mark in criticizing His Majesty’s favourite clerk. He was grateful to Maurice for trying to keep him safe, but did not want to see him in trouble. ‘He had a tendency to include addendums. And they might be redundant now he is dead.’
‘Explain,’ ordered Henry, narrowing his eyes.
‘Eudo was not honest,’ said Maurice, meeting his gaze evenly. ‘But he was loyal and always scheming to advance your interests. However, now that he is not here to see these plots through, they may miscarry, and-’
‘No,’ interrupted Henry. ‘Kermerdyn is too distant an outpost to warrant Eudo meddling; you are worrying unnecessarily. Besides, there is no need to waste good parchment and wax, and these missives are already signed and sealed. Geoffrey will carry them as planned. Pepin!’
The door was flung open, and the scribe scurried in with the package he had shown Geoffrey earlier. ‘Sire.’
‘Give Sir Geoffrey the letters. Have you explained what I want him to do?’
‘Yes, sire,’ said Pepin. ‘Five letters to be delivered. Four from you, and one from the Archbishop to Abbot Mabon. The ones to Richard fitz Baldwin and Gwgan are secret, and Sear is not to have his until everyone is safely in Kermerdyn. He will not be pleased, though – he will wonder why he was not given it by you, personally.’
‘Because I do not want him to have it yet,’ snapped Henry. He turned to Geoffrey. ‘He doubtless will be vexed, but you must tell him not to question his King’s wishes.’
Geoffrey said nothing but raised his eyebrows, feeling it was hardly his place to make such a remark to a fellow knight.
‘Here are the letters,’ said Pepin, passing them over. ‘The green circle is for Abbot Mabon… but you can read so you do not need my devices. However, for your information, the red dagger is for Sear, because he is warlike, the diamond is for Richard fitz Baldwin, because he is hard, and the fancy cross is for Gwgan, because he is literate, like us.’
‘And Wilfred’s letter is the fat one,’ finished Geoffrey, to show he had been listening earlier.
Pepin nodded. ‘For God’s sake, do not deliver them to the wrong people.’
‘I think we can trust Sir Geoffrey to get it right,’ said Henry dryly. He nodded to indicate Pepin was dismissed. The scribe shot out as quickly as he had entered.
‘Is there no letter for Prince Hywel, sire?’ asked Maurice. ‘I imagine he will expect one, given that you are communicating with the two most powerful churchmen in his domain.’
Henry stretched. ‘I do not pander to the sensitivities of vassals, Maurice. Besides, Hywel is too busy being popular to care what I think of him.’
‘I imagine he will care,’ said Maurice unhappily. ‘And it is not pandering to sensitivities as much as acknowledging his continued loyalty. It is simple diplomacy.’
‘Unnecessary diplomacy,’ countered Henry. ‘I have nothing to say at this time.’
While Henry and Maurice continued to debate, Geoffrey studied the letters carefully to assess whether they were the ones he had been shown earlier – he mistrusted everyone. Then Maurice took them, too, and held them to the light, as if he hoped to read what was written inside. The Bishop shook them, rubbed them against his cheek, and finally blessed them with great solemnity. Henry watched in astonishment.
‘Are you finished?’ he asked.
‘I sense an evil in them,’ explained Maurice. ‘You know I have a knack for telling these things. I wish you would let me rewrite them, sire. I have a fair hand, and it will not take me long.’
‘I cannot be bothered,’ said Henry. ‘It has been a long day; I am tired. And there is nothing important in them. They pertain to Kermerdyn, for God’s sake – a place we could barely plot on a map.’
‘Then why send Geoffrey to deliver them?’ asked Maurice. ‘Why not let Edward or Sear do it?’
Geoffrey winced. Maurice rarely questioned his King.
‘Because it suits me to send him,’ snapped Henry. ‘Remember yourself, My Lord Bishop. Not even you have the right to question me.’
Maurice looked stricken. ‘I meant no disrespect, sire! I was merely-’
‘Merely poking your nose into matters that are none of your concern,’ finished Henry. But he relented when he saw the prelate’s distress. ‘I am sending Geoffrey because one of these letters is for his kinsman – Gwgan. My Normans are not overly enamoured with the Welsh, and I would not like them to “forget” to deliver it, in order to see Gwgan in trouble.’
‘I see,’ said Maurice. He swallowed hard. ‘Will you tell us what these messages contain? The recipients may have questions, and Geoffrey will look foolish if he cannot answer.’
‘Very well,’ said Henry with a bored sigh. ‘The letter to Bishop Wilfred is about property, the one to Abbot Mabon is about clerical obedience, and the ones to Richard, Sear and Gwgan pertain to the routine deployments of troops. There is no reason to assume I am sending Geoffrey into danger. On the contrary, these messages could not be more innocuous.’
‘I see,’ said Maurice. ‘Then why-’
‘Besides, it will give him an opportunity to visit Goodrich en route, and warn his hapless wife and sister that they are about to have his company for the rest of his natural days. His ensuing excursion to Kermerdyn will give them the chance to get used to the idea.’
Geoffrey struggled not to gape, feeling it was hardly the King’s place to meddle in his domestic arrangements. ‘But Goodrich is not on the way to Kermerdyn. I will not go there first.’
‘I insist you do,’ said Henry. ‘My letters are not urgent, and you must avail yourself of another opportunity to produce an heir. You do not have one in the making yet, I believe. We are similar in that respect, although neither of us has any trouble siring bastards.’
Geoffrey was not sure whether he was more taken aback by the bald order to impregnate his wife or the implication that he was the kind of man to leave women with unwanted offspring. With the exception of one lady – a duchess who still laid claim to his heart – he had never been in one place long enough to develop an enduring relationship, and the other women he had bedded tended to know how to avoid unwelcome pregnancies.
‘I want Goodrich to have an heir,’ Henry went on. ‘Of course, my own wife is slow in that regard, despite strenuous efforts on my behalf, and I can hardly compel you to do what I cannot achieve myself. However, I would like you to try.’
Again, Geoffrey said nothing, thinking that what he did with Hilde behind closed doors was none of the King’s damned business.
‘Perhaps you should take your wife to Kermerdyn,’ said Henry thoughtfully. ‘She will be pleased to see her sister Isabella again, and I understand she knows how to wield a sword. She might even be useful to you, and you can make the heir along the way.’
‘Sire!’ exclaimed Maurice, glancing uneasily at Geoffrey and obviously worried about a tart response to the order. ‘I hardly think this is a suitable-’
Henry laughed. ‘Geoffrey does not object to me talking to him man to man. He is a soldier, for God’s sake, and I know for a fact that they discuss little else when they are out on campaign.’
‘I will put the matter to Hilde,’ said Geoffrey cautiously.
‘Oh, she will go,’ predicted Henry. ‘Besides, she may be in a position to help me, too. You see, William fitz Baldwin had a secret, and Isabella was one of those who was at his deathbed when he raved about it. She may have an inkling as to what it is. If so, you can find out for me.’
Geoffrey frowned. Now what was he being ordered to do?
Maurice was more forthright. ‘Is that the real reason for you giving Geoffrey these letters, sire?’ he asked uneasily. ‘You want him to investigate another matter entirely?’
Henry raised his hands in a shrug. ‘Well, why not? He will be in the area anyway.’
A messenger arrived with an urgent question from one of the King’s barons at that point, and Henry ordered Geoffrey and Maurice to stand on the far side of the room while the man whispered to him and received his answer. Maurice’s flabby face was unhappy.
‘I do not like this,’ he said. ‘I wondered why you were selected to deliver these messages, and now we know: Henry wants William’s secret.’
‘You mentioned this secret before,’ said Geoffrey. ‘You said William had discovered a way to shower himself with blessings and make himself a better man.’
‘And a richer one. At first, I assumed he was speaking metaphorically, but then it became clear that he had
