The Medieval Murderers - Hill of Bones

‘They said the same to us,’ acknowledged Gwenllian. ‘But we cannot be sure they were telling the truth.’

‘If the creature is alive, then I know nothing about it,’ stated Pica. ‘I admit to stabbing Lechlade, but it was a mistake, and any court of law will see it.’

‘A mistake because you were aiming to kill the King’s officer?’ asked Gwenllian icily.

‘A mistake because Savaric fosters an atmosphere of fear and mistrust,’ countered Pica, finally regaining his composure. ‘Bath has an unsettled and dangerous feel, and I struck out in self-defence. That is what I shall say, and no one will be able to disprove it.’

‘Pica is right, you know,’ said Gwenllian, as she and Cole watched him escorted to the abbey cells. ‘It was dark, and Lechlade was armed. No one can prove he did not act in self-defence.’

‘Lechlade’s weapons were still in his belt. Of course it was not self-defence!’

‘I know that, but do not expect justice to be served for this particular crime. Royal pardons can be purchased, and Glastonbury is a wealthy foundation.’

‘So is Wells. Trotman will want Lechlade avenged.’

‘But Glastonbury has the revenues from King Arthur’s bones. It is richer and stronger.’

‘We could speak out – make sure the truth is known.’

‘Then John will arrest you for questioning the judiciousness of his pardons, and will give Carmarthen to one of his cronies. It is better to stay silent.’

‘Very well, but I will not look the other way while Adam’s killer walks free.’

Gwenllian sighed. ‘I know. But we had better give an account of our findings to Savaric now. He will want details of Pica’s crime, and we cannot afford to offend him.’

They walked to the Bishop’s Palace, where Savaric was eating breakfast with Walter; Osmun and Fevil were by the window, honing daggers. As Cole explained how they had cornered Pica, Gwenllian noticed that the famous crosier – which Savaric claimed was always kept in the hall – was missing. Another piece of the mystery snapped clear in her mind.

‘Where is your staff?’ she asked.

Savaric’s eyebrows went up at the question, but he went to the place where it was kept. His jaw dropped in dismay when he saw it had gone, but Walter hurried forward.

‘Here it is,’ he said soothingly, reaching behind a curtain. ‘I noticed it had been moved yesterday. One of the servants must have done it.’

Relieved, Savaric held out his hand.

‘Allow me to see it restored to its proper position,’ said Walter ingratiatingly, declining to pass it to him.

‘May I see it first?’ asked Gwenllian.

‘Certainly not,’ said Walter, holding it to his chest. ‘It is too holy to be pawed by women.’

‘I touched it the other day,’ she challenged. ‘And I want to see it again now.’

When Osmun and Fevil whipped out their swords, Gwenllian knew her suspicions were correct. She also saw that making them known had been a terrible mistake. Bewildered, Cole drew his own weapon.

‘Osmun, see to Cole!’ Walter bellowed, lashing out with the staff so suddenly that Gwenllian only just managed to avoid being brained with it. ‘I will deal with his wife.’

‘What are you doing?’ cried Savaric, aghast. ‘Put that down at once!’

‘Trust me!’ snapped Walter, gripping the crook more firmly. ‘I am acting in your best interests, just as I always have.’

He advanced on Gwenllian again, but she darted behind the startled prelate. On the other side of the room, Cole was engaged in a fierce battle with Osmun and Fevil. The clang of steel was deafening, and she wondered fleetingly how disadvantaged he would be with an unfamiliar sword. But she could not dwell on his predicament, because she had her own troubles. Walter grabbed her cloak and yanked her towards him. She drew a small knife and brandished it, causing him to leap back in alarm.

‘Afraid to fight me?’ she jeered. ‘Or do you only strike your victims when it is dark, and no one can see?’

‘What is she talking about?’ demanded Savaric. ‘Osmun, Fevil! Desist immediately!’

The two knights had Cole backed into a corner and were taking it in turns to attack. They ignored Savaric’s order.

‘What you do not know cannot harm you,’ said Walter to the bishop, lunging for Gwenllian again. ‘Look the other way, and pretend this is not happening.’

‘Overlook the slaughter of the King’s officer and his wife in my own hall?’ cried Savaric, aghast. ‘Do not be a fool, man! And give me my crosier before you damage it. It is a holy thing, touched by a miracle-’

‘Oh, come,’ scoffed Walter. ‘Do not tell me you believe that? You left the damned thing in the cloisters, and it was I who put it on the altar.’

Savaric’s jaw dropped a second time. ‘No! But Reginald… He cured people!’

‘After the so-called Miracle of the Crosier, I paid a beggar to say he was healed, and subsequently, people thought they were better because they wanted to be. But the ruse has earned our abbey a fortune, so I have no regrets.’

Savaric’s face was ashen. ‘I do not believe you would stoop to such a vile deception!’

‘No? Then why did you make me prior, if not as a reward for devising the plan that has generated so much money?’

‘Because my only other choice was Robert, and his piety makes me look irreligious,’ explained Savaric weakly. ‘Now give me my crosier before-’

‘No!’ snarled Walter, trying again to grab Gwenllian. ‘Let me resolve this matter as I deem fit, and we shall say no more about it. I know what I am doing.’

‘Walter will not let you see your staff because there is blood on it,’ said Gwenllian to Savaric, retreating further behind him. ‘Which is why it was hidden behind the curtain. He has not had time to clean it.’

‘Whose blood?’ whispered Savaric.

‘My husband’s. Walter and your two henchmen came to the Angel to kill him. But he is quick-witted in that sort of situation. He kicked over the lamp, and darkness prevented them from committing murder.’

‘What?’ cried Savaric, more appalled than ever. ‘But he is the King’s officer! You cannot kill him, Walter – especially with my crosier! It is a religious artefact, not a cudgel.’

Cole was tiring from the vicious two-pronged attack, and Gwenllian saw that unless she did something soon, the knights would kill him.

‘Symon has bruises that match your staff precisely,’ she said desperately. ‘Even down to the puncture marks caused by its three glass jewels. Tell your men to lay down their weapons, and he will show you.’

‘Osmun, stop!’ shouted Savaric. ‘End this madness at once.’

‘Keep fighting!’ Walter turned to Savaric. ‘It is them or you. If they live, they will accuse you of murder.’

Savaric gazed at him. ‘Murder? Me ? What are you talking about?’

‘They think you killed Adam and Hugh,’ explained Gwenllian, ‘using Pica’s dog.’

‘What?’ exploded Savaric. ‘That vile creature? I assure you, I-’

‘You do not need to pretend with us,’ interrupted Walter briskly. ‘We know it was the dog Pica gave you that dispatched Adam and Hugh. We saw its hairs on their bodies.’

Savaric was horrified. ‘If that beast was responsible, then it had nothing to do with me! I thought Osmun had destroyed the thing. I swear on holy Reginald’s tomb that I had nothing to do with what happened to Adam and Hugh!’

The oath made Osmun falter, and it was enough for Cole to strike him on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword. Osmun staggered backwards, then collapsed in a heap. Fevil issued a peculiar growl, and Gwenllian stared at him.