Dead Man's Secret (14 page)

‘Have they?' asked Geoffrey warily.

‘Oh, yes,' whispered Pulchria, swaying closer. ‘All the time. And my husband is very eager to meet you. He would like to learn the secret of your success.'

He could smell her heady perfume, and her eyes were dark with promise. Her beauty was rather dangerous, Geoffrey thought, taking a step back, and it would see him in trouble if he yielded to it.

‘Secret?' he asked, struggling to keep his mind on the conversation. ‘I have no secret – and I am not successful, either.'

‘Of course you are. We both want to know how you turned Goodrich – an impoverished outpost – into the envy of the region.'

‘That had nothing to do with me,' said Geoffrey, as she leaned closer still, treating him to a view of her bosom. ‘Joan is the one who has done the transforming. Ask her.'

‘I would rather talk to you,' breathed Pulchria. Her perfume was similar to that worn by his duchess, and he felt his heart begin to pound. He forced his thoughts to more practical matters.

‘Abbot Mabon has been telling me about some butter William ate before his death,' he began.

Pulchria stepped away from him. ‘You mean William fitz Baldwin?' she asked incredulously. ‘He died seven years ago. I thought everyone had forgotten about those silly rumours. There was no truth in them – just gossip and spite.'

‘Mabon said the butter was made by your husband and was a gift from you.'

‘It was,' said Pulchria sullenly. ‘And perhaps it
was
a little past its best – dairy produce spoils quickly – but it was certainly not rancid. And nor was it poisoned.'

‘So you think William died of natural causes?'

Pulchria pouted. ‘Of course! Half the town visited him on his deathbed, because he was considered such a saintly man, and when I went he had some sort of seizure – he shuddered and thrashed about, then went limp. Clearly, an ague killed him – perhaps one caught sitting by the river in the damp.'

‘Mabon said he had black fingers.'

‘I did not notice. To be frank, I was watching his face, to see whether he might whisper his secret. Unfortunately, all I could hear were prayers to the Blessed Virgin. What do you think of virgins, Sir Geoffrey? I consider them overrated.'

‘I do not know many,' said Geoffrey, as she moved towards him again.

‘Neither do I.' She gave a slow, smouldering smile that turned her eyes silvery black. ‘Can you think of anything we might do to pass the time until the hawkers return?'

Geoffrey nodded as he stepped around her. ‘Yes – see my wife.'

Despite his efforts to save Hilde's blushes, Geoffrey was still acutely aware of the grins and nudges of the servants as he crossed the hall and walked up the stairs. Trying to ignore them, he looked at the changes Joan had made since he had left.

During his childhood, the great hall had been a dark, forbidding place, with little in the way of comfort. Joan had changed it almost beyond recognition, with tapestries on the walls, clean rushes on the floor, and smart, well-polished furniture. A fire always blazed in the hearth, and he was amused to see there were even one or two rugs scattered around. Edward would be pleased.

He ran up the spiral steps and opened the door to the bedchamber. He was startled to find Hilde fast asleep, and supposed she had not required as much time to prepare as he had allowed her. She was lying on her back with her mouth open, and several bottles of unguents indicated she had gone to some trouble to render herself alluring. Touched that she should bother, he sat on the edge of the bed, which woke her.

‘I thought you were not coming,' she said, rubbing her eyes drowsily. Then she shot him a sharp glance. ‘Was my mouth open?'

‘No,' lied Geoffrey. ‘I was waylaid – first by Leah, then by Mabon, and then by Pulchria.'

‘Pulchria,' muttered Hilde. ‘She is a tremendous beauty, with her elegant figure and golden locks. Joan and I dislike being in the same room with her. She makes us feel fat and old.'

‘You are both worth ten of her,' said Geoffrey gallantly.

Hilde's eyes narrowed. ‘Did she make a play for you? I imagine she did, because she has been through every other man in the household. Except Olivier, who would not have her.'

‘Neither would I. She has Roger and Sear lined up for later, so I hope they do not quarrel over times.'

‘She will ensure they do not, lest one decides to find someone else instead, and she misses out. But never mind her. I have been thinking about Kermerdyn. You can order me to remain here, but I swore marriage vows in a church to stand with you in times of trouble. I do not intend to break them.'

It was a difficult stance to counter, given that Geoffrey took oaths seriously himself. He sighed, wishing he was in the Holy Land, fighting at Tancred's side. It would be a lot safer and less complicated.

‘You can talk to me,' Hilde went on quietly. ‘You will find me a good listener, and I can see you are troubled. Tell me what is happening.'

Geoffrey had not talked seriously to anyone since Bishop Maurice. He had confided in Roger to a certain extent, but the big knight was impatient with the mission's complexities and had again encouraged Geoffrey to abandon his responsibilities for the Holy Land. Geoffrey realized it would be a relief to tell someone about the worries that plagued him.

‘Henry has set me three tasks,' he began. ‘But the more I learn about them, the more I see he is sending me into some very troubled waters. First, I have five letters to deliver, four of them to men who are here in Goodrich. Sear is not to have his until we reach Kermerdyn, although Henry declined to tell me why. Richard and Gwgan can have theirs today, but I just tried to pass Abbot Mabon his, and he declined to take it.'

‘He is not very interested in administrative matters,' said Hilde with a shrug. ‘And he does not like the King, so I am not surprised he wants his deputy to deal with whatever it contains.'

‘The last letter is to Bishop Wilfred. The second task is to assess whether Mabon or Wilfred is more deserving of the King's approbation. They dislike each other apparently, but he wants to know who will emerge victorious, so he can be sure of supporting the winning side.'

Hilde laughed without humour. ‘And the last task?'

‘To investigate a suspicious death that occurred seven years ago.'

Hilde sat up. ‘Not William fitz Baldwin's?'

‘You know about it?' asked Geoffrey, surprised.

‘Yes, from Isabella. Apparently, he was just some sullen Norman when he arrived in Kermerdyn, but by the time he finished building Rhydygors, he had become good, kind and saintly. His luck improved, too, and everything he did was successful.'

‘Except for the fact that he died before his time.'

‘People were jealous of him, even his friends – Sear, Alberic, Mabon, Cornald, his brother. It was common knowledge that he had discovered a secret, which accounted for his transformation, but he would never say what it was to anyone, until he raved about it on his deathbed.'

‘Did he rave enough to let anyone guess what it might be?'

‘He gave snatches to different people. He told Isabella it was something to do with water.'

‘He told Mabon it occurred in the river,' mused Geoffrey. ‘A vision perhaps. Mabon is a curious man, do you not think? Rather irreligious for a monastic.'

Hilde laughed again. ‘He has startled us all with his pagan remarks, and Joan will be glad to be rid of him.'

‘What else do you know about William? Were there rumours regarding culprits for his murder?'

‘Oh, yes. Isabella said everyone who attended his deathbed should be considered a suspect, because they were all so keen to have his secret – Sear, Alberic, Cornald and Pulchria, Bishop Wilfred and Abbot Mabon, Hywel, Gwgan, Richard and Leah, Edward, Delwyn. It will not be an easy case to solve, because none of them is likely to confess.'

‘Mabon says he, Edward and Leah are innocent, because they had no contact with the butter that he believes killed William.'

‘Isabella also mentioned the possibility that the butter was to blame, but she said it could not be substantiated, because the stuff was thrown away before it could be inspected. However, William had been eating it over several days.'

‘Have any of these suspects inherited William's success? In other words did anyone acquire his secret?'

‘Not to my knowledge.'

‘Lord!' muttered Geoffrey, thinking again that Henry had burdened him with an impossible task. He said as much to Hilde and then he told her about Tancred's letters and Eudo's murder, and about the shipwreck and his vow never to return to the Holy Land.

‘I am sorry,' he said eventually, realizing he had been speaking for a long time. ‘You do not want to know all this.'

‘Of course, I do,' said Hilde softly. ‘Because now I will be able to help you when we travel to Kermerdyn – and I
am
going with you, Geoffrey. We shall discuss what you learn and make sense of it together. But we have talked enough today, and there are other matters to attend.'

She moved towards him with grim purpose.

It was late afternoon by the time Olivier brought his guests home, and, judging from the laughter around the bailey, a good time had been had by all, even Sear and Alberic, who gushed about Olivier's birds. Geoffrey tried to manoeuvre Richard and Gwgan into a position where he could speak to them alone, but there were too many people, and it would have looked suspicious had he persisted. Reluctantly, he decided to wait.

The party trooped into the hall, where Joan had prepared a feast fit for kings, with plenty of roasted meat, fresh bread, boiled eggs, fish, custard and even a small dish of cabbage for the rare few who liked a little greenery on their platters.

There was a raised table near the hearth, where the most important guests were seated. As lord of the manor, Geoffrey sat in the middle, with Hilde on one side, and Joan and Olivier on the other. Cornald and Pulchria sat next to Hilde, and Gwgan by Joan. Mabon, Sear, Alberic, Edward, Roger, Richard and Leah were opposite. Delwyn was relegated to the servants' table, much to his indignation.

‘Ignore him,' boomed Mabon irritably, as the monk's whine buzzed around their ears like an annoying insect. ‘He has ideas above his station.'

‘Did you do much looting in the Holy Land, Sir Geoffrey?' asked Cornald conversationally. He looked exactly as a butterer should – portly, with a greasy face and soft hands. He smiled a lot and had rosy cheeks and shining eyes. Geoffrey immediately liked him and was sorry he was saddled with such a wanton wife. ‘We heard great riches were there for the taking.'

‘
I
did plenty,' said Roger, before Geoffrey could reply. ‘
I
returned a wealthy man.'

‘It is easy to take from the weak,' declared Sear challengingly. ‘But I have always considered it more noble to tackle those better able to defend themselves.'

‘It is certainly more fun to remove treasure from a man who puts up a decent fight,' agreed Abbot Mabon amiably. ‘I have never enjoyed raiding peasants.'

‘I am glad to hear it, My Lord Abbot,' said Gwgan softly. His intelligent face was alight with amusement, and it was clear he was enjoying himself. ‘I doubt Prince Hywel would approve of you marauding those of his subjects who are helpless.'

‘Not
his
subjects,' snapped Richard. ‘The King's.'

‘Hear, hear,' echoed Sear, while Alberic raised his cup in salute at the sentiment. Leah put a calming hand on her husband's arm, and he shot her what Geoffrey supposed was a smile.

‘
I
would not have enjoyed the Crusade,' said Edward. ‘I understand there were flies. I do not like flies.'

‘You mean Saracens?' asked Roger, puzzled. ‘There were plenty of those.'

‘I mean
flies
,' said Edward with a fastidious shudder. ‘Creatures that land on rotting meat and then buzz around your head afterwards. Dreadful things!'

‘I kill them by the hundred,' said Richard. ‘My brother made me a gift of a special implement with which to swat them. That was before his change, of course. Afterwards, he told me they are God's creations and so worthy of mercy. I ignored him.'

‘Flies are not God's creations,' proclaimed Mabon authoritatively. ‘They are the Devil's. So swat away.'

‘Tell us more about your loot, Sir Roger,' invited Cornald. ‘Did anyone try to stop you, or were you given free rein to take what you liked?'

‘People
did
try to stop me,' admitted Roger. ‘But I usually killed them.'

Hilde regarded him coolly. ‘You had better not try to kill Geoffrey, should he ever attempt to instil a sense of honesty into you.'

‘He knows better than to try,' said Roger carelessly. He turned to Sear. ‘Why did you not volunteer for the Crusade? Was it beyond your martial skills?'

‘Not everyone can jaunt off for pleasure when there is work to be done,' replied Sear tartly. ‘I remained to tend to my responsibilities, like any decent man.'

‘Tell us about
your
adventures in battle, Abbot Mabon,' said Olivier quickly.

‘Later, perhaps.' Mabon raised a small phial and shook it jovially at the little knight. ‘It is time to take my tonic, you see. This miraculous substance is what makes me the man I am.'

‘Really?' asked Pulchria. She shot a speculative glance at her husband. ‘Where do you buy it?'

‘In Kermerdyn,' replied Mabon. ‘The apothecary makes it for me.'

‘It contains mandrake juice,' said Gwgan. ‘And other ingredients to make a man feel invincible.'