have gone up the stairs afterwards, if they left separately, and then killed the earl. Nobody else would know anything about it.’
‘Also agreed. But why?’
‘That is what we need to find out.’ Edwin thought for a few moments before continuing. ‘But surely we can discount Father Ignatius. He’s a priest – he couldn’t kill anyone. And what purpose would it serve? Why would he want to murder the earl? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘You’re right. But by that token, we must also discount the Lady Isabelle. Why would she want to kill him? And how could she do it? He was a strong man, and she’s only a woman.’
‘Ye-es,’ said Edwin, ‘but if she believed herself wed to the earl’s brother, then maybe she thought she would be a step closer to being the countess if he were dead? For then she would be married to the heir. De Courteville had but one son, is that right? She wouldn’t be far away from her ambition with only a child in her path.’ My God, he thought, is this what I’ve come to? Suspecting the Lady Isabelle, the earl’s own sister, of murdering a guest under his roof? How can the world have turned upside down so quickly? How can we be talking about this?
Martin shook his head. ‘But in that case, surely it’s much more likely that Walter would have killed his brother? He would be the one with all the power, after all, if he were to inherit. And who knows – he might have held some secret grudge against his brother, for that often happens in families. I think we need to find out more about him.’
Edwin thought the same: surely Walter was the most obvious suspect? He could have killed his brother and then stabbed Berold after he’d found out that he had been observed. Edwin also admitted to a feeling that it would be nice if the culprit turned out to be a stranger, and not someone from the castle or village, someone he knew. It would be easier that way. He needed to – but no, it was getting very late to do anything else today.
‘Well, it will have to wait – we can hardly drag the man from his bed to question him.’ Lord, but he was tired. How long had he been awake? The morning seemed like a lifetime away. Had it only been yesterday that he had been living his normal life? To be concerned with local matters on one day, and to be overtaken by events of national importance on the next – it was scarcely credible. He was half-convinced that he would wake up and find that it had all been a dream, such was the air of unreality.
It had gone very quiet over in the corner where Simon was sitting. Edwin turned to look at him, half expecting him to be asleep, but he was sitting upright on a stool, staring into the distance with a thoughtful expression.
‘Simon?’
He’d broken the spell. The boy turned round to look at him, weariness showing in his eyes. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘What about?’
‘What you were saying earlier about the time when the earl must have been murdered.’ He didn’t elaborate, making Edwin irritable.
‘Well, what about it?’
‘I don’t know.’ Edwin sighed in exasperation, but Simon continued. ‘There’s something – but it can’t be.’ He looked around at both of the others. ‘No, it can’t be. Just forget about it.’ He sighed, suddenly looking even younger. ‘I’m tired.’
Martin walked over to him and hauled him up off the stool. ‘Go to bed then. Our lord will need you tomorrow, and you’ll be no use if you’re so tired that you can’t stand up. Go on, off with you. Don’t wake the earl on your way into the bedchamber.’ He shoved Simon gently towards the door, and the boy staggered out into the dark room beyond.
Martin came back into the room to face Edwin, who spoke.
‘You should go as well.’
‘But we have much to discuss yet. We need to work out what we’re going to do tomorrow. We’ve only got one day left – we shouldn’t waste the night in sleep.’
But Edwin was shaking his head. ‘No. You’ll have a busy day tomorrow too, and you’ll need your wits about you. Go now, and leave me to think.’ He was too tired to notice that he’d become more used to issuing orders to members of the nobility.
‘What will you do?’
‘I’ll stay here. It’s too late to go back down to the village. There are others asleep in the hall here – perhaps I’ll join them.’
Martin hesitated. Edwin could see that he was exhausted. ‘Well, if you think it best …’
‘Yes, I do. Go.’
Edwin watched the tall figure leave the room, stooping as he walked under the lintel of the door. Wearily, he forced himself to stand. He followed out through the service room and into the hall, where shrouded figures lay in various attitudes on the floor. He groped around until he found a spare blanket, but then took it back into the office. He wouldn’t be able to think out in the hall. He moved a stool back against the wall, and sat back on it, wrapping the blanket around him. He schooled himself into calmness, staring in front of him and inhaling the scent of spices. He needed to order his thoughts and here, in the peace of the room, would be the best place.
He realised that he hadn’t thought about his father for several hours, the first time this had happened in weeks. Was he coming to terms with the impending loss, or was it merely that he had so much else on his mind that the demons had been pushed back out of his thoughts? He certainly had much else to occupy his mind. He tried to say a prayer for Berold, but couldn’t think straight for long enough to offer it properly to the Lord. The death provoked stronger feelings in him than the other, partly as Berold seemed more of an innocent, but also because nobody else seemed much bothered by it, intent as they were on the death of a man of higher rank. Was Berold not equal before the Lord to any man? He didn’t really know whether that was the case, but it was certain that here on earth he counted for much less than the dead nobleman. Hadn’t Sir Geoffrey himself said that the soldier’s death shouldn’t distract him from his main task? Well, he would avenge Berold, would give him some peace in his grave by finding out who had killed him. He would spend the night deep in thought until the pieces of the puzzle became clearer.
He blew out the tallow candle and settled back.
Outside in the courtyard, Martin stumbled for a moment on an uneven stone, and stopped to regain his balance, waiting until his eyes had become accustomed to the blackness. In truth, it wasn’t full dark, for the moon hadn’t yet waned, but it was still darker than the office with its flickering candle. He moved slowly through the yard, thinking how eerie the castle was during the night. Only a day before, a man had made almost this same journey, and had met his death. Martin shivered and looked warily at the shadows around him, becoming afraid. He tried to pull himself together. He was being foolish, thinking that anyone might harm him – after all, whoever killed the earl no doubt had a good reason to do so.
He thought of the visiting earl again. Surely there must have been many people with a reason to wish him ill. He was hardly the most pleasant of men. As Martin passed the kitchen, he recalled the events which had taken place there last night. He dreaded to think what might have happened to Joanna if he hadn’t been there. Joanna … for a moment he was lost in a pleasant reverie, but he was jolted back to awareness by a thought
. He stopped still in the darkness of the yard, considering the import of it. Joanna had come to speak to them earlier, to discuss what had happened. He himself had welcomed her. But she was Lady Isabelle’s companion, in her presence day and night. Lady Isabelle had been abroad for much of the night before, walking between the guest quarters and the keep, and up to the chapel for her false wedding ceremony. And yet, when they’d asked Joanna, she had asserted that she knew of nobody who might have been awake and moving about the castle at the time.
Martin felt cold. Why had she said that?
Chapter Ten
Edwin awoke in a panic as someone started to strike him. He fell off his stool and shouted for the onslaught to stop, trying to avoid the blows. He risked looking up to see that his assailant was William Steward.
‘Lord, boy, what are you trying to do to me, sitting there in the dark against the wall? Don’t you know you should never take a soldier by surprise like that? A few years ago in a different place and I might have killed you.’ He grabbed a handful of Edwin’s tunic and hauled him off the floor.
Edwin apologised. He felt dizzy. He’d sat in the darkness for much of the night, thinking his way through things, but had eventually dozed off, still in his sitting position. Now he was so stiff he could hardly move, and his muscles ached.
‘What are you doing here, anyway?’
‘I was talking in here last night, and it was too late to go back home, so I thought I’d stay here and try to get some things straight in my mind.’
William grunted. ‘Aye, well, it’s a hard enough task you’ve been given.’ He found another stool and sat down. ‘What have you discovered so far?’
‘Not much.’ Edwin summarised what he knew. He was right, there was little enough of it, but explaining helped him to fit different pieces of information together.
William sat in silence while he listened, apart from expelling a long breath at the mention of the priest’s story. Once Edwin had finished, he spoke. ‘It seems as though you know more than you think.’
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