Priscilla Royal - A Killing Season

“Why did you not join the search to guarantee it was a careful one?”

“I have rarely found joy in raising questions, begging to be heard, or asking to be included,” Raoul snapped. “I learned caution in boyhood.” He raised his head and looked up at the knight, his face grey with weariness. “Whatever your opinion of me, remember that I am still my father’s son, and you did give your word to justly hear me out.”

Hugh agreed and rubbed a hand over his mouth as a reminder to keep it shut.

“Soon after, I went alone to the beach, thinking it odd that no one had mentioned the cave. Many of the soldiers might not know about it, I thought. Few grew up here or now have sons who play in the cove as you and my brothers did. I suspected that the entrance had been concealed and did discover that a large rock covered it.” Raoul looked nervously at the prioress’ brother.

Asking him to continue, Hugh stole a quick look at Thomas.

The monk was holding Umfrey’s hands, the wounded man’s expression soft with tranquility.

“I discovered those chests high on the ledges. They were empty, but I found broken pieces of gold and silver scattered about, some large enough to reveal fine crafting. When I discovered a large cross, fallen into a crevice, I concluded that the cave might be used to hide unlawful goods smuggled in by sea. The gold cross I kept, since I could sell the object as well as any other man.” Raoul gestured awkwardly toward his elder brother. “Later, I gave it to him as a comfort while he hid in the chapel.” He grimaced. “If confession is due, I am a thief, albeit one who robs from others who steal. There were more baubles, but I left them. My greed is easily satisfied, and too much glitter hurts my eyes.”

This time Hugh’s look was kind. “Master Gamel says the cross saved Umfrey’s life.”

“That pleases me. My stolen object served a higher purpose than the mere reflection of a fat priest’s eyes when he looked upon the smuggled goods for purchase.” Raoul turned his face away.

The knight inclined his head toward the monk. “Some would call that remark blasphemous.”

Nodding in the same direction, Raoul replied, “The one who might has suggested that God used me to assist in the miracle of my brother’s survival.”

The knight stared at Thomas.

“From the beginning I doubted the smugglers had come here accidentally,” Raoul said. “The closeness to the castle and the dangers of the cove in winter argued against that. As I told you, I discounted my father’s leadership and began to think one or all of my brothers were to blame. When they began to die, I also lost suspects. Although I doubted Umfrey had anything to do with the smuggling, I did ask him if he knew of any crime he or our dead brothers had committed. He didn’t, and I believed him. My brother owns a womanish nature and was never clever enough to scheme.” Raoul looked up at Hugh and was surprised.

The prioress’ brother was looking at him with an expression bordering on respect.

“When only Umfrey and I were left alive, my suspicions turned reluctantly to my cousin. Since all communications went through Leonel, I realized that he might never have spoken to my father about the lights. The hasty nature of the investigation may have been his decision, or else he jested that the soldier must have imagined the sighting. If the last, the search party would have learned his desired conclusion from his light manner. Had there been questions later about this, he could have claimed that he did not want to trouble my father with a matter than seemed so insignificant.”

“There were times in Outremer when I suspected your cousin of deciding problems on behalf of your father without consultation. The instances were minor, and I never questioned the baron.”

Raoul exhaled with evident relief.

Thomas rose from the bedside and made the sign of the cross over Umfrey. The baron’s son wore a smile radiant with joy.

Hugh shook his head, then turned his attention back to Raoul. “Yet you never spoke of your findings to anyone at all?” He hoped he had kept his tone devoid of accusation.

“Whom could I trust? I had no proof of guilt and little reason to believe my words would be greeted with anything except blows or insults.” He carefully shrugged the uninjured shoulder, then grinned to disguise his evident pain. “Although I did not suppose my cousin was the head of the smugglers, I suspected he knew and might have been getting a fee for his silence. So I delayed until I had irrefutable proof to name the leader of this band, and, had I done so, I could have demanded an audience alone with my father. He’d not mock facts. How better to prove myself a worthy son?” His grin vanished. “Or not. The wisest choice would have been to join the outlaws for a share in the wealth.”

With those words, Hugh’s lesser opinion of Raoul returned. “In the cave, your cousin confessed he had organized the smuggling.” He waited for a response, then sneered. “So you claim never to have approached Leonel?”

The son’s eyes flashed with guarded anger. “Why would I? If I’d found proof, I would have gone to my father!”

“I wonder that you did not suggest to your cousin that he could pay for your own silence about his involvement.”

“Despite your poor opinion of me, I own some sense of honor. I looked for more answers in the cave and found nothing. Some night I thought to spy on the men unloading the boats.” He glared at the knight. “If I had discovered the leader, I would have omitted any mention of my suspicions about my cousin.”

“You didn’t slip into his chambers and search his possessions for proof of his involvement?”

“Like some common thief?”

Hugh nodded.

“I have never met you before this visit,” a man said, “yet I believe you did go through his room for evidence.”

Startled, Sir Hugh instinctively gripped his dagger as he turned to face the speaker.

Brother Thomas smiled, then gestured at the baron’s son. “You argued well for the innocence of your father, took good measure of your brothers, and described your cousin as a master of semblance. Why not conclude that he was the chief smuggler, a task that requires just such careful stealth? Having pondered the question, I believe that you did think him guilty and most probably searched his room for proof. Greed may not be your favorite vice, but protecting yourself is your main strength. Roger had died unexpectedly and under questionable circumstances. Gervase soon followed him. You would have grown wary.”

Turning pale, Raoul stared at the monk.

“Had I been you, I would have waited for a chance to look through Leonel’s possessions.” Thomas folded his arms and waited.

“Why? I thought my cousin was a good man who served my father well. Now you suggest that I believed him guilty of murder as well as smuggling?”

“Only a fool would not have feared it to be so, and you are possessed of a clever mind. Even if the smuggling and deaths were unrelated, a wise man would not dismiss the connection too quickly until he was convinced otherwise.”

Raoul began to deny the accusation again but chose not to dispute further. “Although I did not conclude he was guilty of more than gaining coin from the smuggling, I did search his room.”

Hugh looked at both monk and Raoul with amazement.

“What did you find?” Thomas spoke gently.

“Naught that pointed to my cousin’s involvement in either transgression. I was both relieved and disappointed.”

The monk considered that response. “I hear hesitation in your reply. You found something.”

“An oddity, nothing more.”

Thomas reached into his pouch. “Something like this?” He pulled out a roughly rounded and flaky lump, cupped the dark object in his palm, and extended it so Raoul could see.