The Bloodstained Throne

More tears fell, and she brushed them away angrily.

‘I cannot seem to stop crying. But Ulfrith tells me you have investigated killers. Will you investigate this one? You do not need to denounce him publicly — just tell me his name, and I will slip a piece of ribbon around his throat.’

‘Then you will be a murderer, too.’

‘I do not care! It would be worth eternal damnation. But you will find it is Juhel. He killed Paisnel, and a man who kills once always itches to do it again — or so your man Bale told me.’

‘Did he?’ asked Geoffrey, wondering what else his squire had said.

Philippa was silent for a while, and when she next spoke, her voice was low and hoarse. ‘This is Edith’s cloak. Do you think it is wicked to use it, while her body is still unburied?’ She clutched it tighter and sobbed.

‘I would want Roger to use mine, if I was dead and he needed clothes.’ It occurred to Geoffrey that Bale had used similar arguments, and he supposed there was a very fine line between robbing the dead and justifiably making use of someone’s possessions.

‘Edith was strangled with ribbon,’ Philippa went on. ‘Who would do such a thing?’

‘Just like your husband,’ Geoffrey said absently.

Philippa gaped at him. ‘What did you say?’

Too late, Geoffrey realized that unless Ulfrith or Bale had told her what they had found, she would be ignorant of the fact that Vitalis had suffered a similar fate. Philippa gazed at him in horror as he described what they had discovered at Vitalis’s grave. He watched her closely for a sign that she might have known something about it, but from her shock, he thought that she had not.

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered. ‘Edith had some ribbon that Paisnel gave her, and we planned to use it to secure Vitalis’s cloak when we buried him. But a squall came and we ran for shelter. When we came back, it had blown away.’

Geoffrey took the bull by the horns. ‘You said you were with Vitalis when he died. That means either you strangled him or you are lying.’

‘It means neither! He gasped and choked in my arms, and I saw the life pass from him. Then the shower came, and Edith and I ran for shelter. We buried him when we returned.’

Geoffrey was not sure whether to believe her. It was a plausible explanation, but only just.

‘I would never harm him,’ she continued when he said nothing. ‘Without him I have nothing.’

‘Then what about Edith? She was less fond of him than you.’

‘But not enough to kill him! And I have changed my mind: you will not investigate Edith’s death. You will reach entirely the wrong conclusion. I am sure it is Juhel. He saw me leave and decided to chance his hand while my poor friend was alone, strangling her when she refused him.’

There was no more to be said, so Geoffrey took his leave, walking fast down the nearest path to test his strength. When he reached the bottom of the hill, he strode across the boggy area, towards the abbey’s carp ponds, hidden from the buildings by trees. He was breathless when he stopped. Roger was right: he needed more time to recover. He leaned against a tree to catch his breath, noting that he had reached the far southern boundary of La Batailge’s precinct.

He had not been there long when he heard a snap. He glanced up at the wall and saw a head poking over the top, and in the fellow’s hands was a loaded crossbow.

‘Do not move,’ ordered Fingar. ‘Or it will be the last thing you do.’

The captain had a clear shot and could not possibly miss from close range. Geoffrey was disgusted with himself for not wearing his armour. He glanced behind, noting that the ponds were completely screened by trees, so he should expect no rescue from anyone at the abbey.

‘We meet again,’ said Fingar softly. ‘I am pleased to see you recovered.’

‘Did you visit me in the hospital?’ asked Geoffrey, buying time while he tried to devise a way to escape.

Fingar smiled enigmatically and declined to answer. ‘Are you here to catch fish for the monk who is pretending to be the abbot?’

‘No, I came for a walk,’ replied Geoffrey, flapping away a marsh insect that whined around his face. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Why do you think? We have been watching La Batailge for days now and know how to move through its grounds unseen, especially at night. I have even been in the church, to thank God for delivering us from the storm.’ Fingar paused. ‘And to ask Him to help us get our gold back.’

‘How much did Roger take?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Was it a purse, or the entire chest?’

Fingar grimaced. ‘You know the answer to that. However, if you can persuade him to give it back, I shall let you both live. Refuse, and you will die. See reason, Sir Geoffrey. What use is gold, unless you are alive to enjoy it?’

Roger would never part with what he had taken, and Fingar might just as well have asked for the moon. Geoffrey doubted the pirate would keep his end of the bargain anyway — Roger had sentenced them both to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. Silently, he cursed his friend’s greed.

‘I will do my best,’ he promised. ‘How is Donan?’

‘More eager to leave with every passing day. You would be amazed at how many carts and horses start to appear on the roads after dark and how many men skulk in the shadows — it is downright dangerous here! And this abbey is a veritable refuge for thieves and murderers. Besides Roger, there is Philippa. At least, that is what Donan claims.’

‘Donan thinks Philippa stole something?’

‘No, he thinks she threw Paisnel overboard. I told you this the other night-’

Suddenly, Fingar disappeared from the wall, accompanied by a howl of pain. Geoffrey gazed in surprise, wondering if the abbey guards had dragged him down from the other side.

‘Run!’ came an urgent voice from behind him.

Geoffrey spun around: it was Ulfrith. He raced after the squire, who did not stop until they were well outside arrow range. Hands on knees to catch his breath, Geoffrey saw Ulfrith held several large stones.

‘You have not been well,’ said Ulfrith in explanation. ‘So I followed you, to make sure you came to no harm. It was good I did.’

But Geoffrey suspected he had been in no danger, because Fingar hoped to use him to retrieve his gold — Ulfrith’s well-meant interruption had merely served to end the conversation before Geoffrey had asked all his questions. Still, at least he now knew that Fingar had visited him in the hospital — and that Donan’s peculiar claim that it was Philippa who had tossed Paisnel overboard was not a figment of a fevered imagination.

‘Did Roger tell you to follow me?’ he asked. With hardly a pause, he answered his own question. ‘No, he would have come himself. You acted on your own initiative, because you were afraid I was going to meet Philippa.’

‘Well, I was right,’ said Ulfrith sullenly. ‘You did meet her.’

‘Not on purpose — she crept up on me. Do you have any water? All that running. .’

‘Here.’ It was Geoffrey’s own flask, and Ulfrith gestured impatiently when the knight hesitated to take it. ‘I filled it from the well before I followed you to the church, so it is perfectly safe. I thought if I brought your own supply, you might stop taking mine.’

Geoffrey drank and began to feel better.

Ulfrith hesitated, then spoke in a rush. ‘Do you feel any. . do you feel love for Lady Philippa? Did you offer her your heart and tell her you would be hers for ever?’

Geoffrey regarded him warily, thinking these were odd questions to be asking a battle-hardened knight. Especially one who was married. ‘No,’ he replied cautiously. ‘Why?’

‘You did not feel an urge to take her?’

Geoffrey blinked. ‘We were in a church, Ulfrith! What kind of man do you think I am?’

Ulfrith did not look convinced. ‘Then what did you talk about so intently?’

Geoffrey’s patience was wearing thin. ‘That is none of your affair. I am grateful to you for driving off Fingar, but that does not give you the right to question my actions. Not ever.’

Ulfrith regarded him sullenly, then turned on his heel and slouched away. Geoffrey shook his head, heartily