The Bloodstained Throne

The squire nodded with such conviction that Geoffrey was sure he was telling the truth. Magnus obviously sensed he was about to be exposed, because he leaned forward to inspect the bauble and hastily revised his story.

‘Oh, yes, that is mine. It went missing on Patrick, and I assumed a pirate had taken it.’

Geoffrey was puzzled. ‘But you said nothing — and it is valuable.’

Magnus was dismissive. ‘When I am king, I shall have a hundred such rings.’

‘But you are not king yet,’ Geoffrey pointed out. ‘And until you are, you need all the treasure you can lay your hands on. Why you were so stoic about its loss?’

‘It is not valuable, actually,’ said Roger, examining it closely. ‘So it would not have been worth making a fuss. Especially with the likes of those pirates.’

‘But it is a pretty bauble even so.’ Magnus held out his hand. ‘Give it back.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey. Even if Magnus was its rightful owner, there was a reason why he had not mentioned its loss, and it was all very suspicious. He was not about to hand it over.

Harold gazed at him in astonishment. ‘You intend to keep it for yourself? But Bale has admitted to hauling it from a corpse! It cannot be lucky.’

Geoffrey handed it and the purse to Bale. ‘I do not want it, but nor should it go to Magnus. Not yet.’

‘This is outrageous!’ spluttered Magnus furiously. ‘And I do not forget such slights.’

He stalked away, his tall, thin body held rigidly erect.

‘He bears grudges,’ warned Harold unhappily. ‘And he can be spiteful — so watch yourselves.’

It was warm in the sun, and Harold began to doze. Ulfrith wandered away, and Geoffrey supposed he was going to torture himself with the sight of Philippa and Lucian.

‘The boy is a fool for that woman,’ declared Roger, grimacing in exasperation.

‘I shall be glad when we leave this place,’ said Geoffrey unhappily. ‘His infatuation is making him sly and vengeful. He did add something to his water flask to stop me from using it, you know. He would never have resorted to such a low trick before.’

‘Did he, by God!’ exclaimed Roger. ‘That is low, especially as you have been so sick. If it brings about a relapse, I shall cleave his head from his shoulders. Of course, he is not the only one who likes to tamper with drinks: Lucian poisoned you with his cure-all.’

‘But Magnus took it, too, and he was not nearly as ill as I was.’

‘But he was unwell. And he also used Juhel’s balm for his scratched arm. Yes, I know we have been through this before, but think about what Bale said about stealing Vitalis’s ring.’

‘A trick he learned from you,’ said Geoffrey, rather coolly.

‘Yes, yes.’ Roger’s wave of the hand indicated that was irrelevant. ‘But think about it: he deceived you with a sleight of the hand. And Lucian and Juhel did the same. Lucian must have had two phials — he and Magnus drank from one, but he exchanged it for another when it was your turn. And the same goes for Juhel’s balm: one part of the pot is for healing and the other is for harm. Remember his jar — red one side and blue the other? It is so he can remember which is which.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I accept that if Bale can deceive me with tricks, then anyone can, but I doubt two men had the idea of poisoning me simultaneously. And, besides, why me? You are the one with the gold.’

‘But you have wits, and those are dangerous to men like Juhel and Lucian. I bragged about the cases you have solved — obviously, they became worried.’

‘What, both of them?’

‘They are in it together,’ persisted Roger. ‘They are involved in something sinister that saw Vitalis, Edith and that shepherd murdered by Lucian, and Paisnel killed by Juhel. Just because you do not know what it is, does not mean it has not happened.’

‘I suppose it is possible,’ said Geoffrey, although he could not see the two as partners. He looked at Bale, who was regarding him in much the same way as his dog did on occasion: with a certain desperate affection that he was not sure would be reciprocated.

‘You have done well, Bale,’ he sad, watching the man’s face split into a grin of pleasure. ‘You uncovered evidence that put Gyrth at Werlinges during the massacre, and you were probably right to take the ring and the purse — although you should not make a habit of it.’

‘No, sir,’ said Bale. ‘I will not steal from corpses without good cause in future. But how do the cross and habit prove Gyrth responsible for the massacre? I thought they only showed he visited the village.’

‘Because of the way the blood is sprayed across the material. In battles, I have seen many such stains when throats have been slashed. There are also marks in the region of the thigh, where he wiped his blade. Gyrth killed someone at Werlinges without question. Then he donned civilian clothes and came here.’

‘Where he wanted to kill someone,’ mused Roger. ‘But why you, Geoff?’

‘I doubt Gyrth was after him,’ said Harold, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Geoffrey wondered how long he had been listening. ‘It was more likely a monk who had offended him.’

‘That is unlikely,’ said Geoffrey. ‘It seems he was only here for a few hours before Galfridus dispatched him to some distant village, to test his sincerity.’

‘Then perhaps that is why he went to the hospital,’ suggested Harold. ‘He thought it was the monks’ dormitory, because he had not been here long enough to know better.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey. ‘There was not enough time for a monk to have annoyed Gyrth to that extent. I suspect his arrival here had something to do with your rebellion — and so did the massacre. Gyrth was not the only one to have been involved in that. Your brother Ulf was there, and dry blood, combined with wet, indicates he had been fighting before Bale got him. These stains indicate he did not kill the villagers himself, but he may well have ordered Gyrth to do it.’

Harold shook his head, horrified by the suggestion. ‘Impossible! We need people alive, not dead. Whatever happened at Werlinges had nothing to do with us.’

‘Of course it did. And the fact that Gyrth was involved proves it.’

‘Gyrth did support our cause,’ acknowledged Harold unhappily. ‘But I do not see how he thought to further it by slaughtering villagers and stabbing men in abbeys.’

Geoffrey was sorry for him. Poor Harold was an innocent who attracted supporters by his smiling manners. But, as soon as he was no longer needed, harder, more ruthless men would step in, and Harold would find his throat cut.

And then something else became clear. Bale had mentioned blood smeared on doors in Werlinges, as though in warning. Geoffrey suspected that was exactly what it was: Werlinges had escaped being laid to waste by King William, and Ulf and Gyrth wanted everyone to know what happened to those who collaborated with the enemy. The hapless priest had tried to make amends by providing horses for Magnus and Harold, but the Saxon rebels had not been appeased.

‘So if Gyrth was not after you, and not after a monk, who was he trying to kill?’ asked Roger.

‘You,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘Rebellions are always hungry for money, and it is common knowledge that you stole a great deal of gold from the pirates.’

‘They wanted to use my money to topple Henry?’ asked Roger indignantly.

Geoffrey nodded.

Roger rubbed his chin. ‘Then it is just as well it is in a safe place.’

‘Where?’ asked Geoffrey.

Roger grinned and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Now, that would be telling.’

The Duke did not come that day, and towards the end of the afternoon the atmosphere of excited anticipation faded to anticlimax. Galfridus retired to the church, although no one was sure whether he was praying for the Duke to arrive or to send word that he was not coming.

‘It will be a delight to host him,’ he said morosely, as he and Geoffrey met near the kitchens — the knight to beg a bone for his dog, the monk to snatch a mouthful of carp. ‘But I shall remove the Lamb of God, of course. I do not want him making jokes about the Pig of God, which is how the novices now refer to it, thanks to you. But you know the Duke, do you not? Sir Roger said you were in his service.’