‘He is already asleep,’ said Durand resentfully. ‘He declared we would be safe, then lay down and started snoring as though he had not a care in the world. He did not even wait until I had finished my supper, and then I had to . . . you know.’
Geoffrey did not. ‘What?’
‘Slip outside to water the trees,’ whispered Durand primly, although there was no one to overhear. ‘He might have stayed awake to ensure I got back in once piece.’
Geoffrey shrugged. ‘Serlo has nothing to fear in these woods.’
‘It is not Serlo I am worried about,’ said Durand fervently. ‘
Geoffrey took pity on him. ‘Do you want to come to Goodrich tonight?’
‘There is nothing I would like more, but Serlo does not like being woken once he is sleeping. I would rather let the old bear rest than have him grumbling.’
‘Then visit me tomorrow,’ suggested Geoffrey. ‘But how did you escape the charge of theft levelled against you in Winchester? Your letters outlined your rise in fortunes, but they did not mention that.’
Durand gave one of his superior smiles. ‘I was accused of stealing equipment from a mint and trying to sell it. However, I proved myself innocent. The man who reported me identified me by my hair. So, I bundled it inside a cap and challenged him to pick me out of a crowd. He could not, and I was exonerated. Then I heard about a series of thefts from the royal kitchens, so I decided to look into them. I watched you enough to know how to go about it, and had the riddle solved in a week.’
‘I have never investigated thefts.’
‘You have looked into murders, and one crime is much like another. The King was delighted when I presented him with the culprits. He was so pleased that he agreed to employ me as an agent. He is trusting me with more and more important matters.’
‘Do you like the work?’
Durand grimaced. ‘It is good to own the favour of the King, but I am obliged to deal with some very unsavoury characters – mainly powerful nobles who try to cheat him. I am often in danger. At least when I was with you, I knew you would protect me. These days I have no one.’
‘You can always hire guards.’
Durand raised his eyebrows hopefully. ‘Will you oblige? I do not want
Geoffrey laughed at the man’s audacity. ‘You expect
Durand’s face was earnest. ‘I was thinking more of a partnership – I would do the thinking, while you manage the dangerous parts. Between us, we would be a formidable team.’
‘It is a tempting offer,’ said Geoffrey, still laughing. ‘But I must decline.’
‘Why?’ demanded Durand. ‘Because you do not want to be in the King’s service? You are deluding yourself if you think you will resist him forever. Tancred no longer wants you, and you will turn to King Henry sooner or later, simply out of desperation.’
Was that true? It was possible, given that Geoffrey was already restless. Like Durand, he had developed a talent for investigating crimes and, although the cases he explored had been perilous, there had been something exhilarating about them.
‘Well?’ demanded Durand. ‘Come work with me. We will make a fortune.’
Geoffrey mounted his horse. Neither withering away at Goodrich nor working for the King held any appeal, but combining forces with the devious Durand was an appalling prospect, and not one he would consider in a hundred years. ‘It is a generous offer, but I must refuse.’
‘You are leaving?’ asked Durand in horror.
‘What do you expect me to do?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Stand guard outside your hut while you sleep?’
‘That is an excellent idea,’ said Durand gratefully. ‘No one will dare attack when there is a ruffian like you lurking outside.’
‘Good night, Durand,’ said Geoffrey, laughing.
‘Please!’ cried Durand, agitated. ‘Will you abandon an old friend in the middle of a hostile forest? I am no longer a servant; I am an important man. I own several manors in Suffolk – the King gave them to me as a mark of his esteem.’
Geoffrey raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘The King gave you land?’
Durand nodded. ‘My estates are almost as large as Goodrich. I am your equal now.’
Geoffrey was impressed that his old squire had made his fortune so quickly, and saw that he should not have been sceptical of Durand’s letters. He had indeed risen rapidly, and, if he was trusted to explore issues pertaining to taxation, it meant the King liked him. It would not be long before Durand was a force to be reckoned with.
‘Then I wish you well of it,’ he said. ‘But Serlo is right: there are no outlaws in this part of the forest. You are perfectly safe.’
Durand did not look convinced, but Geoffrey had no intention of spending the night away from the fire and warm bed at Goodrich. He raised his hand in salute and rode away. When he glanced behind him, he saw Durand standing alone and unhappy, and suspected he would sleep poorly. But Durand would survive. He always did.
Three
Geoffrey spent another restless day at Goodrich, as Olivier pored over accounts and Joan issued orders. He offered to help Olivier – he was good with figures – but his brother-in-law pointedly suggested that Geoffrey might like to exercise his horse. With nothing else to do, Geoffrey tried to gain information about Henry from the servants, but they were wary and uncommunicative, and his attempts failed miserably. He had been a popular leader in Tancred’s service, and his amiable, easy temper meant people usually liked him. But at Goodrich, only Joan and Olivier seemed pleased he was there. He wondered why. Was it because the servants thought he might be like Henry? Or because they were afraid he might find his brother’s killer among them?
In the afternoon he splashed across the Wye ford, his dog at his side, and rode through the woods until he saw Bicanofre in the distance. Its little church huddled into the hillside, and its motte and bailey dominated the cluster of houses around it. Two women whom Joan had identified as potential wives lived there – Eleanor and Douce – and since he did not want to seem to be paying them court, he turned back, following the way he had come.
When he reached the ford again, a man with long, curly hair and a thin face was swearing furiously at some men for miring his cart in the shallows. Geoffrey could see from their resentful eyes that his fury was not helping. He supposed the foul-mouthed fellow was one of his new neighbours.
‘May I help?’ he offered politely.
The cart’s back wheels were fast in sticky mud, and the only way to extract them would involve some hard pushing. It would mean standing waist-deep in water, and Geoffrey was not enthusiastic about the idea, but in the interests of good relations . . .
‘Mind your own business,’ snapped the man.
Geoffrey touched his heels to his horse’s sides and continued on. When he reached a bend in the path, he glanced back and saw them still struggling, the thin man lashing the nags with a stick. The fellow could have been of more use by helping his men push, and Geoffrey felt sorry for the bewildered horses. But it was not his place to interfere. He cantered back to Goodrich, stopping on the way to visit Helbye. He drank some ale – although he was careful not to overindulge this time – and interrupted Helbye’s eulogy about his prize sow to tell him about meeting Durand.
‘So, Durand is reviewing taxes for the King,’ mused Helbye. ‘Well, he always was better at clerking than fighting.’
‘He asked me to work with him, to undertake the dangerous parts of his investigations.’
Helbye grimaced. ‘Doing the King’s dirty work involves meeting some very evil men, and he is right to want someone trustworthy. But not you: you must stay here and provide us with an heir.’
