B0078XH7HQ EBOK (12 page)

He growled at the boy. ‘All right, what is it? This had better be good.’

Simon started to talk, but then looked around at the others in the hall, and with a burst of what might even have been tact – the boy really was starting to grow up – he beckoned the knight outside before spilling his news.

‘My lord sent me for you, Sir Geoffrey. It’s the visiting earl – he’s
dead
!’

The knight struggled to take this in. His head was still pounding. The boy couldn’t possibly have said what he thought he’d heard. ‘What?’

Simon tried again, speaking more slowly. ‘The visiting earl, Sir Geoffrey. He’s dead. On the roof of the keep. His squire came to tell us and my lord sent me to find you.’

‘De Courteville? Dead? You mean,
dead
?’

‘Yes, Sir Geoffrey.’

‘Here, on the roof of the keep, dead?’

‘Yes, Sir Geoffrey.’

‘De Courteville?’

Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, Sir Geoffrey. My lord sent me to fetch you. Perhaps we should hurry.’ Sir Geoffrey felt his arm being tugged, and he allowed the page to lead him towards the keep.

By the time they reached the main door he’d regained some of his faculties. Could the news possibly be true? Could there have been a mistake? The earl would surely not have sent Simon with such a message if it were not true. He continued up the stairs, past the door to the council chamber and the chapel. There he stopped: Martin and one of the men-at-arms were inside, standing over a board and some trestles which they’d obviously just erected. Next to them on the floor lay the figure of a man, covered with a cloth. Sir Geoffrey stepped inside and looked down at the shrouded body for a long moment, taking in the shape and what he could see of the clothes. It was true, then. He could feel no sympathy for the man: he’d known too much about him to waste his feelings on such a devil. But the Lord only knew what the implications for the earl could be once the regent found out. This was going to spell trouble for them all.

Martin saw Sir Geoffrey and Simon passing, and left Berold to deal with the body while he strode up the stairs behind them. Robert had already got back to the council chamber and was telling his lord that the news was definitely true; he mentioned the wound on the man’s neck and said that he’d probably had his throat slit. Martin shivered at the thought of the body he’d seen, and tried to control his heaving stomach.

The earl reacted quickly to the news, sending Robert out immediately to the gate to tell the guards there to let nobody in or out until further notice, and telling the boy Adam, now sufficiently recovered, to wake de Courteville’s brother. The earl’s lip curled in contempt as he mentioned the name, and Martin wondered whether the man who hadn’t been allowed to marry the Lady Isabelle was now an earl in his own right. He took Simon by the shoulder and pulled him over to stand next to him while the earl conferred with Sir Geoffrey. Simon was pale and Martin kept his arm ready in case it should be needed to steady the boy.

As soon as Robert returned, the earl ordered Simon to shut the door and turned to them all. He looked perfectly in control of himself, and Martin wondered how he’d managed to assume such command so quickly. He supposed it probably came naturally to the high nobility.

The earl summarised in a few clipped phrases. ‘As we all now know, the earl of Sheffield is dead. He was found early this morning on the roof of the keep. His throat had been cut, so he was almost certainly murdered.’ The others all looked at him, and at each other, in complete silence as he spoke again. ‘This is, of course, going to cause problems with the campaign.’ He took a deep breath and counted off on his fingers. ‘Firstly, the regent is not going to be pleased to find out that one of his most important supporters is dead. Secondly, he may blame me for this, as it happened on my estates when the earl should have been under my protection. And thirdly, let us not forget that we have a large number of the earl’s men encamped around the castle now under the command of a man who is, at best, unstable.’ The earl still seemed in remarkable control, but Sir Geoffrey looked sombre, and Robert and Simon both wore slightly dazed expressions. The earl stopped to pour himself some wine, and slopped it all over his hand.

He stared at it for a moment, and then put the cup and the jug down carefully before continuing, wiping his hand on the side of his tunic. ‘As far as I can see, the best thing to do would be to find out as soon as possible who has committed this crime, prove that it has nothing to do with us, and present the culprit to the regent for punishment when we muster at Newark.’ It sounded so simple.

The earl looked at them all one by one. ‘Now, how best to deploy my troops?’ He turned to Sir Geoffrey. ‘You will have to take overall control of this matter. I put it in your charge until it is resolved.’

Sir Geoffrey didn’t look happy. ‘But my lord, surely I should stay at your side? There is a killer on the loose with who knows what motives, and what if he should try to murder you next? You will need someone to watch your back.’

The earl paused for a moment before replying. ‘That may be true, but I will stand by my decision. With all the extra people around you will be needed more than ever to keep control of the garrison and the men. I can take care of myself, and besides …’ his gaze swept over Simon and paused briefly on Martin before settling on Robert, ‘I will keep Robert by me to act as my bodyguard, should the need arise.’ He looked directly at his squire. ‘Are you up to the task?’

Robert seemed struck dumb by emotion, but he nodded fervently.

There was silence for a moment before Sir Geoffrey raised another query.

‘My lord, surely one of the most important features of presenting the culprit to the regent is that it should be seen to be the right culprit? Is there not some danger here that he will think that you have simply ordered me to place the blame on some wretch, and that he will still suspect you?’

The earl considered. ‘There is something in that. But the sheriff is too far away, and by the time he could get here it will be too late. We must leave for Newark as planned. Besides, he will only want to start talking about taxes again, damn him …’ He paused. ‘No, it will have to be someone who’s already close at hand. Not you then, although you could still remain in
de facto
charge of the operation. We need someone else to investigate, someone to appear impartial, someone of experience … aha!’ He and Sir Geoffrey both looked up at each other at the same time, the earl snapping his fingers. ‘By law, any crime committed on my estates comes under the jurisdiction of the bailiff, does it not? So he needs to be the one to investigate.’ He folded his arms. ‘Have Godric Weaver fetched here.’ He was turning away when he caught the knight’s gesture. ‘What is it?’

‘Godric Weaver is ailing, my lord, and has not performed his duties as bailiff for several months.’

The earl seemed taken aback. Martin wondered how he could be unaware of the information: Godric Weaver had been the bailiff as long as he could remember, and the absence of the familiar figure bustling around the castle and estates was all too noticeable. His lord sighed. ‘I should remind myself of the advice my father once gave me, to pay attention to the running of my estates and the people who run them, lest I arrive back from a campaign or a visit to court to find financial ruin. I’ll have to make more of an effort. So, who has been standing in for him?’

‘His son Edwin, my lord.’

‘Edwin?’ The earl screwed up his face. ‘The sandy-haired lad? Is he up to the task?’

Sir Geoffrey considered the question before answering, slowly. ‘I believe so, my lord. So far he’s been an admirable acting bailiff, and …’ he paused, ‘… and to be honest, my lord, he’s easily the cleverest person in Conisbrough. In fact, he’s almost certainly the cleverest person I have ever met. In addition, I’ve known him since he was a child; he’s loyal to you, and I have faith in him.’ Martin was shocked – he’d never heard such praise issuing from the stern knight. But, thinking about it, it was probably the truth.

The earl took a long look at the captain of his household. But the knight’s gaze did not waver, and finally the earl nodded. He spoke again. ‘So be it. Summon Edwin Weaver.’

Edwin was dreaming.

It was a pleasant dream, although afterwards he could not remember any of the details, only that it had been peaceful and nice and he had felt calm as he slept. It was the first undisturbed night’s sleep he had enjoyed for many a night. It ended when he felt himself being shaken awake by rough hands. Robert was standing over him, whispering urgently as he came around. He struggled to focus, and realised that it was already light – he must have slept for much longer than usual. What was Robert doing here? In the background his mother was hovering, looking worried.

Edwin finally surfaced from the waves of sleep and became aware of the concern on his friend’s face. ‘Father?’

Robert whispered again. ‘No, not your father, Edwin, he’s still asleep. I came to get you because the earl wants to see you.’

That woke him up. His heart lurched. ‘The earl? Me? Why?’

‘Because you’re the bailiff, or as good as.’ He saw Robert look round at his mother. ‘There has been … some trouble up at the keep, and the earl wants to see you. Now.’

Edwin threw off his blanket and scrabbled around for his clothes. The earl wanted to see him. The earl. He put his shirt on the wrong way round. He took it off and put it on again. He’d seen the earl many times in his life before, of course, but only at some distance, as a figure at the high table in the hall or on the back of one of his fine horses. But actually to stand in front of him, to have been especially summoned into his presence, that was something different. He was suddenly acutely aware that his tunic had a rip in the shoulder, and was neither new nor particularly clean, and he brushed ineffectually at his front, looking helplessly at his mother.

Robert was hurrying him. ‘Come on! There’s no time to find something else, my lord doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ He grabbed Edwin’s arm and virtually dragged him to the door. ‘Mistress Anne, I’m sorry to cause a fuss, I’ll explain it to you later, but we have to go!’ He shoved Edwin outside and banged the door shut behind them. As they hurried through the village Edwin tried to get some details from his friend, but Robert refused to elaborate, saying that the earl would explain himself. Edwin tried to think – if the earl wanted to see him personally, it must be something very important, more than just a brawl between soldiers. What could possibly be that bad? A few ideas ran through his head, each worse than the last, and looking at Robert’s grim face did not help. A tide of panic threatened to engulf him and by the time they reached the keep he was breathless as much from apprehension as from the speed of their approach. Robert took the stairs two at a time, and all too quickly Edwin was standing outside the door of the earl’s council chamber. He gulped.

Robert raised his hand to the door but then stopped and turned to him, taking him by the shoulders. ‘Now listen. Don’t fret, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re here because the earl needs something doing, and Sir Geoffrey said you were the best man to do it.’

Edwin was stunned. ‘Sir Geoffrey said that about me?’

‘Yes. In fact he said that you were probably the cleverest person he had ever met.’

‘What?’

Robert slapped him on the back. ‘If Sir Geoffrey says it, then it must be right. So, hold your head up and look at me.’ Edwin complied. ‘Now take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Are you ready?’

Edwin nodded as Robert knocked on the door, opened it, and ushered him in.