Edward Marston - Ravens Of Blackwater

Ralph was taken aback by the bland assurance of the reply and Jocelyn preened himself. He could see that he had put the commissioner on the defensive and, in the process, he had gained the admiration of his steward. Fulk was pleasantly surprised at the lordly tone that Jocelyn was taking. He had always thought him rather weak and ineffective in the past because he was so easily overshad-owed by Guy, but he had clearly underestimated him. Jocelyn might not be as intimidating as his father or as contemptuous of opposition as his brother, yet he had the FitzCorbucion pugnacity, albeit it in a more civilised form.

Gervase Bret came quickly to Ralph’s assistance.

“We are not concerned with land that was granted to your father in

1066,” he said to Jocelyn. “Our interest is in the frequent annexations that have taken place in the past twenty years.”

“They, too, can be supported by charter,” said Jocelyn. “We will put that claim to the test.”

“When we decide to call you,” added Ralph firmly.

“We will vindicate ourselves,” came the confident reply. “If, that is, we decide to answer your summons.”

“Would you offer an insult to the King!” growled Ralph.

“He is not here to be insulted, my lord.” “We speak for him!”

“I think you exceed your authority somewhat.” Jocelyn was almost taunting them now. “Your predecessors did the same and my father had to teach them some geography. Maldon is a very long way from Winchester.”

Ralph went puce with indignation. “Do you dare to flout royal commissioners?” he roared.

“God forbid!” exclaimed the other. “I simply remind you that you are in FitzCorbucion territory here. If I summon our men, they will come running in their dozens: If you call for the Conqueror’s soldiers, your voice will not reach all the way to Winchester.”

“Do not threaten me-boy!” said Ralph vehemently.

“I merely suggest that you treat us with respect.” “And I warn you to do the same to us.”

“Of course.”

Jocelyn gave him a thin smile and a gentle bow. He was relishing his taste of power and felt completely in control of the situation. Before Ralph could upbraid the young man for his impudence, Gervase intervened to deflect them. An argument with the FitzCorbucion family at this stage was pointless and it would not advance their cause in any way. He therefore introduced a more diplomatic note.

“We are sorry to learn of the tragedy at Blackwater Hall, my lord,”

he said. “That will be borne in mind.”

“Why, yes,” said Jocelyn, reminded of something that had gone completely from his mind. “It weighs heavily upon us.”

“Then we will try not to add to your burden. You have our sympathy

and we will show some forbearance.” Ralph gurgled at his elbow. “Has the sheriff been informed?”

“Word was sent yesterday to Colchester.” “Is he on his way to the town?”

“Alas, no,” said Jocelyn uneasily. “Peter de Valognes is in the middle of Hertfordshire at this time, over three days’ ride from here. We cannot look for his assistance yet. We may not, in any case, need it.”

“Why?” asked Gervase.

“Because we have identified the killer.” “Is he in custody?”

“He soon will be,” said Jocelyn, anxious to discard a topic that had subtly robbed him of the initiative. “But this is a private matter for our family and does not concern you in any way. Excuse us.” He mustered his dignity and strode away with Fulk at his heels, pausing in the doorway to deliver a final comment. “We will not obstruct your work here in Maldon as long as you do not, in any way, intrude upon our grief.”

They went swiftly out and left Ralph Delchard fuming.

“I’ll intrude upon his grief!” he vowed. “Give me a sword and I’ll add to it. Who does this young upstart think he is? Damnation! He’s barely old enough to shave his chin.”

“You were wrong to bandy words with him,” said Canon Hubert censoriously. “It is Hamo FitzCorbucion that we must stalk and not this whelp. Why waste time on a cub when we need to kill the lion itself?”

“I’ll take no lectures on hunting from you, Hubert,” said Ralph with

asperity. “When did you ever track down an animal? This boy had to be put in his place.”

“Then it is a pity you did not do it.”

Ralph simmered and Gervase stepped in to prevent yet another argument between the two commissioners from getting out of hand. A few inquisitive burgesses still lingered near the door and the town reeve was hovering with a document in his hand. It was important to present a united front to the people of Maldon and not to squabble in front of them. Canon Hubert allowed the tactful intervention but his reproaches were only postponed. When he and Ralph were next alone, he would tax him with his shortcomings. Hubert rose to his feet with a disapproving smile and swept off towards the door with Brother Simon scurrying after him and trying to poke the last of the documents hastily into his leather satchel.

Gervase beckoned the reeve and took the document from him before dismissing him with polite thanks. The soldiers cleared the strag-glers out of the hall so that only the two commissioners remained there.

The becalmed Ralph Delchard was rueful.

“It pains me to admit this but-Hubert was right.”

His friend nodded. “You should not have lost your temper with that young man.”

“He annoyed me, Gervase.”

“Deliberately.”

“I had to respond.” “Not in that way.”

“God’s tits, I’ll not let anyone dictate terms to me!”

“That is why he tried to do so.”

“Jocelyn FitzCorbucion threw open defiance at me.”

“Couched in moderate language,” noted Gervase. “He is a clever advocate who knows the value of keeping a cool head. I look forward to meeting him in legal argument.”

“If he will deign to grace us with his presence,” said Ralph with heavy sarcasm. “Did you hear what that verminous rogue actually dared to do? He threatened us.”

“No, he gave himself away.” “What do you mean?”

“He used his weapon of last resort first, Ralph. If he was that secure in argument, he would not need to thrust his superior numbers at us.”

“That is true enough.”

“I think he was simply aping his father.”

“Yes, Hamo FitzCorbucion is the real malefactor here.”

“He is expected back very soon,” said Gervase, “so we will be able to take on father and son together. When they have buried another

member of the family.” His face puckered in thought for a moment. “That was another curious thing. When I asked him about his brother, he needed a second to remember that Guy FitzCorbucion was dead. Would you so easily forget a brother who had been cruelly murdered?” “I’d not shake off the loss of any loved one,” said Ralph soulfully. “When my wife died trying to bring our son into this world, I mourned for a year or more. Nothing could console me, Gervase. I was destroyed.” “You could not say the same of this Jocelyn. He warned us not to intrude upon a grief that did not exist until I jogged his memory about

it. What does that tell you?” “He hated his brother.”

“It may go deeper even than that.” “In what way?”

“I have this feeling …” “You are missing Alys!”

Gervase ignored the affectionate gibe. “We must look into this murder very closely,” he said. “It will tell us a great deal about the FitzCorbucion family and it may-if my instinct is sound-have a direct bearing on our work here.”

“How?”

“Wait and see.”

“But Jocelyn told us he had already solved the murder.” “He was at pains to make us think he had, Ralph.” “Why?”