‘I will bear it in mind,’ said Geoffrey, his eyes naturally drawn to the slender figure, flawless complexion and pale gold hair.
‘Her name is Pulchria,’ Joan went on, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow when she saw him staring. ‘Look at how she simpers at your friend Sear, fluttering her eyes at him while poor Cornald is forced to make polite conversation with that grubby little monk.’
‘Sear is not my friend,’ said Geoffrey firmly. ‘And I will not inflict him on you for any longer than is necessary. I would have ridden to Kermerdyn today, but Olivier invited them hawking before I could stop him. We shall leave at first light tomorrow.’
‘Is your business so urgent, then?’ asked Olivier.
‘No, but there is no point dallying.’
Joan took his arm tentatively, as if she was afraid he might jerk it away. ‘Would it be too much to ask that you spend a few days with the family you see so rarely?’
‘And you have unfinished business with Hilde,’ said Olivier, rather primly. ‘You did not leave her pregnant, you know, so she will want another stab at it.’
‘Several stabs might be better,’ recommended Joan practically. ‘We all want an heir, and I am inclined to lock you up here until you provide us with one.’
‘You could try,’ muttered Geoffrey.
Joan’s eyes narrowed when a familiar voice echoed across the courtyard. She released Geoffrey’s arm abruptly. ‘You brought that rogue Roger with you! Well, in that case, perhaps a shorter visit would be better. He caused a lot of trouble the last time he was here.’
‘He also helped us fight off an army that was aiming to destroy us,’ Olivier pointed out. ‘And Roger and I love exchanging war stories.’
Roger had yet to realize that Olivier’s stories were fiction and that he claimed to have taken part in wars that had been fought long before he was born. Like Geoffrey, Olivier could read, and his ‘battle experiences’ came from books.
‘Well, in that case…’ began Joan, her resolve weakening, as it always did when Olivier expressed an opinion. Geoffrey wondered whether he and Hilde would ever come to regard each other so highly; he hoped so.
‘Who is the man that Edward kissed?’ he asked, changing the subject.
‘You mean the large fellow in the armour and the surcoat with the black cross?’ asked Joan. ‘That is Abbot Mabon.’
‘But he is a knight,’ said Geoffrey uncertainly.
‘That is what I said,’ replied Joan. ‘But he informed me that God calls all sorts to His service, and I should not put too much store by appearances.’
‘Do you think Cornald’s party will leave when Geoffrey does?’ asked Olivier, brightening suddenly. ‘The road to Kermerdyn is fraught with danger, and they will be delighted to add another five knights and Bale to their number – although I doubt Edward will be up to much.’
‘They might,’ agreed Joan hopefully. ‘Perhaps we will encourage you to make your stay brief, Geoff. The opportunity to be rid of them all is very appealing.’
‘We will make it up to you when you return,’ promised Olivier.
‘First light tomorrow, then,’ said Geoffrey.
Five
While Olivier and Joan went to oversee the final preparations for the hawking, Geoffrey lingered in the stable, rubbing his horse down with a piece of sacking. It was servants’ work, but there was something soothing about seeing to the animal’s needs. He was also content to be away from his travelling companions – and he had scant interest in meeting the new ones. Olivier and Joan had not painted a flattering picture of them, and he anticipated that the journey to Kermerdyn would be every bit as unpleasant as the one from La Batailge.
As he worked, he kept looking to see if Richard, Gwgan or Mabon might be approached discreetly. Unfortunately, Edward had cornered Mabon and was making him laugh with some tale, and Gwgan was chatting to Hilde. Richard was alone, slouching against a wall with a face as black as thunder, but there were too many servants nearby, and Geoffrey could not hope to deliver a letter without them seeing.
In the end, feeling he was shirking his responsibilities, he went to stand in the yard. It was not long before Sear spotted him. He was already wearing dry clothes, and his hands were full of food that had been set out on nearby trestle tables.
‘Your brother-in-law had better not be exaggerating the quality of his birds,’ he said coldly. ‘The fact that you decline to join us may be an indication that I am wasting my time.’
‘Olivier’s birds are magnificent,’ growled Roger, who had followed him. ‘And the reason Geoff cannot come with us this afternoon is because he needs to impregnate his wife. It is a tricky business, this begetting of heirs.’
‘Only if you do not know what you are doing,’ said Sear. ‘I would offer to show him, but his wife is hardly-’
He did not finish, because Geoffrey lunged suddenly, and the man found himself pressed against the wall with a dagger at his throat.
‘Kill him, Geoff,’ suggested Roger. ‘Or cut out his tongue.’
‘I was going to say that your wife is hardly the type to dispense favours like a common whore,’ gasped Sear, trying without success to shake free. ‘It was intended as a compliment.’
Geoffrey released him, thinking it was not much of one. ‘My apologies,’ he said flatly.
‘Accepted,’ said Sear, rubbing his neck. ‘You are fortunate in your wife. You could have had a beauty, like Cornald, but Pulchria strays from the wedding bed, and everyone knows it except him. She has offered me a tumble later, when we return.’
‘Me, too,’ said Roger. ‘You had better take her first, then, because she will not want anyone else once I have finished with her.’
‘Go, or they will leave without you,’ said Geoffrey shortly, nodding to where Olivier was sitting astride a small pony. ‘And please do him the courtesy of not quarrelling with each other.’
‘I have better things to do than spar with the likes of Sear when there is decent hawking,’ said Roger. ‘I shall be the perfect gentleman.’
Sear made no such promise, though, but within moments the party was gone, clattering out of the bailey. Delivering the letters would have to wait.
‘Good,’ said Joan when they had gone, and she was standing in a billow of dust with Hilde and Geoffrey. ‘You two can retire to the bedchamber, while I organize tonight’s meal.’
‘I am not a performing bear,’ said Geoffrey irritably, thinking that far too many people had ideas about what he should do with his wife.
‘I am glad to hear it,’ said Joan briskly. ‘Because that would be no use to Goodrich. We need a performing husband. Now off you go.’
Hilde blushed scarlet, and to spare her more embarrassment – he could well imagine the smirks of the servants if they marched purposefully through the hall and up the stairs together – he indicated she should go without him. Gratefully, she sped away.
He returned to the stable to give her time to compose herself, and discovered a small nail embedded in his horse’s hoof. His fingers were too thick to lay hold of it, and there was no convenient implement to hand. He grew exasperated, and released several colourful oaths that he never used in company. Then he became aware of someone behind him. He whipped around fast, reaching for his sword, but let his hand drop when he saw it was only the shy, grey creature who was Richard’s wife. He struggled to remember her name. Leah. She looked, he thought, nothing like her violent kinsman Belleme.
‘I was looking for Edward,’ said Leah, backing away in alarm. ‘We heard he has been granted permission to start building Kadweli in stone, and I wanted to congratulate him. He deserves the honour, because he is a good man.’
