Harold walked with Geoffrey, breathing in air scented with newly cut grass. ‘It is far warmer here than inside that church. Why do builders always make them so cold? When I am king, the first thing I shall do is commission a warm church. Will you accept the challenge? Roger tells me you are interested in architecture.’
Geoffrey laughed. ‘Such a project would be wholly beyond my meagre capabilities.’
Harold laid a hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder and lowered his voice. ‘I heard what Magnus said, and I want you to know that
‘I am not worried about Magnus.’
‘You should be. Now our time is close, he is becoming unsettled and dangerous. He told me last night that he will not rest until he has eradicated every Norman from England.’
Geoffrey watched Harold waddle away, thinking he had never encountered a less likely horde of rebels. He was jolted from his musings by a yell and watched Bale lumber after the dog, which was racing away with a piece of smoked pork. Not wanting to be blamed for the theft, he ate his breakfast alone outside the refectory, watching sparrows squabble for crumbs at his feet. Suddenly, droppings splattered on to the bread he was lifting towards his mouth.
‘That is a sign of good fortune,’ said Juhel, who happened to be passing. ‘But you are wise to be out here, because Magnus is holding forth again. Do you think his claims have any substance? There is certainly a lot of Saxon coming and going, and the fish ponds are thick with folk.’
‘That is because Galfridus told the layfolk to catch as many carp as possible, so there is a good supply for when the Duke arrives.’
Juhel was unconvinced. ‘Delilah has the right idea about that Magnus, and so does your dog: they both took an instant dislike to him.’
‘What do you think they see in him that we do not?’
‘That he is more dangerous than he looks. I am a stranger here, and what is happening is really none of my business, but I do not like to see a country torn asunder with silly plots. Do you think there is anything we can do to stop this before it goes too far?’
‘I sent a message to the King,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘And de Laigle should have dispatched a warning, too. I imagine it will not be long before someone comes to investigate.’
‘Good,’ said Juhel. ‘I wish I had done the same — I count His Majesty among my list of acquaintances, you know. Incidentally, Magnus is a liar. Do you recall that scratch on his arm at Werlinges? Well, I think he received it fighting Ulf. He ran into the church, then raced out a few moments later with Ulf at his heels.’
‘You smeared his injury with your balm,’ Geoffrey said, thinking it was time he resolved whether Juhel had poisoned him once and for all. ‘Do you still have it?’
Juhel looked uncomfortable. ‘No. Roger accused me of poisoning you with it, so I threw it away before he could add something toxic, then denounce me as a murderer. I have seen how scapegoats are procured, and I am too easy a target — a lone Breton among Normans and Saxons.’
‘Roger was right to accuse you. You do not like Magnus, and it was not me you wanted to harm, but
Juhel was aghast. ‘That is a dreadful thing to say! I would not know the first thing about feeding a man noxious substances.’
‘Obviously, as Magnus and I are still alive. I should have listened to Philippa when she told me you were a killer. She saw you throw Paisnel overboard — and saw him wave his arm in a feeble attempt to call the boat back.’
Juhel’s jaw dropped. ‘She is lying.’
‘I thought so, too. But Donan also saw him struggling in the water.’
Juhel began to tremble, his face ivory pale. ‘That cannot be true! He was dead.’
‘You admit tossing him over the side?’ pounced Geoffrey.
Juhel put his head in his hands. ‘He was dead! There was no life-beat.’
‘The cold water must have shocked him into consciousness. Why did you kill him? I thought you were friends.’
‘I did
Geoffrey did not believe him. ‘You probably murdered Vitalis, too,’ he said in disgust. ‘A frail old man. How could you?’
‘He was not as helpless as you think,’ said Juhel, some of his fire returning. ‘But
‘Right,’ said Geoffrey, walking away.
It had not been a pleasant interview, and Geoffrey was disheartened. When he saw Roger sitting on the hospital steps, he flopped down next to him and put his head in his hands.
‘I have been thinking,’ the big knight said. ‘It is beginning to feel very dangerous here, so I recommend we walk to the nearest town, buy horses, then ride to Winchester. I trust Breme to deliver your message, but it occurs to me that Henry may later ask why we did not do it ourselves.’
Geoffrey was relieved. It was a sensible plan. ‘Shall we go now?’
‘No — tonight is the eve of the Feast of St Columba, and I intend to keep a vigil until dawn. We shall leave tomorrow at dusk, when the darkness will afford us some protection. Besides, you need the additional day to regain more of your strength. You are still too pale for my liking.’
Geoffrey stared at him. ‘St Columba? Who is he?’
Roger waved an expansive hand. ‘A holy man — Irish, I believe. Or Scottish. God’s blood! What is Ulfrith doing to that woman now?’
Philippa’s furious voice was audible over most of the abbey as she screeched her outrage. Geoffrey hurried towards them, Roger at his heels, wondering whether the squire had done something that would see them on their way sooner than anticipated. Galfridus would not want female guests to suffer sexual advances while they were under his protection.
‘My Lady!’ cried Ulfrith, distraught. ‘I meant no harm. I love you!’
Geoffrey saw Lucian nearby, watching the scene with a troubled expression. Philippa looked at him out of the corner of her eye while she railed at Ulfrith, who hung his head with shame. Geoffrey frowned, wondering what she was up to.
‘I must go to the chapter house,’ mumbled Lucian, edging away. ‘Brother Ralph is reading from the writings of the Venerable Bede.’
‘Do not leave me!’ cried Philippa, swinging around fast, so the folds of Edith’s cloak billowed. ‘Not to the mercy of louts. Why did you not tell Ulfrith that I am already taken? We have an understanding — I gave you my necklace as our troth.’
‘You gave me your necklace for my journey to Bath,’ corrected Lucian, a little coolly. ‘There was no “understanding” between us. How could there be? I am a monk.’
Philippa gaped at him. ‘But you said you would renounce your vows for me.’
The flicker of unease that crossed Lucian’s face convinced Geoffrey she was telling the truth, but the monk remained firm. ‘You are mistaken, madam. My vows are sacred.’
Philippa was furious. ‘It is because of what you read in Vitalis’s will,’ she declared accusingly. ‘You had no right to steal it from me and poke through it without my permission.’
Lucian shrugged. ‘You do not own it. So how could you, a woman who willingly undertook a bigamous marriage, stop me?’
Geoffrey understood immediately what had happened: Lucian had not known Philippa’s ‘marriage’ was illegal and had expected her to inherit Vitalis’s wealth. Now he was in retreat — and Philippa had used the hapless Ulfrith, fooling the boy into molesting her in the hope that Lucian would be forced to declare himself publicly before it was too late.
‘So, Aelfwig was right: you
‘Men of God are not interested in money, lass,’ said Roger slyly. He looked hard at Lucian. ‘Unless he is an imposter, of course, and no more a monastic than I am.’
