The Bloodstained Throne

That was highly unlikely, even with Philippa’s dim intellect. ‘You explain what happened, then,’ suggested Geoffrey.

‘Juhel was late in joining the rest of us,’ began Bale when Ulfrith could not rise to the challenge. ‘And some of the pirates wandered off to look for their contraband. Any of them could have killed Vitalis.’

‘How?’ demanded Geoffrey. ‘Philippa stated quite clearly that she was with him when he died — which means she was with him when he was strangled. As I imagine she would have noticed someone else choking the life out of him, the only logical explanation is that she and Edith did it.’

‘Perhaps they thought he was dead when they buried him, but someone else came along, dug him up and strangled him later,’ suggested Bale, doing his best for Ulfrith.

Geoffrey shook his head. ‘The truth is that Philippa and Edith either killed him or were complicit in his death. The facts simply do not allow any other conclusion.’

Unwilling to debate the matter further, he turned away and began to walk again. But he had underestimated the intensity of Ulfrith’s feelings, and, with no warning, the squire attacked. Geoffrey had never been assaulted by a servant before and was taken off guard by Ulfrith’s ferocity. Ulfrith was a powerful lad, and the weight of his body knocked Geoffrey from his feet. He began to pummel the knight with his fists, the dog racing around them, barking frantically. The battering did not even stop when Geoffrey pressed his dagger against Ulfrith’s throat: the lad was in such a rage that he was oblivious to everything.

‘No!’ Geoffrey yelled as Bale jumped forward with one of his knives. Bale might be Ulfrith’s friend, but protecting Geoffrey came first.

Bale hesitated, giving Geoffrey just enough time to drop his dagger and scrabble for a rock, which he brought up sharply against the side of Ulfrith’s head. Ulfrith slumped, dazed, and Geoffrey struggled out from underneath him.

‘God’s teeth!’ he muttered, not sure which had unnerved him more: Ulfrith’s blind fury or Bale’s readiness to kill a comrade. He ran his hand over his face and found Ulfrith had scored a scratch on his cheek, which would soon probably be joined by bruises. He grimaced in annoyance, thinking he would hardly be hired by a pilgrim if he looked like a man who brawled. He prodded the squire with the toe of his boot, watching impassively as he regained his senses.

‘Get up,’ he ordered coldly. ‘I did not hit you that hard.’ And certainly not as hard as I wanted to, he added inwardly.

‘Oh, God!’ groaned Ulfrith. He looked up at Geoffrey, his face ashen. ‘Will you tell Sir Roger what I. . He will dismiss me. Or worse.’

‘It is no more than you deserve,’ said Geoffrey, regarding him dispassionately. ‘You should be thankful you did not attack him, or you would be dead now.’

‘That is true,’ agreed Bale. ‘His knife would have been through your throat in an instant.’

‘That is enough, Bale,’ said Geoffrey, wondering what he had done to be saddled with such a pair. ‘Rinse your face in the sea, Ulfrith. You look as though you have been crying, and that will not impress Roger.’

‘I will fetch you some water,’ said Bale when Ulfrith was slow to obey. He glanced at Geoffrey. ‘I will get some for you too, sir. For the blood.’

‘You are a fool,’ said Geoffrey when Bale had gone. ‘All this for a woman who has not even noticed you. And a lying one at that, who may have murdered her husband.’

Ulfrith shot him a bleak look, but his fury was spent. When Bale returned, he rinsed the cut on Ulfrith’s head, then did the same for Geoffrey, humming all the while. He was never so content as when he was up to his elbows in gore.

‘There,’ he said, standing back to inspect his handiwork. ‘That is better. You are lucky he did not knock out one of your teeth, sir.’

‘No, he is lucky he did not knock out one of my teeth. And now we had better catch up with Roger; he will be wondering what we have been doing.’

‘He will not be pleased when he hears what happened,’ said Bale in a wicked understatement. ‘So could we say Sir Vitalis’s corpse jumped out of its grave and set about us — and you were obliged to strangle it? That would explain why Vitalis was throttled, why you two are battered — and it would exonerate Philippa and Edith. Everyone will be happy.’

Geoffrey regarded him uncertainly. ‘Everyone except me. I would earn a reputation as a corpse throttler.’

‘Do you intend to look into it, sir?’ asked Bale. ‘The murder, I mean? You have investigated similar crimes, and there is nothing to stop you from exploring this one.’

‘Other than the fact that I have no authority to start poking about in such affairs. But this is the second murder to occur among Patrick’s passengers, if Philippa is to be believed. They are far too dangerous company for me, and all I want is to be away from them all.’ And from Bale and Ulfrith, too, Geoffrey thought acidly.

Four

Roger, Juhel and Magnus had not gone far. They had reached the place where Patrick had foundered the previous day and were watching the sailors gather the remaining flotsam and set it alight. Roger had found a low bush on a rise above the beach and was spying on them. Magnus sat with him, fretting about the passing time, while Juhel lay on his back next to them, fast asleep.

‘Get down!’ hissed Magnus when Geoffrey approached. ‘They will see you.’

‘They must have been here all night,’ said Roger, not taking his eyes off the beach. ‘Burning everything, lest taxors come to investigate.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Geoffrey, resisting Magnus’s attempts to pull him down. ‘But we have no need to hide from them.’

‘I disagree,’ said Roger, reaching out a powerful hand to haul on Geoffrey’s surcoat. Puzzled, Geoffrey crouched next to him. ‘They look dangerous to me — and desperate. They have already killed some of the scavengers, and, much as I like a fight, I do not think we should risk an encounter with thirty smugglers and murderers.’

Geoffrey looked to where he pointed and saw several bodies — villagers, judging by their clothes. Then he glanced at the marshy vegetation behind the beach and saw that although most of the locals had gone, two shadows still loitered. The distinctive green hat identified one; the other was the heavyset man. Eventually, Roger climbed to his feet, taking care to stay out of sight.

‘God’s blood!’ he swore when he noticed Geoffrey’s face. ‘What happened to you?’

‘We found Vitalis,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But he was strangled, not drowned.’

He showed Roger the ribbon. Meanwhile, Juhel’s rest had been disturbed by their voices, and he was waking up. Geoffrey watched his reaction to the news intently, but Juhel revealed nothing other than the astonished dismay that any innocent man would have expressed.

‘It looks like something a woman might own,’ said Roger, handing it back. Then his jaw dropped. ‘Do not tell me that Philippa and Edith did it?’

‘They were very distressed by his death,’ said Ulfrith stiffly. ‘You saw how bitterly they wept.’

Geoffrey thought, but did not say, that if Edith and Philippa had dispatched Vitalis, they would hardly celebrate the deed with smiles and laughter. He held up the ribbon for Magnus and Juhel to see, watching for any flicker of recognition. He was not surprised when there was nothing.

‘It is the kind of cord used for binding documents,’ remarked Magnus. ‘Paisnel owned some, because he dabbled in sinister clerkly activities.’

‘He could write, yes,’ acknowledged Geoffrey. ‘But so can I.’

‘Quite,’ agreed Magnus acidly. ‘And that is why I trust Sir Roger over you. Literate types cannot help but dissemble and lie.’

‘You speak like a peasant,’ said Juhel in distaste, the twinkle fading from his eyes. ‘There was no dishonesty