‘Or perhaps he is just a decent man. They do occur from time to time.’
‘Not in my experience,’ said Delwyn. ‘Of course, if Hywel is naturally godly, then it means William hid his secret well. I have searched Rhydygors thoroughly and found no sign of it.’
It was distasteful listening to the gossip of such a man, and Geoffrey cursed the King for obliging him to do so.
‘Tell me who visited William when he was dying,’ he instructed.
‘Virtually the entire town. Most doubtless came to pay their respects to a fine man, and there was certainly a lot of weeping. They included Robert the steward, Osmund the stationer…’
The list continued for some time, and Geoffrey began to despair of ever finding the culprit, when his list of suspects was expanding into the dozens.
‘The only people not there were Alberic and Edward, who were out on patrol – and they really did leave Kermerdyn, because twenty soldiers were able to confirm their alibi. I checked.’
‘You suspected them?’
‘I suspect everyone. The other person who cannot be a suspect is Leah. She had a fever and could not leave her bed. Her physician confirms the tale, and so does her health – she has never fully recovered and remains frail.’
‘Tell me about the day William was taken ill. You were talking to the Bishop in the kitchens where the rancid butter was. Why? I thought your abbey was at war with Wilfred.’
‘ Mabon was at war with the Bishop,’ replied Delwyn. ‘If you must know, I was offering Wilfred information about the abbey in an attempt to bring Mabon down. It is not healthy for the Church to indulge in internal squabbles. I acted as my conscience dictated.’
‘You betrayed the man you said you loved as a father?’ asked Geoffrey.
Delwyn’s face creased into a sneer. ‘I did love him like a father – it just so happens that I hated my sire, damn his evil soul.’
‘Go away, Delwyn,’ said Geoffrey in distaste. ‘You cannot speak without lying and scheming, and I am sick of it. Stand back!’
‘I stand where I like,’ declared Delwyn. ‘It is not for you to-’
The rest of his sentence was lost as Geoffrey shoved him in the chest, bowling him from his feet and dropping into a fighting stance as he did so, sword in one hand and dagger in the other. Seeing him, Roger kicked out his fire and flew to his side. Sear and Alberic were not far behind, and Edward leapt to his feet with an uneasy whimper. Cornald grabbed his bow.
‘What is it?’ whispered Roger, silencing Delwyn’s outraged spluttering with a glare.
‘Someone is out there,’ replied Geoffrey softly.
Sear relaxed. ‘It will be one of the villagers checking on their animals – or checking we are not stealing their wretched pigs. You saw how unwilling they were to house us-’
He stopped speaking when an arrow thudded into the door above his head.
With a wild cry, Sear launched himself into the night, Roger and Alberic at his heels. Geoffrey was more concerned with defence than attack: the arrow was alight, and the intention was clearly to set the barn ablaze and incinerate everyone within. He raced for the bucket of water the villagers had provided, and dashed it over the flames, but they had no more sizzled out before another fire-arrow took its place.
‘There!’ said Hilde, stabbing a finger in the direction from which the missile had sailed. ‘Go and stop him, Geoff. I will deal with the fire.’
Geoffrey did not waste time arguing. He sped across the darkened yard, jerking back when another flaming arrow passed so close to him that he felt its heat sear his face. Then he was among a pile of broken barrels, and two shadows, both carrying bows, were running away. He hared after them, but they were fleet-footed and terrified, and mail-clad Norman knights were not built for speed. He managed to jab one with his outstretched sword, but his companion whipped around with his bow. Geoffrey staggered as it caught him in the face, and lost momentum, which was just enough time for the pair to escape into the surrounding woods.
‘They were too fast for us,’ said Roger, coming to join him a moment later. ‘But they were soldiers of a sort – they wore leather jerkins, or at least two of them would be dead.’
‘Three,’ said Geoffrey. Armour explained why his jab had done so little damage.
‘Sear and Alberic are scouting the woods,’ said Roger. ‘We should help them.’
Geoffrey obliged, and by the time they converged to report that the attackers had gone, Hilde had doused the flames and was kneeling next to Edward, whose face was contorted with pain.
‘It is not serious,’ she was saying. ‘The arrow has just scored a furrow in your arm. Clean water and a little salve will see it right in a day or two.’
‘Well, it hurts,’ said Edward weakly. ‘I was not built for this kind of thing.’
‘And I was not built to be knocked around by bullying knights,’ said Delwyn to Geoffrey. ‘You did not have to shove me quite so hard. I shall have another bruise tomorrow.’
‘He should not have shoved you at all,’ said Cornald, his face uncharacteristically cool. ‘And then you might be lying here instead of Edward.’
‘This would not have happened if my troops had been here,’ said Edward. ‘We would have posted guards, and robbers would have come nowhere near us.’
‘Your rabble?’ asked Richard unpleasantly. ‘I doubt they would have made any difference. They are not as good as my men.’
‘You were very brave, Edward,’ said Pulchria kindly. ‘Your quick thinking in shutting the door saved us all; those archers would have had arrows in us otherwise.’
‘It is true, sir,’ said Bale to Geoffrey. ‘Several bowmen appeared near the door when you dashed after the others, and I ran towards them, but Sir Edward shoved the door closed, so they could not fire in on us. They would have killed me, Richard, Gwgan and the ladies, and he took an arrow protecting us.’
‘Were they the same ones who ambushed us earlier?’ asked Cornald.
‘I could not tell,’ said Gwgan. His face was white, and he looked as though he might be sick. ‘They were just shadows. I am sorry I was useless, Geoffrey. These pains in my innards make it difficult to stand, let alone fight.’
‘What did they want?’ asked Edward shakily. ‘Burning down the barn was not sensible; anything of value would have been consumed in the flames, along with us.’
‘Not if we dashed outside to escape, carrying our fortunes with us,’ Roger pointed out. ‘I imagine the aim was to have us all silhouetted by the flames, so we could be picked off.’
‘Strange,’ mused Gwgan. ‘Surely, they would have questioned the villagers first and learned that we carry a dead abbot in the coffin, not treasure. Unless they are interested in the butter-making equipment Cornald bought in Brechene.’
‘They might be,’ said Cornald. ‘It was expensive. And do not deceive yourself that robbers are only interested in gold and jewellery. Our country is poor, and even a decent cloak is a worthy prize to many men.’
‘ Were they the same men?’ asked Roger in an undertone to Geoffrey.
Geoffrey nodded. ‘Yes, I think so.’
‘I was bored travelling between La Batailge and Brechene,’ said Roger with a rather diabolical grin. ‘But things are definitely picking up. I love a decent skirmish.’
‘Well, I hope it is not going to happen every few hours,’ said Geoffrey tiredly. ‘Because it will be a very long journey, if so.’
‘Aye lad,’ said Roger. ‘But what fun!’
Nine
Lanothni, Near Kermerdyn, Late October 1103
It was the end of another glorious day. The setting sun was a glowing amber ball in a haze of blue sky and salmon-tinged clouds, which presaged well for the morning. A blackbird sang somewhere in the forest, its voice a clear, clean trill above the lower murmur of the river, and the air was rich with the scent of damp earth and fallen
