Michael, JECKS - The Tournament of Blood

‘I thank you for your help,’ Baldwin said and walked with Simon back to the hall’s doorway with a faint smile of understanding illuminating his features.

Lord Hugh was back in his stand at the lists with Sir Peregrine at his side when Baldwin and Simon arrived at the foot of the stage. Neither the Lord nor the banneret looked at them.

It was fine. Baldwin could wait. The rumbling warned him of another encounter, and he looked up in time to see two knights meet. There was a shattering of lances, and the two rode apart, each waving their broken weapons.

Baldwin sometimes wished life could be as simple. You chose a course and charged, and the stronger man would win. That was how life should be, he thought. And yet it so often wasn’t, for politics always got in the way. Politics soured everything and politicians were the lowest slugs Baldwin could think of.

And one of the lowest, he privately maintained, was Sir Peregrine of Barnstaple. He almost groaned aloud when the latter caught his eye and started towards him. Baldwin was suddenly struck with a sense of irresolution. He knew what he should do, he should ignore Sir Peregrine, but right now he was tired of fighting and mendaciousness. It was tempting to simply leave.

‘Sir Baldwin. You look like a man who has a desire to speak to someone?’

‘I wanted a word with Lord Hugh.’

‘Yes, I thought you did,’ Sir Peregrine said.

‘It is about the dead spies,’ Baldwin began tiredly.

‘And you think he’ll want to hear about them?’

‘I am not sure. Perhaps he already knew what they were doing.’

‘Oh, he knew. I told you: that’s why they were here.’

Simon nodded. ‘They were here so that Lord Hugh could keep an eye on them.’

Sir Peregrine led them out of earshot of the stands. ‘We’ve known for some time that the King had spies in our household and we guessed who they were when Benjamin tried to bribe a groom – fortunately loyal to us – to report to him. It was but a short leap to see that his friends were probably helpers too. So then we identified Hal and Wymond.’

‘So Lord Hugh had them brought here to have them assassinated?’ Simon asked hotly.

‘No, Simon,’ Baldwin said. ‘That wasn’t in his interests. Now that the trio are dead, the King will send more. If the others had survived, Lord Hugh could have carried on feeding them with the information he wanted the King to hear. Edward learned only that which was good for Lord Hugh.’

‘And good for the King,’ Sir Peregrine said imperturbably. ‘Naturally Lord Hugh and I want only what’s in the King’s interests.’

‘Whereas now the King will send more people and you won’t know who they are.’

‘It doesn’t worry us. We have nothing to hide from our monarch,’ said Sir Peregrine silkily.

‘I do not blame Lord Hugh for stopping the enquiry into Sir Walter’s death,’ said Baldwin. ‘It could have been embarrassing, having the motives of a man who had killed the King’s own spies investigated.’

‘Of course there was no indication that anyone else could have destroyed Hal or Wymond,’ Sir Peregrine countered.

‘No, but Lord Hugh must have suspected someone else, someone who was on his side,’ Baldwin said and glanced up at the impassive-faced baron above him. ‘Lord Hugh made his decision and acted upon it. He obviously believes someone else killed the three, and has chosen to protect the man. If he had not, the King would have wondered why his spies should have died while under Lord Hugh’s protection. When an easier solution was offered by Sir Roger, suggesting that Sir Walter was the guilty man, Lord Hugh grasped it with both hands.’

Sir Peregrine smiled but made no comment. He walked back to the stand. At the stairs, he turned again and faced Baldwin. ‘You know, I didn’t touch them – for the simple reason that you have already mentioned: I wanted to know who the enemies were in my camp. Now I’ll have to start all over again.’

‘Did you owe money to Benjamin as well, Sir Peregrine?’ Baldwin rasped.

The man laughed aloud. ‘I owe no one money. I serve my lord and all my wants are supplied by him. No, I have no interest in money.’ He turned and climbed aloft to rejoin his master.

‘Do you think he did it?’ Simon said.

‘Him?’ Baldwin appeared surprised that Simon should have asked. ‘No! As he said, he stood to gain nothing. The man who did it was one who had every reason to go through with his crimes.’

‘Odo?’

‘Yes. All the knights and squires would have been dressed in their richest clothing. They would have stood out wherever they went, but Odo? He would only have to change one garment – and even you would mistake him. The drunk you saw on the day we found Sachevyll’s body – could that have been Odo?’

‘Surely I couldn’t mistake him,’ Simon said doubtfully.

‘You managed to mistake Sir Walter when he walked with his wife. If Odo was out of his uniform it would be easy to think him a mere churl.’

‘It’s not proof, though. A knight could doff his tunic.’

‘We know that Sir Edmund said Odo reappeared shortly after, leaving with William following him. That is what made me wonder. Who else could have changed so swiftly? These murders surely happened quickly – yet all the knights are wearing their finery. They have on their best shirts, cloaks, coats. Even if one of them discarded his clean, best outer garments, surely a watchman would see the clean linen of a shirt, or the shine of silk? Yet Odo has only cheap shirts and hose. He would fit in with the tattiest fair-goer.’

‘You have more evidence, don’t you?’

Baldwin gave a dry chuckle. ‘Yes. Andrew used to be a Templar. I spoke to him after the hastilude .’

‘Oh,’ Simon said doubtfully. He knew of Baldwin’s past. ‘You’re sure you’re not being swayed by the words of a comrade-in-arms?’

‘No, Simon. I never knew Andrew in the Order. But I do know that I can trust the word of a man who served in the Templars.’

‘He was there at the river with his master and Lady Helen?’

‘Yes, on the night when Sir William died and the night before. More: Andrew knows no reason why Sir Edmund should wish to harm Hal or Wymond. And one last thing, we still do not know who could have harmed Benjamin. You recall Coroner Roger telling us that there was a court, and that the knights were all there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Andrew saw Odo there, at Exeter. To my shame I never considered the herald as a possible culprit, but now I know that he was there when Benjamin was murdered.’

‘Why should he want to kill Dudenay?’

‘It’s no secret that the banker was in business with Wymond and Hal, is it? Tyrel would have known who funded the stands and stood to make money from the use of shoddy materials, just as he would have known who built them and who designed them.’

‘Who is this Tyrel? Does Odo have another name?’ Simon shot his friend a puzzled glance.

Baldwin gave a quiet smile. ‘Let us talk to him. I shall explain then.’

Baldwin walked along the line of the stand and at the first opportunity, he gestured to Odo. The herald trotted over to them.

‘So it was Odo all along,’ Simon breathed. Yet he had liked the man – still did.

‘You are wrong, Simon,’ Baldwin said forcefully as Odo dropped from his horse and tethered it to the stand. ‘Our friend the herald has no reason to want to hurt anyone. Odo is an honourable servant of Lord Hugh. Calm, decent and a good diseur . He simply could not commit murder.’

Simon burst out with frustration, ‘Then, by Saint Paul, who the hell did?’

Odo was tired of the continual deception. His head ached as though it did in reality contain the thoughts of two souls. Noticing the two grim-faced men walking towards him, he set his jaw, but without truculence. It would almost be a relief to confess at last. ‘Do you mean to accuse me?’ he said immediately.