Michael, JECKS - The Tournament of Blood

Baldwin considered him a while, then, ‘When I was young, squires used to meet in taverns. Does that still happen?’

‘Of course it does,’ Geoffrey said scathingly. ‘Why shouldn’t we?’

‘I see. Where were you last night after dark?’

‘Peter and I went to a tavern near town.’

‘What time did you return?’

‘I don’t know. Late.’

‘What of your friend?’

‘Peter? He passed out. I left him there.’

‘On your way back to the camp, did you see anyone else?’

Geoffrey shook his head, then: ‘Oh, there was one man – up near the lance-racks.’

‘Who?’

Geoffrey gave a wry grin. ‘My eyes are bad. At twenty paces in daylight I find it hard to recognise a man. In the dark I have no chance. All I could see was a shape. Why all the questions, sir knight?’

‘Wymond Carpenter was murdered last night.’

Geoffrey curled his lip. ‘That vicious bugger?’

‘Many people say the same,’ Baldwin sighed. ‘It seems everyone loathed the fellow.’

Geoffrey was quiet a moment. ‘I couldn’t swear to it, but it’s possible that the man I saw was him.’

‘Alone?’

‘Well, I did see another shape with him – ach! How can I tell?’

‘And there was no one with you when you saw him?’

‘You mean you suspect me ?’ Geoffrey stopped and peered up at Baldwin. He would like to be able to speak to someone whom he could trust, and Baldwin’s grave features were comforting, but his secret must not be divulged to Sir John. Making a quick decision, he said, ‘I am married, Sir Baldwin. Lady Alice is my wife – although we have not announced our wedding. We are waiting until I am knighted. She was with me. Perhaps she recognised the men.’

‘I see.’

‘But please do not tell anyone. Our marriage was clandestine and there would be trouble if news should be spread.’

‘Why?’

‘Her family perished when a stand collapsed in Exeter several years ago. Since then she has been the ward of Sir John of Crukerne, and he wants her to wed his son Squire William. He would remove her from this tournament if he realised she had been already married. He’d reject it. You know how much power a man has over a ward.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Baldwin considered. This was interesting, but surely it was irrelevant to Wymond’s murder. ‘But you think she might be able to tell me who this man was at the lances?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘Did you walk her back to her tent afterwards?’

‘Of course.’

‘So what would Wymond have been doing there at the lances so late at night?’ Baldwin wondered. ‘And who was the man with him?’

Andrew saw William stoop and collect the scarf. It was typical that the squire should try his luck with the girl. The kid was attractive enough, certainly, but Andrew knew from long association with Squire William that he would seek to storm almost any bastion of feminine defence more as a matter of practice than from any genuine need.

‘She fell at your attack?’ Andrew said drily.

William started, then gave a shamefaced grin. ‘Christ’s bones, but you can walk quietly when you have a wish!’

‘Guilty conscience?’

‘No need for that, Andrew. Some of us only ever behave with the best of intentions.’

‘I am sure you’re right, but when it comes to women, your intentions have always been murky.’

William gave a fleeting grin, but his attention was fixed on the disappearing Edith. ‘She is beautiful.’

‘She looked it,’ Andrew agreed. ‘So were many of your other conquests.’

‘I wouldn’t put her in the same category.’

‘No? You don’t mean you’re in love? Good God, you’re too young for that!’

‘Just because you have never married.’

‘No, it wasn’t possible.’

‘Wasn’t possible?’

Andrew said nothing and William gave him an interested glance. He had not met Andrew before the Boroughbridge campaign and the thought that a man of some thirty-five years should have found it impossible to marry seemed peculiar. ‘You must have found opportunities to marry. Didn’t you ever come across a woman whom you desired?’

‘My master was strict,’ Andrew said shortly.

‘Ah, I remember you saying that you were living in France. They can be strange over there,’ William said dismissively and returned to a more interesting subject. ‘She is a graceful filly, isn’t she? I shouldn’t go near her, for I promised my father that I wouldn’t risk my match to Alice – but she’s a tempting morsel.’

‘He still wants you to wed Alice?’

‘Oh, I shall. I can marry her and use her lands, and she will be delightful to embrace on a dark and chill winter’s evening.’

‘What if she refuses to marry you?’ Andrew asked.

‘She can’t. There are pressures a guardian can bring to bear on his ward. No, I don’t fear that.’

‘Then what of this latest one?’ Andrew said, jerking a thumb at Edith’s back.

‘Ah! Well, she is the Bailiff’s daughter, and he’s annoyed me.’

‘So you’ll take her in order to get back at him?’

‘What better way? Well, other than bulling his wife and pinning the cuckold’s horns on him,’ William laughed.

‘Christ Jesus! Are you sure of this?’

‘You can’t understand,’ William said tolerantly.

Andrew bridled. ‘I may be five-and-thirty, but I can remember what it is to desire a woman.’

‘What better way to get my revenge on him than by deflowering his daughter? It will be doubly pleasurable for me, and all the more bitter for him.’

‘But she will be ruined,’ Andrew said more quietly.

‘The alternative is a vulgar fight with her father. I’d certainly rather sheath my weapon to the hilt in her than have him thrust his dagger in me .’

‘At least there is some honour in a fight.’

‘True. Standing with comrades to defeat the enemy.’

‘If you can trust your comrades,’ Andrew said.

‘That sounds bitter.’

‘It was.’

‘Yet your comrades were stout-hearted enough. They attacked many times.’

‘Horses and armour are poor protection against a small but determined band of archers protected by men-at-arms,’ Andrew agreed.

‘It was a good fight,’ William said. They had been on opposite sides during the battle and William had captured Andrew. ‘Why are you bitter about your companions?’

‘Before Boroughbridge I and a small group of foragers were ambushed and I was knocked from my horse. Several of us were killed, but one, a coward, fled the field.’

‘That’s disgusting!’ William said vehemently.

‘And he will be knighted.’

‘You’d prevent it?’ William asked doubtfully. ‘He could challenge you to combat.’

‘If he’s too scared to risk his life in a fight, I doubt he’d test his skills with me,’ Andrew said dismissively.

‘Who was it?’

‘Geoffrey.’

William gaped. ‘No! Christ’s blood! He’s the man Alice wanted instead of me!’

‘If she wants him,’ Andrew said, ‘she should be quick. He may not be around for much longer. And if he is, I’ll make sure he’s never knighted.’

‘Do so with my pleasure. But if you say he deserted you during the fight at Boroughbridge, you may have to stand in a queue to get to him!’

While Margaret rocked her young boy waiting for Baldwin to return, Hugh absently scratched his head and sucked at a piece of meat stuck in the gap of a broken tooth. It was while he was standing with no particular thought in his mind that he saw Edith talking to William.

Hugh was a lonely man. Raised as a shepherd on the moors, he was used to quiet emptiness with only dogs and lambs to talk to, and until a year before he had felt jealous of other men who had their own women, like his master and Sir Baldwin. Even Edgar, Sir Baldwin’s man, had married after many years of philandering, but Hugh had been convinced no woman could want him. Until recently.