Simon Beaufort - A Dead Man's secret

The food was plain, but fresh and plentiful, and it was not long before someone began to play a harp. Isabella and Hilde sat together at one end of the table, talking incessantly, while the men took the other. Politely, Hywel enquired after their journey.

‘You might not have seen me, had Geoffrey not been with us,’ said Gwgan soberly. ‘He saved me this morning. We were ambushed constantly by outlaws after Brechene, and we are fortunate to reach Kermerdyn alive.’

‘Outlaws?’ asked Hywel, frowning. ‘But we have had no such trouble since Belleme’s louts were ousted last year.’

‘Well, we were plagued by them,’ said Gwgan firmly. ‘Alberic was killed today, and another knight wounded. Edward was injured just outside Brechene, and Geoffrey was knocked half-senseless last night in Lanothni. I have never known a journey like it; there was no trouble on the way to Gloucester.’

‘This is worrying news,’ said Hywel sombrely. ‘I had better send some patrols to find them. I cannot have my territories infected by law-breakers.’

‘They stole money from the taverner in Lanothni, too,’ Gwgan went on. ‘He is famous locally for having a lot of it, apparently. Foolish man! He should have kept it quiet.’

‘There should have been no need to keep it quiet,’ said Hywel sternly. ‘Every man has the right to keep what he has honestly earned. I shall see to it immediately.’

He started to rise, but Gwgan waved him back down. ‘I will do it. You can entertain our guests.’

After Gwgan left, Hywel began to tell Geoffrey about his plans for the region. The knight found him easy company, and he had an engaging, infectious laugh that made it impossible not to like him. How different it would be, Geoffrey thought, if Hywel, not Henry, had been King. Geoffrey would not have minded serving a man like the Prince.

After a while, Hywel stood and indicated Geoffrey was to walk with him outside. Like many military men, the Prince quickly grew restless sitting and preferred to be active.

‘Gwgan tells me you carried a letter to him from the King, about taxes and advowsons,’ he said. ‘I assume there is a personal message for me, too?’

He held out his hand.

‘It was a verbal one, My Lord,’ said Geoffrey, silently cursing Henry for his shabby manners. ‘He sends you his felicitations as a fellow prince and trusts he finds you well and strong.’

Hywel smiled wryly. ‘I suspect he forgot, and you are being tactful. But I appreciate your thoughtfulness in not wanting me to feel neglected. However, whereas other men might feel slighted, peace is important to me – to this region – and I shall not let Henry’s lack of grace spoil it.’

It was an admirable stance, and Geoffrey thought Henry could learn much from Hywel.

‘This is a fine castle,’ he said, trying to decide how best to assess it for William’s secret without making Rhydygors’ residents think him unacceptably nosy – or that Isabella’s sister had married a man not quite in control of his wits.

Hywel glanced around. ‘It will be, once it is finished in stone, although I wish William fitz Baldwin had sited it nearer the town. But I am always pleased to show guests my domain. Come. I shall take you around every nook and cranny.’

He was as good as his word, and, as he was willing to provide detailed information, it was easy for Geoffrey to identify which buildings had been extant in William’s time and which had been raised since. Hywel was proud of his little fortress, and Geoffrey might have found the extensive tour tedious had he not been assessing every inch of it for potential hiding places.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to find, because William’s buildings had been simple and functional, and there was little storage space. Geoffrey assessed the walls for hidden recesses, looked up the chimneys, and stamped across the floors to assess whether something might be buried underneath, but it was all to no avail. Moreover, it was obvious that William’s retainers would have noticed if their master had started digging holes or hacking at the walls.

Geoffrey suppressed a sigh when, once finished with the buildings, Hywel led him on an exhaustive expedition around the grounds. Again, there was nowhere William could have buried something he did not want anyone else to find, and Geoffrey was forced to conclude that whatever he was looking for was not in Rhydygors. He would have to look in the abbey and church.

When Gwgan had finished briefing Hywel’s troops about the outlaws, the Prince excused himself from Geoffrey to spend time with his counsellor. Geoffrey retrieved his horse from the stables and mounted up, intending to return to Kermerdyn to check on Roger. Hilde and Isabella came to intercept him.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Hilde worriedly. ‘It will be dark soon, and it is not wise to ride out alone, given what happened earlier today.’

‘Please stay,’ begged Isabella. ‘I have not thanked you for saving my husband’s life. He told me how you knocked away the knife that would have killed him today.’

‘There is no need to thank me,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But I have a letter for you, as it happens. From Bishop Maurice.’

‘Bishop Maurice?’ asked Isabella, startled. ‘Why would he write to me? I barely know him.’

Geoffrey could hardly say it was in order to disguise the fact that he was delivering more contentious letters from the King, so he said nothing and merely held it out to her, along with the now battered packet that contained the raisins.

‘Read it to her,’ instructed Hilde, taking the raisins and opening them. She began to eat them. ‘Or Isabella will have to wait for a clerk to become available, and I imagine she is impatient to know what it says.’

‘I am curious,’ admitted Isabella.

Geoffrey did not want to do it. ‘It might be personal,’ he hedged, suspecting they would all be embarrassed by its sentiments. Maurice had an unerring eye for beautiful women, and he would certainly have noticed Isabella.

‘It will not!’ laughed Isabella. ‘I did not help him with his unbalanced humours, if that is what you are thinking, so it can contain nothing to shock us. Besides, I am a married woman.’

Geoffrey broke the seal, forbearing to remark that a woman’s marital status was neither here nor there to Maurice when his humours were awry. He scanned the letter quickly, ready to omit anything indelicate. The first section contained some rather bald and inappropriate statements about her fine figure and alluring eyes, but the rest was, as Maurice had claimed, information about a place where good raisins might be bought. Geoffrey paraphrased the first part to render it innocuous, and read the second verbatim, while Hilde made inroads into the raisins.

‘Well,’ said Isabella, bemused. ‘It is good of him to remember me, but I am not sure why I should warrant such attention. Perhaps you will help me compose a suitable reply, Geoffrey?’

‘He did not send many of these raisins,’ said Hilde, shaking the packet to see whether there were any left. ‘You would think he would have been a little more generous. They cannot be easy to come by here.’

‘Oh, you can buy them readily in Kermerdyn,’ said Isabella. ‘We shall purchase some tomorrow, and Geoffrey will take them to Maurice as a gift when he returns to the court.’

‘So I am a raisin courier now?’ asked Geoffrey, wondering to what depths he would have to plummet before his duties to the King were complete.

‘We will buy you some, too,’ promised Isabella. ‘As payment.’

‘Please do not,’ said Geoffrey with a shudder. He took up his reins and prepared to leave, thinking he had abandoned Roger quite long enough.

‘Wait – I will come with you,’ said Hilde. She sounded disappointed that her reunion with her sister was going to be cut short.