Joan Wolf - The Poisoned Serpent

Still staring at the ground, Alan said achingly, “I betrayed him.”

“He was never what you thought him to be, Alan,” Hugh said. “He is nothing but a brilliant facade that disguises a seething maw of raw ambition.”

Alan looked up, a heartbreakingly haunted look on his boyish face. “He was so good to me.” His voice broke, and he quickly looked downward again.

“Of course he was good to you,” Hugh replied. “You were his adoring disciple. You reflected back to him the image that he wanted to see of himself.”

Rufus was one of the horses turned out in the stockade, and now he spied Hugh and trotted over to the fence to visit.

“So it’s true, then?” Alan asked. “He really did kill the earl and John Rye?”

Hugh stroked Rufus’s soft nose. “It’s true.”

Alan’s eyes searched Hugh’s face. “But how did you know it was Richard?”

“I didn’t know right away,” Hugh replied. “I suspected him, but I also thought that William of Roumare had a strong reason to want the earl dead. And I wondered about Edgar Harding. You yourself were the one to tell me of Harding’s words when he saw de Beauté riding into the city. And then Harding let slip that he knew the earl had been stabbed in the heart. This was not common knowledge and I still don’t know how Harding came to discover it.”

A flare of color showed in Alan’s pale cheeks. He lifted his chin as if bracing himself, and confessed, “He knew because I told him.”

Hugh’s brows lifted.

As a diversion, Alan reached out to pat the crest of Rufus’s neck. “He stopped me in the Bail the morning after the murder. He asked me so many questions and…and I fear I was upset and not as discreet as I should have been…”

He shot a quick glance at Hugh, who said mildly, “Well, that is another mystery cleared up.”

“What I don’t understand is why you suspected Richard and not the sheriff,” Alan said. “The sheriff was the one most likely to be cheating on the taxes. Did you suspect Richard just because you didn’t like him?”

Hugh said gently, “I suspected Richard because I already knew that he was a killer.”

Alan’s eyes grew so large, they seemed to fill half his face. “What do you mean?”

Hugh said, “When he was twelve years old, I saw him kill his brother.”

Alan’s lips opened but no words came out. He stared at Hugh as if in a daze.

Rufus nudged Hugh, wanting his attention again, but Hugh ignored him. “Did you know that Richard once had an elder brother?”

Alan nodded once, convulsively. “Aye. I thought that he drowned.”

“So he did,” Hugh replied grimly. “I saw Richard hit him over the head and push him out of the boat. I was the only witness. To this day even Richard does not know that I was watching. The only person I ever told was Ralf, my foster father, and he commanded me to keep quiet. There was already bad blood between me and Richard and no one was likely to believe such a story coming from me.”

“He killed his brother?” Alan said blankly.

“Richard could never bear to take second place to anyone,” Hugh said.

Rufus nudged Hugh harder and Hugh once more began to stroke his pink nose.

“So that is why you hate him,” Alan said slowly.

“That is why,” Hugh agreed.

In an unsteady voice, Alan said, “I have been telling myself that he was driven to these terrible deeds by his love for Elizabeth de Beauté.”

A stableboy was leading a mare toward the stable, and Rufus flashed to instant attention, his ears pointed straight ahead.

Hugh said to Alan, “Richard Canville is driven solely by ambition and self-love. You should feel no remorse for having testified as you did, Alan. You have done the world a favor by ridding it of a monster.”

Alan swallowed. “We are not rid of him yet.”

Hugh said, “I plan to finish the job this afternoon.” He began to scratch behind Rufus’s right ear, and the stallion lowered his head in bliss.

Alan said steadily, “I shall pray for God to be with you, my lord.”

“Thank you,” Hugh replied. He took his hand away from the horse and regarded Alan’s forlorn face sympathetically. “I fear that neither of us will be overly welcome at the sheriff’s house for dinner.”

Alan managed a small chuckle. “That is what I was thinking.”

“I am meeting Lady Cristen back at my foster father’s house,” Hugh said briskly. “You had better come with me.”

A little brightness came into Alan’s eyes. “I have been wondering where I should go,” he confided. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Benjamin will be glad to see you,” Hugh said, and Alan actually laughed.

The whole of the household was gathered in the solar of Ralf’s town house when Hugh and Alan walked in.

Thomas was the first to speak, demanding imperatively, “What are the terms of the combat, Hugh? Do you fight on horseback or on foot?”

“On foot,” Hugh replied.

Thomas swore. On horseback, Hugh would have the advantage. He and Rufus were so in tune with each other that they functioned as a single unit. No matter how splendid Richard’s black mount may be, Thomas knew he would not be the match of Rufus.

“You should have demanded horses,” he said grimly.

“The chief justiciar is anxious to get back to London,” Hugh said. “He wants this combat ended as quickly as possible.”

“And so no horses,” Cristen said.

“And so no horses…and no armor, either, I’m afraid.”

“What! No armor? Is he mad?”

The indignant exclamation came from Thomas.

Cristen merely turned white. “You can’t wear your mail coat?” she asked.

Hugh shook his head. “No mail, no helmet, no shield. Just a sword and a dagger.”

This was stunning news. A duel such as the one Richard had called for was usually fought by two fully armed men. With the mail protection, it could take the great broadswords almost a full day to so hack and tear and rip at the mail that a man would finally go down with a mortal wound.

Cristen said steadily, “You have God on your side. You will win.”

He gave her a brilliant smile.

“Can you wear a leather jerkin?” Thomas asked practically.

“My understanding was that the less protection we have, the happier the chief justiciar will be,” Hugh said drily. “In fact, I got the distinct impression that he would be delighted if he somehow managed to rid the world of both of us.”

“Well, that is not going to happen,” Cristen said. “I won’t stand for it.”

Hugh looked at her.

“You should eat something,” she said.

“All right.”

Her brow furrowed in thought. “A bowl of stew, I think. Just enough to give you strength, not enough to weigh you down.”

He nodded docilely.

“Come with me to the kitchen,” she commanded.

“I will check over your weapons,” Thomas said. “And I think you should use my dagger. Its blade is longer than yours, Hugh.”

“Very well,” Hugh said.

“Mabel, will you take the children upstairs, please?” Cristen said.

Nicholas opened his mouth to protest, and found himself skewered by a pair of level gray eyes. “Do as Lady Cristen asks,” Hugh said.

Nicholas responded to that look in the same way everyone else did. He obeyed.

“Alan,” Cristen said. “Perhaps you could help Thomas with Hugh’s gear.”

“Of course, my lady,” Alan responded, glad to be given a task that included him in the group.

In less than a minute, Hugh and Cristen were alone in the solar. He held out his arms and she moved into them.

“I have to do this,” he said. He pressed his mouth against her hair and she could feel his lips move.

“I know you do,” she said. “I hate it, but I know you do.”