Joan Wolf - The Poisoned Serpent

Hugh ignored him and said to the justiciar, “My lord, the king has charged you with finding and punishing the man who murdered the Earl of Lincoln. I can give you that man if you will allow me to proceed.”

The chief justiciar’s narrowed black eyes were trained on Hugh. Bernard turned around to look at the witnesses assembled on the benches behind him, and found that they too were totally focused on Hugh.

It was a thing that Bernard had seen before, but still it amazed him, this ability of Hugh’s to dominate a room. It was not his words, it was something in him, some quality in his very existence, intangible yet absolutely commanding.

The chief justiciar said, “Give me a reason why Sir Richard Canville should desire the demise of the Earl of Lincoln.” And Bernard knew that he was going to let Hugh continue.

Hugh said, “My lord, I have witnesses present who will testify to the fact that the amount of money the sheriff was charging for the market stalls in the Bail was more than the amount of money he declared to the Exchequer. I believe that the Earl of Lincoln discovered this cheat and was killed in order to keep him from exposing it.”

Pandemonium erupted behind Bernard. The chief justiciar shouted angrily for silence, and slowly the noise died away.

The justiciar turned to look at the sheriff, who was sitting beside him. “How do you answer this charge, Sir Gervase?”

The sheriff’s face was as bloodless as a corpse. When he spoke, his voice was not quite steady. “Lord Hugh’s information is correct, my lord, but my son knew nothing about the cheat. I am the responsible party.”

The room was deadly silent.

Hugh said, “Are you speaking the truth, Sir Gervase, or are you lying to protect your son?”

“It is the truth,” the sheriff said. “I will swear to it on a relic of the Holy Cross if you wish. Richard only discovered what I was doing two days ago. He was…very upset about it.”

“Did the Earl of Lincoln discover this cheat?” the chief justiciar asked.

“Nay, my lord, he did not.” The sheriff’s voice was emphatic. “Lord Gilbert never once asked to look at the tax rolls. His interest was in my military preparations. He knew nothing at all about the tax cheat.”

“Can you prove this?” the justiciar asked.

“I believe I can, my lord. The only way the earl could have found out about the cheat was if he asked the Bail merchants what they were paying and then checked that sum against the tax rolls. I believe if you question the merchants you will discover that the earl made no such inquiries.”

Lord Richard Basset nodded. Then he turned to Hugh. “The Crown thanks you for calling its attention to this matter, Lord Hugh, but I agree with Sir Gervase that it is highly unlikely that the Earl of Lincoln would have discovered it. Which means that neither Sir Gervase nor Sir Richard had any reason to wish the Earl of Lincoln dead.”

Bernard felt sick to his stomach. The whole of Hugh’s case hinged on Richard’s motive of wishing to hide the tax cheat. If it was true that the earl had not known of it, then Richard had no reason at all to kill him.

Hugh said, “If you will allow me to continue to present my evidence, my lord, I promise you that I will establish Sir Richard’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.” The soft intensity of his voice echoed through the silent room.

Give it up, lad , Bernard urged Hugh in his mind. Don’t make yourself look any more petty than you already have .

Leaning back a little in his chair, the chief justiciar yielded before the will of the younger man. “Very well, Lord Hugh. You may proceed.”

Hugh turned to Richard and said, “Were you one of the men in the pileup where John Rye was killed?”

“I was, along with thirty other men.” Anger and contempt rang clearly in Richard’s deep voice.

“But you were there.”

“So I have said,” Richard returned evenly.

“Did John Rye communicate with you in any way during his last visit to Lincoln?”

“He did not,” Richard said. “I scarcely knew John Rye. There would be no possible reason for him to seek me out.”

“You are certain of that?”

“Of course I am certain.”

Hugh turned to the justiciar. “I would like to ask Alan Stanham a few more questions, my lord.”

After a moment of silence, the justiciar said, “Very well.”

“My lord,” Richard said commandingly. “I object to Lord Hugh’s attempting to intimidate my squire.”

“He has not yet questioned the boy, Sir Richard,” the justiciar returned, “so it is rather beforehand to accuse him of attempted intimidation. If you would like to remain here in the witness area while your squire is questioned, you may do so.”

Richard looked grim. “I will remain,” he said.

Please God, please God, please God , repeated itself monotonously in Bernard’s brain. This calling of Alan was a calculated risk on Hugh’s part. He had no idea how the boy was going to answer.

You’re a fool to call him , Bernard had said when Hugh had told him what he planned to do. The boy idolizes Richard. He will never say anything that might hurt him .

Hugh had disagreed. Alan’s adoration has been shaken a bit these last few days , he had told Bernard. I do not think he will lie to protect Richard. I think he will tell the truth .

The voice of the chief justiciar calling Alan Stanham as a witness broke into Bernard’s thoughts.

Richard’s eyes were intensely blue as they followed the progress of his squire from his bench to the witness place in front of the justiciar.

Alan looked very young as he stood there, his fair hair shining like silver in the light of the flambeau. He looked at Hugh as if he were a wild boar about to attack.

Hugh said pleasantly, “Alan, I believe you accompanied Sir Richard around the fair on the day before the camp-ball game. Is that so?”

“Aye, my lord.” In contrast to his clarity when he earlier gave evidence, Alan’s voice was so faint, it could scarcely be heard beyond the first bench.

The chief justiciar frowned. “Speak up,” he commanded.

“Aye,” Alan said more loudly. “I was with Sir Richard for most of that day.”

“Do you know John Rye?” Hugh asked him.

“Aye, my lord.”

“You would recognize him without fail if you should meet him?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“During the time you spent with Sir Richard that day, did you ever see him in conversation with John Rye?”

Hugh’s voice never varied in its pleasantness. He might have been asking if Sir Richard had drunk any water, so matter-of-factly did he pose the question.

Bernard clenched his fists, waiting for Richard’s squire to reply.

Alan was so pale, the few light freckles that dusted his nose were clearly visible. He looked at Richard, standing like a splendid statue but a few feet away from him. Richard’s blue gaze returned his squire’s look steadily.

Alan said shakily, “It was a very busy day and I expect Sir Richard has forgotten, but John Rye did have speech with him that day.”

Thank you, God . Bernard’s eyes closed in a momentary prayer of gratitude.

Richard said, “You are mistaken, Alan. I never spoke to John Rye.”

“Don’t you remember, my lord? We were in the silversmith’s shop and he asked to speak to you…”

Richard’s eyes were blue ice. “You are mistaken,” he said again.

Hugh said, “Alan, did anyone else witness this encounter between Sir Richard and John Rye?”

Alan’s hazel eyes were huge. He looked utterly miserable. Bernard felt a pang of pity for the boy.

“I believe the silversmith saw them, my lord,” Alan said in a voice that was close to a whisper. “I was looking at some knives and he was with me while Sir Richard and John Rye spoke.”