‘Mabon, Cornald and Richard noticed he had black fingers,’ said Geoffrey. ‘And Pulchria claimed he had seizures, too.’
Gwgan nodded, then shuddered. ‘God save us all from such a terrible fate! He was out of his mind most of the time, babbling all sorts of rubbish.’
‘About his secret?’
Gwgan waved a dismissive hand. ‘The tales about his secret are nonsense. William did change when he arrived in Kermerdyn and started building a castle, but that was because he was in Wales. It brings out the goodness in people.’
Geoffrey did not think he would regale the King with that particular theory.
‘Mabon thought it was something to do with a vision William had in the river.’
Gwgan shrugged. ‘Then why did William keep it a secret? Why not tell everyone?’
It was a valid point, and Geoffrey barely noticed when Gwgan put three neat crossbow bolts into the centre of the target with a cool panache that indicated he was a warrior as well as a diplomat, thinking through the counsellor’s claim. Adrian called out to announce that the score was equal to Sear’s.
‘Come on, Geoff lad,’ said Roger, shoving the crossbow in his hands. ‘It is your turn. You have to do better than Sear and Gwgan to win. You can do it.’
‘It is discourteous to defeat your guests,’ muttered Olivier in his other ear. ‘And Goodrich is known for its good manners, so watch what you do.’
‘Ignore him,’ breathed Roger. ‘There is more at stake here than your manor’s reputation. That Sear needs to be taught a lesson.’
Geoffrey turned to Olivier. ‘Does Joan keep wolf-tooth in the castle? For killing rats?’
‘Of course not,’ replied Olivier with a frown. ‘There are far better substances than wolf-tooth for killing rats. However, I imagine it is readily available in the village. Why? Are you thinking that one of us might have made an end of Mabon? If so, you are wrong. He was a trying guest, but he was on the verge of leaving. We had no reason to dispatch him.’
‘Never mind that,’ snapped Roger. ‘Concentrate on the task in hand. You must win.’
‘Manners, Geoffrey,’ warned Olivier.
‘ You should not be taking part in this contest,’ said Adrian suddenly. ‘Surely, you have had enough bloodshed and slaughter?’
Geoffrey regarded him askance. ‘It is a straw target, Father. I doubt it will mind.’
‘You imperil your immortal soul if you continue to hone these diabolical skills,’ declared Adrian. ‘And, as your household priest, I order you to desist.’
‘Listen to him, Geoffrey,’ said Joan.
‘Then I declare the winners to be Sear and Gwgan,’ announced Adrian loudly, before Geoffrey could tell Adrian what to do with his strictures. ‘The gold will be divided between them. Unless they are good, decent men, who will donate it to the poor.’
‘Why did you not tell him to go to the Devil?’ demanded Roger, when the priest had flounced off with the purse without giving Sear and Gwgan an opportunity to object. ‘You let Sear win.’
Geoffrey turned to Joan and started to laugh. ‘Did you put Adrian up to that?’
Joan regarded him coolly. ‘What if I did? You would have won, and it would not have been polite. I am glad Adrian is determined to save you from eternal damnation and so agreed to intervene.’
But Geoffrey was actually more concerned with the dangers on Earth, and determined that he would carefully watch what he, Hilde and Roger ate and drank on the trip to Kermerdyn. Especially butter or potions in small bottles.
Eight
Brechene, October 1103
Unlike the journey to Goodrich, the track into Wales was dry and hard, and made for excellent riding. Geoffrey’s companions did not object to his rapid pace, although it still took longer than it should have done. Hilde and Pulchria did not slow them down, but Leah’s debilitating headaches did, and concern for her well-being forced them to stop early nearly every day. The men did not object to the shorter journeys, happy that the presence of women meant the party tended to find shelter in inns and villages, rather than under hedges or in barns.
It was a large company – Richard and Cornald each had several servants – and an ostentatious one. All six knights – Geoffrey, Roger, Sear, Alberic, Richard and Edward – wore white surcoats, and so did Gwgan. Cornald, Pulchria and Leah dressed in a way that said they were people of substance, and, with such an overt display of affluence, Geoffrey expected them to be ambushed at every turn. Richard and Gwgan almost came to unfortunate ends when an unseen attacker threw knives at them, but otherwise there was no trouble, and Geoffrey supposed the presence of so many warriors deterred casual robbers.
Within the company, meanwhile, there were more feuds and factions than Geoffrey could number, and they seemed to alter with every mile. Sear and Alberic switched back and forth from being Richard’s bosom friend to his bitter enemy with bewildering rapidity. Concurrently, Geoffrey and Edward were increasingly hard-pressed to prevent Sear and Roger from fighting. Throughout it all, Pulchria caused divisions with her assignations, and Cornald continued to give the impression that he was blithely unaware of her activities.
Delwyn annoyed everyone by complaining about the weather, the horses, the conversation and, most of all, the fact that Geoffrey had put him in charge of Abbot Mabon’s body, which was being carried on a cart. Geoffrey was glad the weather had cooled, because Goodrich had no resident embalmer. Delwyn saw to the corpse on its cart each night, but his duties were perfunctory, and he gave no indication that he grieved.
Geoffrey was pleasantly surprised by Gwgan, who transpired to be intelligent and urbane. The Welshman was delighted to discover that Geoffrey spoke his language, and encouraged him to converse as often as possible. Geoffrey liked learning languages and was more than happy to oblige. He often sought out Gwgan’s company and was even happier when Edward joined them in lively, intellectual discussions of the kind Geoffrey experienced too infrequently in his life as a soldier. They talked about Mabon’s death, too.
‘Did you ever reach any conclusions about who killed the abbot?’ Edward asked Gwgan one day, as the three rode together. He spoke Latin, as they always did when they did not want the rest of the party to eavesdrop. ‘I know you tried to investigate the matter for Prince Hywel.’
Gwgan grimaced. ‘Unfortunately not. I am inclined to discount Richard, because he is too savage to use poison. Besides, he hates the notion of killing by toxins after the way William died.’
Edward shuddered. ‘I was not at William’s deathbed, but the affair sounded terrible.’
‘It was,’ agreed Gwgan. He crossed himself suddenly, something Geoffrey had not seen him do before. ‘I was appalled by the length of time it took him to die.’
‘Days,’ said Edward, shaking his head.
Gwgan nodded slowly. ‘If William was poisoned, then his killer is evil beyond words. I am no expert in the field, but I know there are substances that can end a man’s life far more quickly and without the agonies poor William suffered.’
‘What a grim discussion!’ said Edward, after a reflective silence. ‘I should never have raised the subject of murder. Forgive me. We shall talk about Socrates instead.’
‘Only if we do not dwell on the fact that Socrates was poisoned, too,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Or the fact that he asked a lot of questions, but did not answer many.’
Gwgan laughed. ‘It sounds safer to concentrate on his philosophy.’
‘Then we shall debate a Socratic paradox,’ determined Geoffrey. ‘How about the notion that all virtue is knowledge?’
Roger disapproved of their discussions, especially as they were conducted in a language he did not understand. Meanwhile, Sear and Alberic mocked them incessantly, and Richard obviously itched to, but Leah had whispered something the first time he had started to make a disparaging remark, and he had desisted since. Geoffrey was grateful to Edward, who was blessed with a remarkable ability to keep the peace, which he achieved with unfailing cheerfulness and a battery of diplomatic interruptions.
