Simon Beaufort - A Dead Man's secret

No answers came, although Geoffrey made three decisions. First, he would give Richard, Gwgan and Mabon their letters that day, although he would still have to travel to Kermerdyn to deliver the ones to Sear and Bishop Wilfred. Second, he was not going to put his family in danger by staying at Goodrich; he would feed his guests, collect dry clothes, and be gone within the hour. And third, Hilde would not be going to Kermerdyn to wheedle secrets about William’s secret from her sister. He did not want her embroiled in whatever sinister plan was unfolding.

‘Why do you say Mabon is a curious devil?’ he asked, raising his head to see that Helbye was regarding him worriedly. It would have been good to confide his fears and suspicions, but Helbye, with his deep distrust of the written word, was not the right candidate.

‘You will understand when you meet him, and I do not have your way with words. But this subject has upset you, so let us talk of other matters. Would you like to see my new pig?’

It was tempting, but Geoffrey had already spent longer than he had intended with Helbye, and knew he should at least try to arrive at the castle before the others. He took his leave, promising to return later, when his guests were settled.

‘Watch yourself, lad,’ said Helbye, reaching up to grab his arm before he could ride away. ‘None of us at the village likes Lady Joan’s guests, and you will not, either.’

It had stopped raining by the time he left Helbye, and the clouds had rolled away to reveal a blue sky. The sun was shining for virtually the first time since La Batailge, and Geoffrey and his horse steamed in the sudden warmth. The rest of the day was going to be fine.

The bailey was busy as he trotted into it, full of horses and people. Some were servants, scurrying here and there with cloaks, boots and cups of hot wine. Others were richly dressed, and, since he did not know them, they were clearly the guests. In the middle of the hubbub was a small, neat man with a moustache but no beard – an odd fashion in England, when most men did it the other way around. He was giving orders to the servants, and a bird sat on his wrist, its head covered by a tiny leather helmet. Sir Olivier d’Alencon, Geoffrey’s brother-in-law, was about to take his visitors hawking.

The clamour lessened when Geoffrey appeared, and people stopped talking to each other to see who was coming. Then a woman broke free of the cluster and ran towards him, her face an unrestrained beam of delight.

‘So Mistress Helbye had not taken leave of her senses when she said she had seen you!’ said Hilde. ‘But you said you would be gone for months, if not years. What happened?’

‘King Henry happened,’ replied Geoffrey gloomily, dismounting and going to bow over her hand. They had not been married long enough to dispense with the formalities, and he did not want to embarrass her with a more affectionate greeting when there was an audience.

Hilde was a large, square-faced woman with a determined glint in her eye. She was older than Geoffrey by at least three years – she was coyly vague about specifics – and had been foisted on him because Goodrich had needed a politically expedient marriage. Fortunately, Geoffrey valued intelligence more highly than looks, and he had not been disappointed. Moreover, he had found himself blessed with a friend, as well as a wife.

‘Is there more trouble brewing on the borders?’ she asked in alarm. ‘The last time he sent you here, we had a virtual war.’

‘He has ordered me to Kermerdyn,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I leave in an hour.’

‘An hour?’ Hilde cried in dismay. ‘Surely, you can rest here longer than that?’

‘Best not.’

‘Kermerdyn is where Isabella lives,’ said Hilde. ‘Gwgan – her husband, who is visiting us here at the moment – has offered to take me with him. But I would much rather travel with you.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey, more sharply than he had intended. He hastened to explain. ‘Henry told me to take you there, too, but there is something underhand about the whole affair, and I will not see you in danger.’

‘If Henry issued you with a direct order, you must obey it,’ said Hilde. ‘You know what he is like when crossed, and I do not want to be the reason for you being in trouble.’

‘He will never know.’

Hilde shook his arm gently. ‘Of course he will know! Nothing happens in his kingdom without his knowledge. I would be sorry to lose Goodrich, and so would Joan, so we had better do as he says. Besides, I am no swooning maiden who must be coddled. I thought you understood that.’

‘I do,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But-’

‘No buts,’ said Hilde, smiling. ‘I was intending to make the journey anyway, because it has been too long since I saw Isabella. If I do not go with you, I will go with Gwgan.’

Before the discussion could become an argument, a second woman approached. It was Joan – tall, sturdily built and with a fierce face that told everyone who met her that she was not a woman to stand for nonsense. Middle years had made her thick around the middle, and her brown hair was now flecked with grey.

‘I thought I recognized you,’ she said gruffly, never one for unseemly displays of affection. ‘What are you doing back so soon? And where is your horse?’

‘Drowned,’ said Geoffrey unhappily. ‘And I have been ordered to travel west by the King.’

Joan’s face hardened. ‘Has that villain used Goodrich to force you into his service again? I am beginning to suspect that he plans to keep you at his beck and call for ever.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey firmly. ‘Because I will go to the Holy Land as soon as Bishop Maurice releases me from a vow I made never to return there. You see, I believe Tancred did not write the letters-’

‘Stop!’ ordered Joan. ‘This is a complex tale and deserves to be heard properly. We shall have it as soon as we dispatch our guests for an afternoon of hawking with Olivier.’

And Geoffrey had three letters to deliver. He had not forgotten that Richard’s and Gwgan’s were secret, and would have to be handed over when the recipients were alone. And although no such stipulation had been attached to Mabon’s, Geoffrey intended to be cautious anyway. The whole affair was too murky for him to risk doing otherwise.

It was not many moments before Geoffrey’s travelling companions arrived, and he was made proud by the gracious welcome afforded by Joan and Hilde. Cups of welcoming wine were presented, and servants were waiting to take horses and see to baggage.

Even Sear could find no fault with their hospitality, although his eyebrows went up when he was introduced to Olivier. It was not difficult to read Sear’s thoughts: Joan was twice the size of her diminutive husband, and they looked odd together. Although a knight, Olivier lied about his military achievements and was a liability in any kind of skirmish. But Joan loved him and he loved her, and Geoffrey had grown to respect the man’s gentler qualities.

The newcomers knew the other guests, and Edward was unrestrained in his pleasure at seeing them. Geoffrey was slightly taken aback when Edward darted towards a tall, burly knight in black and treated him to a smacking kiss on the cheek. Both men immediately roared with laughter, although Sear grimaced his distaste and Alberic rolled his eyes.

‘As the weather is fine, we have decided to go hawking,’ said Olivier, beaming at the new arrivals. ‘Perhaps you would care to join us? I can promise you a treat. Geoffrey, you will come?’

Geoffrey shook his head, not liking to imagine what Joan would say if he disappeared before explaining his sudden arrival. Besides, he had never really taken to the sport, although he knew that Olivier’s birds were exceptional.