The Bloodstained Throne (6 page)

Philippa shot Geoffrey a smile full of invitation as she left, which had Ulfrith gaping in dismay. To allay his distress, Geoffrey suggested that he sleep at the foot of the ladder, to prevent anyone from following them. Pleased to serve Philippa, Ulfrith promptly curled around the bottom rung.

‘The rest of you will sleep in a circle around me,’ said Magnus. ‘It is your duty to protect me.’

‘I do not think so,’ said Roger, selecting a place as far away as possible. Magnus’s confident authority faltered when Geoffrey followed, leaving him with Juhel.

‘Have no fear,’ said Juhel, laughing when he saw Magnus’s distrust. ‘My chicken and I will look after you.’

‘I am uneasy here,’ Roger said to Geoffrey in a low voice, throwing his friend a blanket. ‘I distrust de Laigle and his whore wife.’

Geoffrey grimaced in distaste when he found his blanket was damp and stank of urine. He flung it away, and his dog scratched it into a suitable shape before sinking down in abject pleasure. It rested its head on its paws, but its eyes were open and its ears flicked back and forth. Geoffrey went to fetch a cleaner one, but there were only two left: one so thick with lice that they were visible even in the faint light of the candle, the other with brown stains that looked like blood. He chose the bloody one and went to lie next to Roger and Bale. ‘It is freezing, too,’ the big knight grumbled. ‘And it is only September. Another omen against your plans, Geoff. A sensible man always pays heed to the real meanings behind unseasonable weather.’

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than a distant howl sounded on the wind. The dog whimpered and Juhel’s chicken clucked and flapped in agitation.

‘That was a wolf!’ exclaimed Bale in astonishment. ‘I never expected to hear one again. They are all but gone near Goodrich.’

‘That was no wolf,’ said Roger with considerable conviction. ‘That was a fay.’

‘A fay?’ asked Geoffrey, peering at him in the darkness. ‘What is a fay?’

‘A fairy,’ replied Roger in a hoarse, meaningful whisper. ‘You know – a mysterious being. It is odd, is it not, that the moment I mention these omens, a fay should utter her eerie call?’

The animal howled a second time, and Roger and Bale both sat up.

‘She did it again,’ whispered Bale. ‘She is warning him to heed these omens.’

When the creature howled a third time, and Bale began to cross himself, Geoffrey lost patience.

‘That is a wolf, not a spirit. And omens can be interpreted in any number of ways. How do you know the signs were not telling me I
should
return to the Holy Land?’

‘Because God would not have wrecked your ship if they were,’ said Roger with finality. ‘He would have seen you safely across the water. I know what I am talking about: my father is a bishop, and your head is stuffed too full of silliness from books and scrolls.’

They were silent for a while, Geoffrey listening to the sounds of other men sleeping. Juhel lay flat on his back, seemingly asleep, but Geoffrey saw his hand edge towards his dagger when someone went to drink from a communal bucket. Juhel’s reactions were almost as finely honed as his own, and the knight wondered how a parchmenter came to be so well trained.

‘I do not want to travel any farther with our companions,’ he whispered to Roger. ‘Philippa says Juhel drowned Paisnel, and it would be rash to become involved with would-be Saxon kings.’

‘I agree,’ murmured Roger. ‘If we start early, we can be gone before they are awake.’

‘My father described this part of the coast to me – it was where he landed with the Conqueror. It is no great journey to Dover, which has ships leaving every day. I will make my way there.’

‘And do what?’ asked Roger. ‘God’s blood, it is cold in here! Move closer to me: there is a savage draught coming under that door and you will block it if you ease over a touch.’

‘And see what kind of berth I can buy. I did not want to travel through Normandy while Bellême is there, but I will do if there is no choice.’

Roger gave Geoffrey a hefty shove, to place him in the path of the gale that swept under the door. ‘And how do you propose to fund this journey? By selling your dog? He is the only thing you have left, other than your armour, and you will need that.’

‘You will lend me some,’ said Geoffrey, moving back to his previous position.

Roger sat up. ‘Normally you would be right: I would give you my last penny, as long as you promised to pay it back. But not this time. The omens—’

‘Omens!’ spat Geoffrey. ‘There are no omens. And I will not rest easy until I learn why Tancred dismissed me after so many years of faithful service. We were friends, and I do not understand why he—’

‘Because you used him badly,’ interrupted Roger. ‘You ignored his order to return to the Holy Land immediately and served another master instead. What do you expect? Would you accept Bale back after two years, during which he had repeatedly ignored
your
demands?’

‘That is not the same.’

‘Yes, it is,’ insisted Roger. ‘At the end of the day, you are Tancred’s
servant
, no matter how many times you fought at his side – or saved his life. It is time you forgot him and accepted what God has given you: fertile lands, a good wife and a sister who does all the work.’

‘I am still going,’ said Geoffrey stubbornly.

Roger sighed and lay back down again, turning on his side and pushing Geoffrey with his back until he had them both in a position where he was comfortable. ‘Then you go alone, Geoff, because I will not ignore Heaven’s wishes. Ulfrith and I will ride to Durham once we see you to Dover.’

Geoffrey’s early escape was thwarted by Roger’s fay. Shortly before dawn, it resumed howling, although much closer than before. It woke everyone, and Roger’s declaration that it was an evil spirit looking for blood was sufficiently convincing that a consensus was reached that the gate should not be opened. By the time he announced that all fays must have returned to their dark holes, the sun was shining brightly. A bank of clouds in the distance and a nip in the air indicated it would not stay fine for long, however, and even as Geoffrey watched, the waves seemed to swell in size, as if in anticipation of another tempest.

They were served a meagre breakfast of ale, gritty bread and some kind of fish that stank enough to make Geoffrey’s eyes water. His dog declined the one he tossed it, so he decided to abstain, too.

‘Give the rest to me,’ ordered Magnus. ‘They are a Saxon delicacy and too good to waste on that revolting creature. This Norman fortress may be a temple to Sodom, but at least
someone
knows how to provide a decent meal.’

‘The cows are under the hedge,’ said Juhel conversationally, pointing to where four skinny bovines huddled near a straggly line of hawthorn bushes at the far end of the bailey. ‘That means rain is in the offing.’

‘And the gulls are aiming inland,’ agreed Roger. ‘That is always a sign of a brewing storm.’ He cast a baleful eye at Geoffrey.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Juhel, intrigued by the meaningful look.

‘I mean it is a sign from God,’ said Roger. ‘He has already sent several, warning against going to the Holy Land. I imagine He thought a shipwreck would have been sufficient to prove His case, but someone continues to be obstinate, so He is obliged to summon yet another tempest.’

‘The wreck was your doing, was it?’ asked Juhel, humour gleaming in his eyes.

‘Yes,’ said Roger before Geoffrey could reply. ‘And now he is intent on going to Dover, to find another boat that he will lead to its doom.’

‘Dover?’ asked Magnus. ‘That will take you back the way we came yesterday.’

‘I suppose it will,’ said Geoffrey.

‘Then I shall come with you,’ determined Magnus. ‘I need to travel that direction myself.’

‘I thought your destination was Ribe.’ Geoffrey was reluctant to have anything to do with him.

‘No – Fingar said he would make one or two brief stops en route,’ said Magnus. ‘One of those was
my
destination.’

Geoffrey frowned. ‘He told me he had no intention of stopping anywhere.’

Juhel laughed. ‘It would have been foolish in the extreme for him to put in along the English coast, given the amount of contraband he collected in Bristol. The King’s agents would have been after him in a trice.’

Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. ‘I knew he was smuggling, but I did not know it was on the scale you are suggesting. That answers why his crew was gathering up all the wreckage.’

‘Evidence,’ explained Juhel when Roger looked puzzled. ‘They can hardly wander off leaving barrels of contraband strewn across the beach. They must destroy it first.’

‘Is that what they were doing?’ mused Roger. ‘I thought they were hoping to sell it.’

‘Pepper and sugar mixed with sea water will not fetch much,’ said Juhel. ‘And that was what was under all those Irish pelts: spices – the gold of the East.’

‘It is a good thing Lord de Laigle is away,’ said Magnus. ‘He is an efficient taxor and would have arrested the lot of us. I doubt he would have believed we were innocent.’

‘But I had no idea there were spices aboard,’ cried Roger indignantly.

‘Neither did I until we were underway,’ said Juhel. ‘Although the cheap berth did arouse my suspicions. But that is immaterial – we all would have hanged at Fingar’s side had we been caught.’

‘I thought you dealt in parchment – a lucrative commodity,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Why should you seek out a cheap berth?’

Juhel winced. ‘Business was poor this year, and I am short of funds. Paisnel was able to pay for my passage, as well as his own, by opting for Fingar’s ship. What about you? Are you trying to evade justice?’

‘No!’ exclaimed Geoffrey, startled. ‘We just wanted a route that would not involve journeying through Bellême’s territory.’

Juhel nodded understanding. ‘He is a bad enemy, and I am fortunate that he likes me. But I may accompany you to Dover, too. Now poor Paisnel is dead I have two reasons for reaching Ribe: to make arrangements with Danish leather sellers
and
to deliver Paisnel’s dispatches to the Bishop. Paisnel was devoted to his prelate and would have wanted me to complete his work.’

‘I am leaving today,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But I am used to travelling quickly in unfavourable conditions. You should wait for better weather, then join a larger party.’

‘
I
cannot wait,’ objected Magnus. ‘I want Sir Roger to escort me to an abbey that stands nearby. It is no more than ten miles from here.’

‘Do you mean the abbey that was built after the battle?’ asked Geoffrey. His father had told him how the Conqueror had ordered a fine monastery to be founded on the spot where so many men had died. It had been a decision rooted in self-interest: the shocked Church was appeased over the terrible bloodshed, and it meant there were plenty of monks to pray for the souls of those who had died, lest the battle was held against the instigator on Judgement Day.

Magnus nodded. ‘There are a number of Saxon villages surrounding the abbey, and I will be safe there until I decide my next move. You will appreciate that, as the true claimant to the crown, I did not intend to be washed up in England with little more than my clothes.’

‘I shall come with you,’ said Juhel. ‘It would be prudent to pay for a mass, to give thanks for our deliverance. I do not want to experience another violent storm.’

‘I shall do the same,’ said Edith, coming to join them. ‘We are lucky to be alive, and I want God to know I am grateful. Philippa and I will travel with you to the abbey.’

‘We are not going there,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Roger is going home, and I am going to Dover.’

‘Actually, Geoff, I think we should, so we can purchase masses, too,’ said Roger. ‘And if you want to borrow money for your journey to the Holy Land, you must come with us – it is my condition for lending it to you.’

Geoffrey was unimpressed by Roger’s stipulation, although he did appreciate that they had had a narrow escape. He just wished Roger would simply let him say a few prayers in a church along the way instead.

However, his displeasure was nothing compared to that of Philippa and Edith when they learned that Lord de Laigle’s wife – somewhat fragile that morning – had offered to keep them at Pevenesel until their kin could collect them. Geoffrey accepted the offer with alacrity. Ulfrith was distraught, and Roger disappointed, especially as Edith’s irritation from the previous day seemed to have dissipated. She appealed to him to persuade Geoffrey to allow them to go to the abbey instead.

‘They will be no trouble, Geoff,’ wheedled Roger. ‘And it will please Ulfrith. He is like a moonstruck calf with Philippa.’

‘She will never submit to the charms of a squire, and they will have to be parted sooner or later,’ said Geoffrey, unmoved. ‘It is better to do it before matters get out of hand.’

‘Then I will make it a condition of your loan,’ countered Roger craftily. ‘Either we take the ladies or I will not lend you the money.’

‘Then I will manage without it,’ said Geoffrey, suspecting there would be an ongoing set of provisos if he did not take a stand.

Roger glared. ‘You will find that difficult.’

‘But not impossible. There will be some merchant or pilgrim who will accept me as a guide or protector. It is a long and dangerous journey, and I have made it several times. Someone will pay my passage in return for my skills.’

‘Unlikely,’ said Juhel with one of his cheery grins. ‘You look far too disreputable. We all know what kind of men went on the Crusade, and you appear to be one of the rougher ones. Your surcoat is stained with blood, and your armour has clearly seen too much use to be respectable.’

Geoffrey stared at him. ‘I am a soldier – of course it has seen plenty of use. And these stains are not blood, but rust. Bale left my shield lying on top of it.’

‘I think you are very handsome,’ said Philippa, sidling up to him. ‘You have beautiful eyes and you are not badly scarred like many warriors. All you need is a good wash and some clean clothes, and you will be an Adonis.’