Deadly Inheritance

The mention of his brother re-lit her impetus, but blind fury was no replacement for skill, and he soon had her retreating again. He was obliged to keep a wary eye on her men, as they jabbed their blades at him if he went too close. He wondered what would happen when he killed her, certain that he did not have the strength to defeat them all, too.

‘Hurry up, Corwenna!’ snapped Durand. ‘I have done what you asked, and I want my reward.’

‘You opened the gate!’ spat Geoffrey in disgust, thinking about the speed with which their defences had failed. ‘How could you?’

‘I did what was best for me,’ replied Durand. ‘I was promised a sack of silver for opening the gate, and another if I delivered you alive.’

‘You should watch whom you trust,’ Geoffrey said to Corwenna, as she retreated to the far side of the room and the temporary safety of her men. ‘Durand killed Seguin.’

‘I did not,’ said Durand, a sudden tremor in his voice. ‘Do not accuse me-’

Corwenna lunged at Geoffrey, and for a few moments his attention was concentrated on parrying her blows. Although delivered with great venom and strength, they lacked the requisite skill to break him. He held her at arm’s length until the fury of her attack subsided, then kicked her legs from under her so she fell. Her men again stepped forward protectively, and all Geoffrey could do was step back and try to catch his breath. His sword felt slippery and heavy in his aching hands.

‘Like the King, you saw Baderon pay Jervil,’ said Geoffrey to Durand while Corwenna was recuperating. ‘You are greedy and you gave Jervil drugged wine to celebrate his sale, then strangled him. You have strangled men before – you killed a monk last year in the forest near Westminster – and I should have seen immediately that you were the culprit.’

‘You are speaking nonsense,’ said Durand, glancing nervously towards Corwenna.

Geoffrey continued, noticing he had Corwenna’s reluctant attention. ‘I assumed Jervil died first and Margaret second, but I was wrong. Isabel killed Margaret, then fled, appalled by what she had done. But you had watched her, and it gave you an idea.’

‘You cannot prove I killed anyone,’ hissed Durand.

‘Oh, the knife you planted on Jervil’s body does that. You were the one who drew attention to it, but you could not have seen it from where you were standing – it was covered with straw. I was kneeling right next to him, and I could not see it. The only way you could have known was if you put it there yourself. And the knife was in his wrong hand. Only someone like you, who knows nothing about fighting, would shove a dagger in a right-fisted fighter’s left hand.’

Durand glanced at Corwenna. ‘Hurry, woman.’

‘In my own time,’ said Corwenna. ‘I am interested in what he has to say about Seguin.’ She heaved her axe on to her shoulder and indicated that Geoffrey should continue.

‘Baderon thought the Black Knife was destroyed in the fire. But it had been stolen before that. I met Durand running from the guest house during the fire. But he should not have been there: he was supposed to have been with Abbot Serlo above the buttery – in the opposite direction.’

‘Everything was in chaos,’ said Durand dismissively. ‘You could not tell where I-’

‘He grabbed the Black Knife and was cut,’ Geoffrey went on. ‘He told me he had been burnt, but later claimed it was a gash. They are not similar injuries. That is why he gave me his gloves – the injury meant he could not wear them anyway.’

‘All this is fascinating,’ said Corwenna caustically. ‘But I want to know about Seguin.’

‘Durand killed Hugh before he murdered Seguin,’ Geoffrey continued, trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice. ‘He knocked him on the head to stun him, then strangled him. The Black Knife was thrust into his corpse to cause trouble between Goodrich and Baderon. It succeeded.’

‘Seguin!’ snapped Corwenna, growing impatient. ‘Lambert said you killed him, because you thought he killed Henry.’

‘Seguin did not kill Henry,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I have known for some time who did that, and it was not Seguin. Seguin was lured to his death, just as Lambert claimed. But not by me.’

‘Shut up!’ yelled Durand furiously. He turned to Corwenna again. ‘Kill him, for God’s sake.’

‘Who carried the message to Llan Martin, telling Seguin that Hugh’s body was at Goodrich and that Baderon wanted it collected?’ asked Geoffrey.

Corwenna’s eyes flicked towards Durand. ‘He did.’

‘I was told to give Seguin that message!’ shouted Durand. ‘And I was told Hugh was at Goodrich. You cannot blame me for passing on what I was ordered to say.’

‘Think,’ said Geoffrey to Corwenna. ‘Why would Baderon tell Seguin to collect Hugh, when he was here himself? And why would he send for Seguin and not a servant? And why would Durand – who owns estates in Suffolk – allow himself to be used as a messenger by a man he despised?’

‘Geoffrey told me to give Seguin the message!’ cried Durand, eyes flashing. ‘And now he is trying to make you think the murder was my fault. Who do you believe? The man who slaughtered Seguin? Or the man who opened the gate for you?’

When put like that, Geoffrey saw that he was not in a strong pos-ition. He hurried to resume his tale, hoping Durand would yet incriminate himself in his increasing panic. ‘When Father Adrian left to fetch Seguin some ale, Durand crept into the house and stabbed him.’

‘How?’ sneered Durand. ‘Do I look like a man who could take on a strong, well-armed knight? Of course not! Nor do I stab folk as they sit at tables.’

‘See?’ pounced Geoffrey. ‘How could he know Seguin was at a table unless he was the killer?’

‘I saw the body,’ snapped Durand. ‘Later, after Father Adrian had raised the alarm.’

‘You did not,’ countered Geoffrey. ‘You were outside the whole time, while Father Adrian was sick.’

‘You killed Seguin!’ shouted Durand accusingly. ‘You lured him to Goodrich by ordering me to fetch him, and you stabbed him because you thought he murdered Henry.’ He looked at Corwenna, his face pale and covered in sweat. ‘He told me so, late one night, when he had too much ale.’

‘Do not worry, Durand,’ said Corwenna, patting the clerk’s shoulder. ‘I believe you.’

‘Jervil, Hugh and Seguin,’ said Geoffrey to Durand. ‘You tried to kill me, too – it was you who started the fire in the mattress. I probably even gave you the idea, since Bale saving me from the blaze at Dene was one of the last things we talked about before I fell asleep.’

Durand was disdainful. ‘I saved your life, and now you accuse me of trying to burn you alive.’

‘You woke me because Joan came. If she had not, you would have succeeded. But that was your second attempt. The first was with the damaged straps and the spikes in Dun’s saddle. You hoped I would break my neck riding him in the forest.’

‘I wish you had,’ muttered Durand fervently.

‘No more!’ roared Corwenna. ‘Fight me, Geoffrey, and stop blathering.’

‘If I win, will you leave Goodrich?’ he asked.

‘You will not win,’ she snarled, swinging her axe in a series of fancy manoeuvres that made the air sing. Geoffrey jumped out of the way, but stumbled when one of her men tripped him. Before he regained his balance, another kicked him in the knee. He barely avoided Corwenna’s axe as it plummeted down, splitting one of the tables.

Geoffrey went on the offensive again, his blows forcing Corwenna back against the wall. Her men moved to help her, so he feinted left and reached out to grab her by the neck, dropping his sword as he did so. Then he her pulled close against him, his dagger at her throat. She struggled furiously, gouging his hand with her fingernails. He intensified his grip, pressing his knife into her exposed skin.

She sagged in defeat. ‘I surrender. Let me go, you have made your point.’

‘No!’ cried Durand in horror. ‘You cannot let him win! What will happen to me? I will hang for Seguin’s murder and for trying to dispatch Geoffrey.’

Corwenna ignored him. ‘You heard that worm, Geoffrey,’ she said. ‘He admitted murdering Seguin. Let us bring an end to this bloodshed. Let me go.’

Geoffrey lowered his dagger, although he did not relinquish it. Corwenna eased his hand away from her