Simon Beaufort - A Head for Poisoning

So that was why the food-taster was so reluctant to speak to anyone, Geoffrey thought. He knew he had stumbled upon a plot that would have been very dangerous to investigate further-and that seemed to involve murdered corpses wandering through the village.

“But Ingram’s unwholesome interest in my affairs still explains nothing,” said Geoffrey coldly.

Adrian sighed. “Ingram presented me with his … find, and asked if it could be Enide. I told him it could, because I wanted him to cease his questioning before someone did it for him. He would not be the first around here to be silenced for his curiosity: I do not think that Godric’s first food-taster drowned in the castle moat by accident.”

Geoffrey was sure he was right.

“Then Ingram told me that he planned to make you pay dearly for the information he had gathered,” said Adrian. “He claims that you sometimes prevented him from looting in the Holy Land, and that he came back poorer than he should have done.”

Geoffrey had forbidden his men to loot on certain occasions-especially when the victims were already on the brink of starvation or he felt that they had suffered enough at the grasping hands of the Crusader army. But he had not realised that his few attempts to instil a sense of compassion and decency in his troops would have such far-reaching consequences.

“Did Ingram tell you what kind of information he had amassed from his enquiries?” he asked.

“No, and I knew he did not have the real truth,” said Adrian. “I was afraid he would make things up that would mislead you, and that would put you in danger when you went to investigate them.”

“So you prevented me from forcing him to admit that he had excavated Mabel’s sister’s grave to get a head,” said Geoffrey. “You did not want me to guess that Enide might still be alive-which I would have done had Ingram told the truth, because there were two severed heads in your kitchen, and yet neither was hers. You would have been exposed as the liar you are, and Enide’s secret would have been out.”

“I was only thinking of you,” said Adrian tiredly. “Believe what you will, but I have been scurrying around trying to make amends for others” evil deeds for weeks now. Of course I wanted to protect Enide, but I did not-do not-want to see you harmed in all this mess. I thought if I could keep the truth from you for a few more days, you would leave anyway.”

“Francis told us that there were others who intended to kill King Henry,” said Geoffrey, thoughtfully. “If Enide is still alive, as you claim, then I think she may well be planning to visit King Henry to demonstrate first-hand her penchant for regicide.”

“You are quite wrong,” said Adrian forcefully. “I spoke with her after you left my house last night. She set off several hours ago to become a nun at Glowecestre Abbey.”

“Enide has already left?” cried Geoffrey aghast.

Adrian nodded. “She often said she was considering taking the veil.”

“The only veil Enide will be considering is the one that will cover King Henry’s corpse!” cried Geoffrey. “How could you believe her after all this lying?”

“You are talking about your sister,” said Adrian coldly. “She cares deeply for you.”

“So she might have done, once,” said Geoffrey. “But a long time has passed, and it seems we are both different people. I thought I knew her from her letters, but you yourself have told me she could not write. I have been living under a false impression of Enide for twenty years. The child I left behind would not have murdered kings, or chopped off the heads of corpses! I neither know nor understand the woman she has become.”

“Then do what you will, but remember that she always said she liked you better than the others.”

“That is probably because I was not here to argue with. But enough of this; here is Helbye. And Barlow with him,” he added in surprise, seeing the two soldiers picking their way along the path on sturdy mounts. “Go home, Adrian. You have done more than enough harm already.”

“I must try to put an end to all this,” said Adrian, grasping the reins of Geoffrey’s horse. “I will come with you, and explain to the King what has been happening.”

“You would be a fool to try,” said Geoffrey. “Do you think he will pat your head and allow you to leave after you admit that you knew of the plot to kill his brother?”

“But I do not believe that Enide was trying to kill Rufus,” objected Adrian. “She went to Brockenhurst to warn him. And she has no intention of harming King Henry. You are wrong!”

“I am not,” said Geoffrey wearily. “And you know it. Francis the physician must have told you what he told me-that his little gang planned to kill Rufus, and now want to kill King Henry.”

“No!” cried Adrian desperately. “Enide would never harm anyone.”

Geoffrey regarded him sombrely. “Really? I think she has already taken someone’s life.”

He hesitated. It was not pleasant to see his cherished memories of his younger sister so brutally shattered, but Enide, it seemed, had been more treacherous and cunning than the rest of the Mappestones put together. Or was he misinterpreting what he had learned, to draw grotesquely inaccurate conclusions?

Adrian was gazing at him. “Who do you think Enide has killed?”

“She told you that she was in fear of her life from one of the family, so you helped her steal and desecrate the corpse of a woman who had considerately timed her death to coincide with Enide’s need for a body.”

The blood drained from Adrian’s face. “I see what you are thinking, but you are wrong! That woman passed away in childbirth.”

“And was Enide present when this woman died?” asked Geoffrey. “Did she help the midwife?”

“Well, yes, she did, actually” said Adrian. “But Enide did do kind things from time to time.”

“I am sure she did,” said Geoffrey bitterly.

“It did not seem such a terrible crime to use the body of one already taken to God to save the life of another,” said Adrian weakly.

“That does not sound like your own logic, Father,” said Geoffrey. “I imagine that is how Enide argued her case. But let us continue. Anyone who has had any dealings with my brother Henry will know that he would not stand by and accept the word of a priest that his sister was dead. He would want to see for himself. Enide knew this perfectly well, and deprived the corpse of its head, secreting it away in a niche in Godric’s secret tunnel-it would not do for it to be found, because then everyone would suspect that Enide was not dead at all. After all, how many decapitated corpses are there around here?”

He and Adrian exchanged a glance that suggested there were rather more than most people imagined. Adrian opened his mouth to speak, but Geoffrey hurried on.

“So Enide was then free to do whatever she pleased. Even her fellow conspirators-my father and Francis-did not know she was still alive, and she allowed her family to grieve without the slightest regret. Now she tells you she is going to Glowecestre to take the veil, and you believe her?”

“Yes, I do,” said Adrian sincerely. “She said that she wants to atone for desecrating the corpse.”

“And then there was Stephen’s wife, Pernel,” said Geoffrey. “Pernel was indiscreet about the plan to kill Rufus, and so she was killed. I wonder who arranged that.”

“But Pernel died of a falling sickness,” said Adrian, startled. “It happened just after mass. Pernel was not a good woman-she was unfaithful to her husband and she was greedy and scheming-and everyone assumed she had died because God had punished her for setting foot in His church.”

“Do you believe that?” asked Geoffrey sceptically. “If so, it does not offer much hope for the rest of us miserable sinners.”