‘Not if Rodbert was there.’ Geoffrey lay back to watch her dress.
She smiled. ‘Rodbert is a very dear man, but he knows I like a little adventure now and again. Now I can include a Jerosolimitanus among my conquests.’
‘Conquests?’ asked Geoffrey, startled and amused at the same time.
‘Well, yes. It was hardly the other way around. Left to you, we would never have taken our friendship to a new level.’
‘Are we friends?’ Geoffrey was dubious.
She laughed, her voice low and husky, and came towards him, leaning close so he could smell her musky scent. Then her hand moved fast, and he glimpsed the glitter of metal in the candlelight.
Maude was not quick enough to fool Geoffrey, and he caught her hand long before the dagger was anywhere near his chest. It was a tiny thing, but sharp, and it made a tinny clatter as it fell from her fingers to the floor.
‘Well, there is one question answered,’ he said dryly, pushing her away from him and bounding off the mattress to don his armour. ‘We are not friends.’
‘You cannot blame me for trying,’ she said, not at all discomfited that her murderous attack had been thwarted. ‘Everyone else had a go. Besides, I did not try very hard, or you would be dead.’
‘Is that so?’
‘I could have killed you at any point,’ she insisted casually. ‘My dagger was close to hand the whole time, but we were both enjoying ourselves, and it seemed a pity to bring it to an early end.’
‘You delayed stabbing me only as long as I was doing what you wanted?’
She grinned. ‘I am a practical woman. I hope this misunderstanding will not prevent us from meeting on future occasions.’
‘We shall see,’ replied Geoffrey, thinking she was deluding herself if she imagined him to be the kind of man to overlook an attempt on his life. He knew some men thrived on that sort of uncertainty, but he was not one of them. He raised his finger to his lips when he saw the latch begin to rise on the door. Then he became aware that he could no longer hear voices from the hall.
‘Damn!’ she whispered. ‘The musicians are still playing and I did not think Rodbert would leave as long as they were performing. You had better go out through the window, before he catches you.’
‘The door is locked. He can only come in if you let him.’
‘You do not know him,’ she murmured. ‘He is fiercely jealous and will sit outside all night if it means catching me with a lover.’
Geoffrey indicated the mattress with his hand. ‘I can think of ways to pass the time.’
‘You do not understand,’ she said sharply. ‘I care for Rodbert, and I do not want him hurt. Jump out of the window, and I will tell him I have been here alone.’
‘No,’ said Geoffrey unchivalrously. ‘You jump out of the window, and I will tell him I have been here alone. You are the one who wants to avoid him.’
She sighed crossly, but went to the window and peered out. ‘I see you still have that rope you used to save Warelwast this afternoon. You can put it to use again, and lower me down. I trust you will not let me fall, to avenge yourself for the dagger incident.’
‘Probably not,’ he replied, gratified to see her regard him uncertainly. ‘Hurry, or he will suspect something amiss, no matter who he finds in here.’
The latch jiggled, and someone started to knock. ‘Are you there?’ came Rodbert’s voice. ‘Maude?’
She tied the rope around her waist and slipped through the window, pausing only to plant a kiss on Geoffrey’s lips. It was not far to the ground, and she was down in moments. He tossed the rope after her and went to answer what had become a furious hammering. When he opened the door, Rodbert shot inside like an arrow loosed from a bow, looking around him wildly.
‘What have you been doing?’ he demanded. ‘Where is she?’
‘As you can see,’ said Geoffrey, gesturing around him. ‘I am alone.’
‘Then why did you take so long to answer?’ asked Rodbert suspiciously.
‘I was washing,’ said Geoffrey, saying the first thing that came into his head.
‘You have not done a very good job,’ said Rodbert, looking him up and down. ‘Unless you have concentrated on the parts that do not show. Most people do it the other way around.’
‘Rodbert,’ said Maude from behind him, breathless and slightly dishevelled. ‘I have been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?’
Rodbert jumped in surprise, and Geoffrey was impressed by what had been a serious burst of speed. It was a long way through the garden to the front of John’s house, across the hall and up the stairs.
‘There you are,’ said Rodbert, aggrieved. ‘I thought Geoffrey might have imprisoned you here against your will. I was coming to rescue you.’
‘He would not dare,’ said Maude. ‘But let us retire to bed. I am weary and we have another long day of travelling tomorrow.’
‘Unfortunately, we do not,’ said Rodbert. ‘That is why I was looking for you – to give you the news. Clarembald came to tell us that the River Avon is flooded near Sanford, and the road will be closed until the waters recede. There has been too much rain recently.’
‘Damn!’ said Maude, echoing Geoffrey’s own thoughts. ‘I thought we would be home tomorrow.’
‘So did we all,’ said Rodbert. ‘But John has offered us his house for as long as we need it, and says he will travel with us when we leave – to visit the shops and make an investment with Barcwit.’ He shot Geoffrey a challenging stare. ‘And he would hardly do that in front of the King’s agent if there was anything untoward going on, would he?’
Geoffrey did not bother to point out that the Bishop of Bath might be staging an honest public transaction in an attempt to disguise previous ones that were less straightforward. Maude took Rodbert’s arm and led him to another chamber, whispering in his ear as she went. He could tell from the expression on the man’s face that she was making promises about the evening to come, and he admired her stamina.
He went back to the mattress and lay down, trying to resume his study of the Aristotle by the flickering light of a candle. Durand arrived a few moments later, and informed him that he would go blind if he read in the dark, claiming to know several monastics who had done just that. The squire sat on the end of the mattress and started to remove his boots.
‘Bloet went to investigate the swollen river,’ he burbled. ‘He does not believe Clarembald’s witnesses who say the road is closed. He is not back yet, but I am too tired to stay up for him.’
‘You are not concerned?’ asked Geoffrey, surprised the squire’s affection for his new lover should be so shallow. ‘It is dark, and he is out on a road he does not know.’
‘Sendi, Tasso and several others are with him,’ replied Durand. ‘They will be safe enough together – only a very foolish outlaw would attack that quarrelsome rabble. But I am surprised you do not know all this. What have you been doing all evening?’
Geoffrey waved the Aristotle at him, then changed the subject when Durand inspected the rumpled covers on the bed and raised meaningful eyebrows. ‘I learnt today that the King has charged Bloet to find the missing silver. Has he mentioned it to you?’
Durand’s expression became thoughtful. ‘I wondered why he is so interested in it. He has interrogated every one of the Saxons – Sendi’s men as well as Barcwit’s – since we left Westminster. He started the journey in high spirits, but he has grown increasingly despondent. I assumed it was because our arrival in Bristol means he will spend less time with me, but I see there may be another reason for his gloom.’
‘I do not understand what you are saying. He will be better placed to hunt out the silver once he reaches Bristol. Surely, he will be keen to make a proper start?’
‘But therein lies his problem. He does not know where to start. He has already questioned his most promising witnesses, because they are all here. But he has uncovered nothing that will help him locate the silver – only a lot of rumours and speculation.
I also heard him tell Warelwast that he thinks the hoard is no longer in England.’
‘What is his reasoning?’
‘Bristol is a port with sea connections to Ireland. He believes that any sensible thief would have loaded his loot on a ship and transported it out of the country.’
‘And you?’ asked Geoffrey. Whatever he might think of his squire’s unappealing nature, Geoffrey respected his opinions on matters like missing treasure. ‘What do you think?’
Durand shrugged. ‘I cannot say,’ he replied unhelpfully.
‘You can,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘Unless you want to muck out horses until we reach the Holy Land.’
Durand regarded him with dislike. ‘I have deduced nothing, if you must know. There is simply not enough information to allow anyone to make even the most tentative of guesses. If I were in Bloet’s position, I would be worried, too. His hopes for advancement in the Court are about to experience a serious setback, because I do not think he – or anyone else – will be able to solve the mystery.’
Geoffrey supposed he was telling the truth, although it was difficult to tell with Durand. They were silent for a while, and Geoffrey was grateful the King had not ordered him to locate the ingots as well as investigating the moneyers. The fact that the consignment seemed to have disappeared so completely indicated the thieves had been well organized, and he thought Bloet’s pessimism might well be justified: the hoard might indeed have been smuggled out of England on the first available ship.
Durand brushed mud from his cloak and boots, then did the same for Geoffrey’s, although all the grooming in the world could not disguise the fact that the knight’s clothes had seen better days. While he worked, Durand said Warelwast was still unable to release the rope, despite dunking the afflicted limb three times in Bishop John’s holiest waters. Clarembald’s paste of snakes’ eyes was currently being administered, and was expected to work by morning – by everyone except John.
Geoffrey lay with his arms behind his head, and thought about Maude. He had thwarted her attack on him with ease, so had it been half-hearted, as she had claimed, so she would not be in the invidious position of being the only traveller not to have tried to dispatch him? Or was she just not very good at stabbing her lovers? He found he could not answer, no matter how many times he replayed the incident in his mind.
Six
When Warelwast awoke the following day to find the rope on the floor by the side of his bed, there were several opinions as to what had happened. Clarembald, who had arrived uninvited that morning, claimed his potion had eased the rigid muscles, while John maintained his holy waters had worked their magic. Durand asserted that God had intervened, and Geoffrey believed the relaxing effects of sleep were responsible. However, no one was surprised when the bishopelect opted for a religious explanation. Uttering plenty of prayers, he took the rope and fastened it to a chain that he placed around his neck, vowing to wear it until God told him otherwise.
‘It looks like a doll,’ mused Durand. ‘It is frayed in two places, which gives it arms, and the knot at the top is a head. Meanwhile, the bottom splays out like skirts.’
‘No,’ breathed Warelwast as he inspected it more closely. ‘It looks like a monk in a habit! God is telling me it is time to abandon my secular attire and take the cowl.’
‘The head has a face, too,’ said John. ‘These two impurities are eyes, here is a nose, and this line is a mouth. The squire is right: it does look like a doll.’
‘Do not give it to a child, though,’ said Geoffrey, regarding the twisted, rather malevolent features with amusement. ‘It will give him nightmares.’
‘You are all wrong,’ said Clarembald archly. ‘It looks exactly what it is: a piece of frayed rope. There are no human features that I can see.’
‘That does not surprise me,’ said John. ‘You cannot tell one end of a patient from another, either.’
Bloet and the moneyers slept until they were awoken by the ensuing squabble, then came to the hall for a late breakfast. They had not arrived back in Bath until well past nine o’clock the previous night, wet from their foray to the swollen river. They reported that the waters were receding slowly, and that the road should be clear by the next day, as long as there were no more persistent downpours.
‘The worst rain is said to be over,’ said Clarembald, helping himself to ale, uncaring of the fact that John had ordered him to leave his house at least three times. ‘And if you had listened to me, you would have saved yourselves that unpleasant expedition.’
‘We needed to see it first-hand,’ said Tasso. ‘Barcwit would not be pleased if we tarried here when we could have been home. Now we know for certain that the delay is unavoidable.’
‘And we would not want to upset poor, kindly Barcwit, would we?’ asked Adelise in a sneer.
‘No,’ said Rodbert abruptly. ‘It would be rude, and Barcwit does not appreciate poor manners.’
‘It seems to me that Barcwit does not approve of very much,’ Geoffrey muttered to Maude, who had come to sit next to him. ‘Including, I imagine, his wife frolicking with his deputy.’
‘Not nearly as much as he would object to me lying with the King’s agent,’ she replied laconically. ‘So, if you tell him about Rodbert, I shall claim you seduced me.’
‘Would he believe you?’ Geoffrey saw doubt flicker across her face. ‘Do not worry. I am not the kind of man to inform husbands that I cavort with their wives, although you should tell Rodbert to learn discretion. He is watching you in a very proprietorial way, and Barcwit would have to be blind not to guess the meaning behind such an expression.’
She sighed, but took his advice and went to speak to Rodbert, while the others began to discuss how they would pass their free day. Roger, Helbye and Ulfrith were keen to sample the taverns, while John offered to show any interested parties Bath’s best shops. Bloet, who was depressed and listless, accepted gloomily, and Durand went with him. Warelwast wanted to pray in the abbey, to give thanks for his deliverance from drowning. But the Saxons declared themselves uninterested in any of the diversions John suggested and finally, in a desperate attempt to make them abandon their quarrels for at least some of the day, the Bishop recommended a visit to his mint.
‘It is operated by a man called Osmaer,’ he said. ‘I have employed him there since—’
‘I will go,’ interrupted Sendi. There was a determined gleam in his eye. ‘Osmaer is a good friend, and will speak on my behalf at any trial Bishop Giffard might—’
‘Osmaer is Barcwit’s friend,’ argued Rodbert. ‘I will not let you see him alone to spread your vicious lies. He will speak for us, not you.’
Then another row was underway, and it was not long before every Saxon had decided to descend on the hapless Bath moneyer.
‘What, all of you?’ asked Geoffrey, startled. ‘Will this poor man mind such a large deputation?’
‘He will not object,’ said Sendi curtly. ‘Not to me, at least.’
‘Do not stay long,’ said John, before Rodbert could argue about who would be the more welcome. ‘I do not want my profits affected because you distract Osmaer from his work.’
With a day to spare, and thinking it would be a good opportunity to learn about coin-making from an independent source, Geoffrey decided to go with them. The Saxons were still bickering when they arrived at the mint, and did not stop until Lifwine called out to warn Osmaer that he was about to be invaded by guests.
Osmaer, a tall man with long dark hair, seemed young to hold such a responsible post, but as soon as he started to speak, it was clear he was a man of intelligence and integrity – which explained why both Sendi and Rodbert wanted his support. He was too sensible to take sides, and was adept at side-stepping most of their attempts to trap him into making a choice.
Geoffrey had never been inside a mint – sightseeing was not encouraged in such places, on the grounds that they were full of money – but Osmaer agreed to show him around. He led the way to a large stone-built chamber tha
t was full of noise, and began to describe his craft, while the others jostled and pushed at each other to stand close to him. Sendi was keen to demonstrate that he knew more than Osmaer, to prove he was worthy of the man’s approval, while Maude seemed determined to get Osmaer on his own and practise her own methods of persuasion.
‘First, we take an ingot, melt it and pour it into moulds,’ said Osmaer. ‘Once it has cooled, we tip the silver – now in little buttons – out of the moulds and hammer them to a uniform flatness.’
‘You have fine ingots,’ said Maude, standing closer to the Bath moneyer than was proper or necessary. Rodbert bristled, and Adelise gave a snort of disgust. ‘The silver must be very pure.’
‘Silver,’ said Lifwine meaningfully to Geoffrey. ‘Not gold.’
‘Yes,’ said Geoffrey, wondering if the man thought he was stupid. ‘The only English coin in circulation is the silver penny. Foreign ones – of any metal – are melted down or re-stamped.’
Rodbert affected boredom. ‘Lifwine thinks he is a cut above the rest of us, because his ancestors made coins in the reign of King Aethelred.’
‘Gold ones.’ Lifwine was clearly proud. ‘My ancestor, Wulfric of Warwick, was famous for his gold pennies.’
‘Rubbish!’ said Tasso. ‘That would be a waste of gold. Silver is the only metal for coins.’
Sendi stepped forward. ‘Are you questioning the word of my cambium?’
‘The man is a liar,’ said Tasso coolly. ‘He lies about his ancestors, just as he lies about the dross you dare to call pennies.’
Sendi’s dagger was out of its sheath. ‘You filthy-tongued villain! I will—’
‘You will fight me?’ asked Tasso, sword in his hand. ‘Then let us do so! I am tired of bandying insults with you, so let us settle this with blood.’
‘No,’ said Geoffrey, stepping between them and pushing away Sendi’s dagger with his hand. He was not so foolish as to try the same with Tasso’s sword, sensing the knight had reached his limit with his argumentative rivals and was close to losing control.
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