Simon Beaufort - A Head for Poisoning

It was not a long journey, he told himself, and the tunnel was dry for the most part. There was plenty of air, too. But he had not gone far before he felt his mouth go dry, and the familiar tightening around his chest began. He hesitated, despite his resolve to catch Enide.

“Geoffrey,” called Joan from behind him, giving him a firm but gentle push in the back to make him start moving again. “Did Hedwise kill our father with poisonous fish soup?”

“No,” called Geoffrey wearily, picking his way down the dark, slick steps. “He killed himself because Enide was preparing to murder another king. King Henry is cleverer than Rufus, and Father knew she was unlikely to succeed.”

“Rubbish!” came Henry’s voice from above him. “Enide would have succeeded very well if you had not intervened. Norbert had a good clear shot, and would most certainly have killed the King had you not distracted him.”

“Maybe,” said Geoffrey. “But Father did not want himself associated with it, and he knew he would be because the plotters were basically identical to the ones that hatched the first regicide-the one that never happened because someone else thought of it first.”

“And since I suspect that King Henry knows more than he is telling about his brother’s timely demise we had better not ask who,” said Joan. “So, all those accusations and counter-accusations about Godric’s murder were for nothing-no one killed him, no one poisoned him or Enide?”

“Right,” said Geoffrey.

“Well, at least the Earl of Shrewsbury did not get away with foisting his false will on us,” she said, after a moment. “Olivier managed to get his fat priest drunk and indiscreet, and he learned that the Earl really did forge the document that claims Godric left Goodrich to him. But it does not matter now-Goodrich is ours once more.”

“I cannot imagine that the Earl will accept defeat lightly,” said Geoffrey. “He will be back to try again.”

“I do not think so,” said Joan confidently. “He is no fool. He knows he has been beaten over Goodrich, and he will not risk the King’s anger to continue his war of attrition with the Mappestones. He might come for us if the Duke of Normandy ever claims the crown of England, but that will not be for many years yet-if ever.”

They had reached the large chamber at the bottom of the stairs. Geoffrey entered it cautiously, holding the torch above his head and his sword at the ready. The room was deserted, and appeared exactly as it had done the last time he had been there.

Joan shuddered. “What a foul place. And this is where Enide lived for four months?”

“Not all of the time,” said Geoffrey. “I imagine she stayed with Adrian on occasions, or Malger. She has not been here since Father’s murder or Rohese would have noticed.”

“I had no idea this room existed,” said Joan, running her fingers along the shelves curiously.

“But you knew of the tunnel,” said Geoffrey. It was not a question.

“Oh, yes. I was in my teens when the keep was being built, and since girls are not permitted the freedom of boys to go gallivanting around the countryside, I watched the castle’s progress with some interest. I guessed what the shaft was for, and I did my own exploring, and discovered the tunnel and where it went. Godric thought it was his secret, and I did not tell him that I knew about it.”

“He might have had you executed as a threat to his security,” said Geoffrey, smiling, but not entirely sure that it was too remote a possibility.

Joan grinned. “He might well have done. I explored the passage as far as the door to this room, looking for Rohese the night Godric died, but it was barred from the inside. I have never actually been in here.”

So that cleared up another loose end, thought Geoffrey. Joan had not been able to enter the room at the end of the tunnel because it had been barred at that point. Rohese, however, had found it open, and so Stephen must have unbarred it when he had gone from the woods up to Godric’s chamber. He had slipped through Godric’s room while Walter, Geoffrey, and Rohese had been sleeping, and returned later to argue with Godric after Walter had left.

Joan continued to explain. “When I got back to Godric’s room, you and Walter were preparing to go back to sleep. I hid in the garderobe passage until you dozed, so you would not know where I had come from. I had to move the chest from the door, back to the end of the bed. I wondered why you slept through the noise I made: Walter was drunk, but you were not. I did not know then that you had been drugged.”

“Why did you move the chest?” asked Geoffrey.

Joan regarded him with a sideways tilt of her head. “Because I wanted to leave, bird-brain! I could not get out with the chest blocking the door, could I? Anyway, I did not realise why you had put it there in the first place. I thought Walter had placed it there by mistake in his drunken stupor.”

“Hunting Rohese down to sleep with the Earl seems a little callous,” said Geoffrey. “She is only a child and surely too young to be thrust into the clutches of a man like him, even for only a night.”

“Nonsense,” said Joan. “She had been with the Earl every night since he forced his presence on us at Rwirdin-except for the last one, when he chose a girl from the village. Rohese was unreasonably jealous, and refused her favours to show him her displeasure.”

“She slept with him voluntarily?”

“Of course she did,” said Joan, surprised by the question. “Do you think I would let her go to him if she were not willing? It is something about which I happen to feel very strongly. I am in the process of preventing Julianna from falling victim to a similar fate, but Olivier mentioned that he had told you about that. I was a little concerned, actually, thinking that a Holy Land knight was hardly someone to be trusted to protect a young virgin. But you have proved that my fears were unfounded: not only have you not forced your attentions on her but you have been kind to her and Rohese.”

So Rohese had not been strictly truthful with Geoffrey when he had been so gallant in saving her from what had seemed to be a fate worse than death. He wondered what other lies or misleading statements she had made to him.

“Did you stand in for Rohese when she could not be found?” asked Geoffrey, and immediately regretted his impertinence. If she had, it was none of his business.

Joan glared at him in outrage. “I most certainly did not! What do you take me for? Have I changed that much since we last met?”

Geoffrey thought that she had changed very little. She was still aggressive, sharp-tongued, critical, and intolerant, but she was also somewhat prudish and not especially attractive. She certainly was not the kind of woman to leap into bed with any passing earl-or be the kind of woman any passing earl would want there. Geoffrey was embarrassed that he had asked such a question.

“Olivier stayed with the Earl that night,” said Joan stiffly.

Geoffrey was more embarrassed than ever. Joan saw his reaction and sighed in exasperation.

“Geoffrey, what is the matter with you? Has your stay in the Holy Land deranged your mind? Olivier played dice until the Earl was ready to sleep, and then played the rebec. Olivier is a very skilled musician and the Earl finds his playing soothing.”

“Ah,” said Geoffrey, not knowing what else to say.

Still offended, she looked around the room. “Someone has made this hole quite comfortable.”

“Do not stand around chattering,” called Henry, who had gone on ahead and was at the door that opened into the woods. “This door is locked and I cannot open it.”

Geoffrey’s blood ran cold. “We are trapped?”