Simon Beaufort - The Bloodstained Throne

‘We must stay together,’ said Juhel to Geoffrey and Roger, apparently deciding that two knights represented his best chance of staying alive. ‘At least until we reach civilization.’

‘Do you have money?’ asked Roger bluntly. ‘Or just that chicken?’

Juhel smiled and raised the cage so everyone could see the disconsolate bundle within. Geoffrey saw his dog lick its lips and leaned down to grab it before it did anything irreversible.

‘My bird is worth more than all the treasure in Jerusalem,’ Juhel declared. ‘But I have enough gold to pay my way. I saved my dagger, too, so I am not completely helpless. But the ladies are right: we should not linger here with daylight fading.’

‘A knight with a sword is better than a merchant with a dagger,’ said Philippa, simpering at Geoffrey. ‘We are fortunate to have found you .’

‘I agree,’ said Edith. She rested a hand on Roger’s arm and beamed. ‘I know you will find us somewhere warm tonight.’

‘Aye, lass,’ said Roger with a leer that suggested he might supply some of the heat personally.

‘Then we should go,’ said Geoffrey promptly. ‘We will walk towards that tower I saw.’

‘And tomorrow?’ asked the Saxon haughtily. ‘What happens tomorrow?’

Geoffrey shrugged. ‘If we do not find shelter, there may not be a tomorrow for us.’

‘Aye,’ agreed Roger. ‘The fellow with the green hat is still watching us. The others are concentrating on Fingar’s salvage, but not him. Look! There he is among those trees.’

‘So he is,’ muttered Geoffrey, following Roger’s gaze. ‘And his large friend is with him. Is he interested in us because he thinks we will be easier to rob? Or is there another reason?’

Unsettled by the peculiar interest of the green-hatted man and his hulking friend, Geoffrey began to walk towards the tower. Roger marched behind him, Edith clinging to his arm, followed by the other passengers, with Bale bringing up the rear. Philippa ran to catch up with Geoffrey, but so did Ulfrith, taking her hand in a powerful grip to support her over the uneven surface. She grimaced, loath to settle for a squire when her friend had a knight, but she made the best of it and began to chatter gaily about herself — the subject she seemed to like best.

She had some serious competition, though, because Juhel was also determined to hear his own voice. He rattled on about some perfumed oil he had sold to Belleme. Geoffrey was dubious: he could not imagine that ruthless tyrant being interested in fripperies. As they babbled, Geoffrey glanced behind him to ensure Bale was carrying out his duties as vanguard.

He need not have worried. Bale took seriously any order issued by his master and was assiduously looking backwards every two or three steps to ensure no one was in pursuit. He had Geoffrey’s dog on a piece of rope, knowing the animal would growl if any villager came too close. Geoffrey had a feeling the would-be looters would be disappointed if they did intend to attack after dark: about thirty sailors had survived, and such a large group would present a formidable challenge.

‘Have you noticed that Saxon has attached himself to us?’ asked Ulfrith of Geoffrey, rather indignantly. ‘He has been very unfriendly, so I do not know how he dares!’

‘Because we are a better proposition than Fingar and his rabble,’ said Juhel, overhearing. ‘ We will not slit his throat in the night and make off with his belongings.’

‘Life will be difficult for me now,’ said Philippa, bringing the discussion back to herself. ‘I am a young widow, whose husband has been ripped away in untimely fashion.’

‘Vitalis was rather old,’ remarked Ulfrith tactlessly. ‘But now you can choose a younger man.’ He glanced hopefully at her out of the corner of his eye.

‘I should like a younger man,’ said Philippa, smiling at Geoffrey.

But Geoffrey was not paying attention to her; he was concentrating on the curious movements of the green-hatted man and his friend, who had started to follow the party. Besides, Hilde had aroused in him an odd sense of affection and loyalty he had rarely felt towards women. If he did break his marriage vows, it would not be with a simpering girl.

‘Sir Geoffrey is married,’ said Ulfrith with a hint of triumph. ‘However, I am unattached. And I have fair prospects, being a fighting man — loot, you understand.’

‘But you are only a squire,’ said Philippa in distaste. ‘I am used to being wed to a knight.’

‘I understand Edith was wed to him, too,’ said Ulfrith sanctimoniously. ‘Such situations are frowned upon in England. It is called bigamy, and we Saxons disapprove. Of course, Denmark is different.’

‘Not that different,’ said Juhel, laughing. ‘The only countries that countenance multiple wives are those that follow the teachings of Mohammed — and then only if they can be afforded.’

‘Well, Sir Vitalis could afford me and Edith,’ said Philippa sulkily. ‘I cannot imagine what I will do now he is dead. Edith has wealthy kin, but I am friendless and alone. Who will care for me?’

‘ I will,’ called Edith from where she walked with Roger. ‘As I keep telling you. You need have no fears for your future, Philippa.’

Philippa smiled back at her, then tripped over a stone. Ulfrith’s clumsy attempt to catch her resulted in the inadvertent grabbing of a breast, and her squeals of outrage were loud enough to draw the attention of several villagers. Growing exasperated, Geoffrey took her hand and set a cracking pace that had the others running to keep up. After a while, the villagers lost interest and turned back towards Fingar’s salvage. When he next glanced around, the green-hatted man was also moving in the opposite direction.

‘The Church dictates that a man may not have more than one wife,’ said Edith, when Geoffrey slowed a little, allowing breath for conversation again. ‘But the Church is full of celibates, who are hardly in a position to appreciate the needs of normal men. A knight should be allowed to take more than one wife if he feels like it. And a woman should be allowed more than one husband, too.’

‘ I have been happier than I ever thought possible with Vitalis and Edith,’ said Philippa wistfully. ‘Damn those wretched pirates! They have lost me more than they could ever imagine.’ When she saw Geoffrey glance behind again, she misunderstood the object of his wary attention and lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘You do not approve of that nasty man coming with us. Neither do I. He is a killer!’

‘I know,’ said Geoffrey, recalling how the Saxon had sacrificed his servant to save himself.

‘And he talks all the time,’ said Philippa.

‘You refer to Juhel?’ asked Geoffrey in surprise. ‘I thought you meant the Saxon.’

‘No,’ said Philippa in disdain. ‘I would not waste my breath talking about an arrogant stick of a man who would not even tell my husband his name. I meant that garrulous Juhel. He might be witty and clever, but he is a murderer !’

‘Is he now?’ said Geoffrey, paying her scant attention.

‘I saw him kill his friend,’ Philippa chatted on. ‘Do you remember how distressed he was, rushing all over the ship the morning Paisnel disappeared?’

‘ I remember,’ said Ulfrith, keen to show he was interested in her tale, even if Geoffrey was not. ‘He wept bitterly when we realized Paisnel must have gone overboard during the night.’

Philippa continued to address Geoffrey. ‘Well, his tears were not of grief, but of guilt. I saw him throw Paisnel overboard with my own eyes, and I heard the splash as his body hit the water.’