The Poisoned Serpent (26 page)

“Aye, my lord. That is correct.”

“You did not think that Bernard was a dangerous man and it would not be safe for you to approach him?”

Alan hesitated for a moment, looking for a trap. Hugh’s gray gaze was cool and impersonal. At last Alan replied, “I never thought of any danger to myself, my lord.”

“In other words, you were so convinced of Bernard’s harmlessness that you approached him with no fear. Is that correct, Alan?”

“Aye,” Alan returned cautiously. “That is correct.”

“Another question, Alan. How closely did you look at the body of the earl?”

“Close enough to see the blood around the stab wound in his chest, my lord,” Alan replied spiritedly.

“Did you touch him?”

“Nay, my lord. I did not touch him.”

“Then you did not notice if he was still warm or if he was already starting to turn cold.”

Alan’s eyes dilated as he saw where Hugh was heading. “I…I could not say, my lord.”

Hugh nodded. “Thank you, Alan.” He turned back to the justiciar. “That is my last question, my lord.”

The justiciar looked thoughtful. “Have you any questions, Sir Gervase?” he asked the sheriff.

“No questions, my lord,” the sheriff replied.

“Then you are dismissed,” the justiciar informed Alan, who returned to his seat, uncomfortably conscious that everyone in the room was watching him.

As the sheriff called his next witness, Alan leaned toward Richard and whispered anxiously, “Did I do all right?”

Richard smiled and nodded. “You did very well, Alan.”

Alan was not completely reassured, however. Richard may have smiled with his mouth, but his eyes had remained cool.

As the next witness gave his testimony, Alan went over in his mind everything that he had said and couldn’t find anything that could possibly harm Richard.

The sheriff’s next few witnesses testified to the fact that Bernard had made threats against the life of the Earl of Lincoln. When the justiciar questioned Bernard about the truth of these statements, he said stoically that he could not remember making them, that he had been drunk.

“Was there any reason for you to wish the Earl of Lincoln dead?” the justiciar asked.

“None, my lord,” Bernard replied.

“If that is so, then why were you making these threats while you were drunk?”

Hugh was on his feet in a flash. “May I say something, my lord?”

The justiciar’s mouth pinched at its corners with suppressed annoyance. “Go ahead, Lord Hugh.”

“In the testimony of the witnesses, I heard no mention that Bernard ever threatened the life of the earl. The witnesses maintain that he said the earl would ‘do us a favor’ by dying. The implication of these words is that it would be good if the earl died of natural causes. That can hardly be construed as a threat.”

The sheriff leaned forward and said, “There was an implied threat, Lord Richard. Bernard knew of the betrothal of the earl’s daughter to Lord Hugh de Leon, and Bernard has long been a friend of Lord Hugh’s. He would have benefited greatly if Lord Hugh had become the next Earl of Lincoln. In order to hasten this desirable end, I believe he killed the earl.”

“If that was indeed my motivation, Sir Gervase, I would certainly not have been stupid enough to kill the earl before Hugh was married to Lady Elizabeth,” Bernard replied. His voice was level but the anger he was suppressing was evident.

“You weren’t thinking. You acted in a moment of passion,” the sheriff said.

The justiciar’s oddly husky voice interrupted. “This is hardly an act of passion, Sir Gervase. This is a premeditated act of murder. The earl was lured to the Minster for one reason only: to kill him.”

“That is so, my lord,” the sheriff returned. “But in this discussion of motive, one fact must not be forgotten. Bernard Radvers was found, bloody knife in hand, bending over the dead body of the earl. If he is not guilty, then who is?”

“My lord,” Hugh said. “I have some further evidence that may shed light on this question.”

“You will have your turn to present evidence, Lord Hugh,” the justiciar said with a frown. “At the moment, we are hearing the sheriff’s side of the case.”

Except for a single nervous twitch at the corner of
his mouth, Gervase’s face had maintained its masklike look. “I have presented my evidence, my lord. Bernard Radvers was found bending over the dead body of the earl, a bloody knife in his hand. He had previously been heard by several men threatening the life of the earl. It seems to me that this is sufficient evidence to convict him of the murder of the Earl of Lincoln.”

“Thank you, Sir Gervase,” the justiciar said. He looked at Hugh. “Then you may present your evidence, Lord Hugh.”

Richard didn’t move, but Alan could feel his body stiffen. Alan’s own stomach tightened. Was this when Hugh was going to bring up the sheriff’s tax cheat?

Much to Alan’s relief and astonishment, Hugh said, “I would like to call Brother Martin to testify, my lord.”

A short, portly figure garbed in a brown robe and sandals came from the last bench to approach the witness’s place in front of Lord Richard.

“My lord, Brother Martin is one of the lay brothers at the Minster,” Hugh explained. “He is the one who laid out the earl’s body on the night he was killed.”

A noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob came from Elizabeth. Lady Sybil put her arm around the girl and patted her shoulder.

“What have you to tell us, Brother Martin?” the justiciar asked.

“My lord, I saw the earl’s body but half an hour after he had supposedly been stabbed to death in the Minster. He was cold, my lord. Very cold. Too cold to have been dead for such a short time. He began to stiffen shortly after we moved him to the mortuary chapel. I would say that he had been dead for at least an hour before he was found.”

A muted uproar arose among the watching witnesses.

The black eyes of the justiciar bored into the innocent brown eyes of the lay brother. “Why did you not come forward with this information sooner?” he demanded. “You must have known that Bernard Radvers was being held in custody.”

“My lord, I did not,” Brother Martin replied earnestly. “The day following the death of the earl, I was called to work at the hospital of Saint Mary’s in the north of the shire. I only returned to Lincoln yesterday. When I learned about the trial, I tried to see the sheriff. When he was not available, I went to Lord Hugh.”

“You are quite certain that the earl had been dead for an hour before Bernard Radvers was discovered bending over his body?” the justiciar asked sternly.

“Quite sure, my lord,” the lay brother returned. “I have seen many dead bodies, and the earl was not newly dead when I received him.”

The justiciar turned to the sheriff. “Have you anything to say in regard to this evidence, Sir Gervase?”

“Nay, my lord,” the sheriff replied. His face was bleak, and he looked older than his years.

“Thank you, Brother,” the justiciar said. “You may go back to your seat.”

As Brother Martin left the witness area, the justiciar said, “I think we can dispense with further evidence, Lord Hugh. I believe you have cast sufficient doubt upon the sheriff’s case for me to declare it inadequate.”

Hugh stood. “My lord, I ask your indulgence. I have further evidence that I believe will be helpful in identifying the man who truly did murder the Earl of Lincoln.”

The justiciar tapped his long, thin, immaculate fingers on the table. A deep line ran between his brows.

Hugh said, “This evidence has to do with another man who has been killed recently in Lincoln. John Rye is a knight who was serving his yearly knight’s fee at Lincoln Castle when the earl was murdered. Several days after the murder, Rye asked for early leave so that he could go home to his sick wife. In fact, his wife was not sick at all. He wanted time to pay a visit to his cousin, William of Roumare, Earl of Cambridge.”

There was a rustle throughout the room, as if everyone had just sat up straighter.

Lord Richard Basset froze.

Hugh went relentlessly on. “I know this because I paid a visit to Rye’s home of Linsay in order to talk to him. I sought him out because he was the only one of the castle guard whom I had not been able to question in regard to the murder. He was not at Linsay when I arrived, but he did return several days later. He admitted to me then that he had information that pertained to the murder of the earl and that he had tried to sell this information to William of Roumare.”

A number of exclamations of surprise issued from the audience. The clerk called for silence.

In a dangerous-sounding voice, Lord Richard said, “Why would Rye have gone to Lord William?”

“My lord, I am not the man who has benefited from the earl’s untimely death,” Hugh said. “Lady Elizabeth’s husband will no longer automatically become the next Earl of Lincoln. The earldom is once more the king’s, to give as he will, and I do not think there is much doubt as to who will get it.”

Next to him, Alan could feel some of the tension leave Richard. Apparently, Hugh was not going to reveal the market stall cheat after all.

The justiciar’s face was grim. “If I were you, I would be very careful whom I accused, Lord Hugh,” he warned.

“I have no intention of accusing William of Roumare of having a hand in the Earl of Lincoln’s death, my lord,” Hugh assured the justiciar.

Lord Richard’s face softened a little.

“William of Roumare did not purchase the information that John Rye offered him, my lord. I know this because Rye offered to sell the information to me.”

Once more, Alan felt Richard’s tension.

“I should have bought it,” Hugh said regretfully. “It was a mistake not to. If I had, John Rye might still be alive. I didn’t buy it, however. Instead, I demanded that he tell me what he knew. He refused, and I left Linsay. Soon after, Rye himself came to Lincoln. I believe he planned to use this knowledge of his to extort money from the murderer himself.”

The justiciar’s eyes narrowed to long black slits. “What information could a man like John Rye possibly have had?”

“My lord, I believe he saw the murderer giving the fatal messages to the groom, who is now dead. I call the messages ‘fatal’ because one certainly resulted in the death of de Beauté and the other was intended to convict Bernard Radvers of murdering him.”

There was not a sound in the armory hall. Everyone was so still that the scene might have been a painting.

The justiciar stirred first. “And you say that this John Rye was killed during his visit to Lincoln?”

“Aye, my lord.”

At this, the sheriff interrupted angrily. “My lord, John Rye’s death was an accident. It occurred during the camp-ball game that is played every year at our lo
cal Saint Agatha’s fair. One of the players was wearing a knife at his belt and Rye was stabbed by accident. It was unfortunate, but these things happen. You know that they do.”

“Do you have the man whose knife stabbed him?” the justiciar asked.

“We have been unable to discover who was wearing a knife, my lord,” Gervase admitted reluctantly. “No one will admit to seeing anyone with a knife at his belt and, needless to say, no one is stepping forward to confess.”

The justiciar said, “It seems excessively odd that three people should die of knife wounds in Lincoln within the span of two months. Do you have many such incidents here, Sir Gervase?”

“Nay, my lord,” the sheriff admitted.

Hugh made an infinitesimal movement, and in so doing managed to draw the attention of everyone in the room.

How does he do it?
Alan wondered with a strange mixture of awe and resentment.

Hugh said, “May I point out to you, my lord, that Bernard Radvers was in custody during the time that John Rye was killed.” He took one step toward the justiciar’s table. “If indeed it is true, and I think it is, that John Rye was killed by the same man who killed the Earl of Lincoln, then that man cannot possibly be Bernard Radvers.”

The audience burst into excited talk while Hugh and the chief justiciar looked at each other.

The clerk called for silence.

The justiciar said, “If the murderer we seek is not Bernard Radvers, Lord Hugh, then who is it?”

“I believe I can answer that question, my lord. I
would ask for an opportunity to question several witnesses, and as I do so I believe the truth will be made clear.”

Under his warm cloak, Alan felt icy cold.
He is going to accuse Richard. He is going to expose the market stall cheat and accuse Richard
.

“Very well,” said Lord Richard Basset. “You may call your witnesses, Lord Hugh.”

The sheriff protested angrily. “My lord, I object to this latitude you have afforded Lord Hugh! We are here to try Bernard Radvers, not conduct a general inquisition.”

“Lord Hugh has raised a number of interesting points that appear to exonerate Bernard Radvers,” the justiciar returned coldly. “It seems to me that in your haste to claim that you had discovered the culprit, you may have been neglectful of inquiring too deeply into this matter, Sir Gervase. I would like to hear what Lord Hugh has to say.”

Gervase’s face was ghost-white as he replied in a monotone, “If that is your wish, my lord.”

“It is my wish,” the justiciar replied. “The king desires justice to be done in this matter, and I am here as his deputy to see that justice is indeed carried out.”

He looked at Hugh.

“Call your witnesses, Lord Hugh,” he said. “Let us see if you can bring a more convincing case than the sheriff has done.”

B
ernard leaned over and whispered urgently, “Don’t go any farther, Hugh. You have already done enough to establish my innocence. Don’t attack Richard in public. You haven’t sufficient evidence.”

Hugh just shook his head and continued to regard the justiciar. “My lord, I should like to call Sir Richard Canville as a witness.”

Bernard clenched his fists in anguished frustration.

The armory hall buzzed with excitement as Richard walked past the benches and took up his place between the chief justiciar and Hugh. Bernard knew that nearly every person present, with the exception of the justiciar, was aware of the long history of Hugh’s dislike of Richard. Hugh would find it almost impossible to convince this audience that his evidence was objective.

Richard looked magnificent as he stood there, his wide shoulders caped with a green, fur-trimmed mantle, his dark gold hair gleaming in the flickering light of a flambeau.

Hugh walked forward until he was standing only a few feet from his witness, making even more obvious the height difference between them.

That isn’t smart
, Bernard thought despairingly. Hugh’s slender, cloakless figure looked almost boyish in comparison to Richard’s superior height and breadth.

“Sir Richard,” Hugh said in a level, impersonal voice. “I have only a few questions to trouble you with.”

Richard looked down at his adversary’s composed, unreadable face. “Ask them,” he said crisply.

Hugh clasped his hands loosely behind his back. “Were you at home all evening on the night that the Earl of Lincoln was murdered?”

“Certainly,” Richard replied. “You have heard the testimony of my squire that I was at home.”

“I heard your squire tell us that you were home for a late supper. He said nothing about your whereabouts earlier in the evening.”

Richard frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”

“Let me make myself clear, then. We have heard testimony that the earl was probably killed at least an hour before Bernard Radvers found his body. Where were you at that time? Were you at home?”

Richard said, as if addressing a small child who has been rude, “I find your questions impertinent.”

“Humor me,” Hugh said.

Richard’s voice was even as he replied, but the set of his mouth betrayed anger. “I accompanied Lady Elizabeth and Lady Sybil to evening services at the Minster and they invited me to partake of supper with them. I returned home after that.”

“I see.” Hugh regarded him thoughtfully. “You had supper with Lady Elizabeth, and when you returned home you asked for something more to eat.”

“I require somewhat more food than ladies do,” Richard retorted.

Laughter came from the benches behind Bernard.

Careful, lad
, Bernard thought worriedly.
Don’t let him make you look a fool
.

“Did the earl join you and Lady Elizabeth?” Hugh asked.

“He did not,” Richard said.

“Did you see the earl at all that night?”

“I did not,” Richard said.

“Let us move on to another subject,” Hugh said smoothly, not seeming at all discomposed by his witness’s able defense. “John Rye was killed when a group of camp-ball players piled up in an effort to retrieve the ball. Were you in that pileup, Sir Richard?”

At this, Richard turned to the chief justiciar. “My lord, there is no reasonable basis for these questions. Lord Hugh is trying to harass me, and I object.”

Lord Richard Basset looked at Hugh. “What is the reason for these questions, Lord Hugh? For I must tell you, it seems to me as if Sir Richard is right.”

Hugh’s clear, flexible voice reached every corner of the vast hall. “My lord,” he said, “I believe that Sir Richard Canville is guilty of the murders of the Earl of Lincoln, the groom William Cobbett, and John Rye. If you will allow me to continue my questions, I will prove that this is true.”

A loud babble of voices came from the benches.

The sheriff stared at Hugh as if he were a madman.

Jesu
! Bernard thought in despair.
Now he’s done it
.

Grim-faced, the chief justiciar glared at Hugh. He said, each word pronounced with great precision, “This is the trial of Bernard Radvers, Lord Hugh, not of Richard Canville.”

Hugh stood before the justiciar, straight and slim, his gray gaze level with the justiciar’s, his hands resting, open-palmed, at his sides.

Richard stepped forward. “My lord, this is nothing
more than the continuation of a grudge that Hugh has held against me since our childhood.” He looked at Hugh, and when he spoke it was pity and not anger that resonated in the deep tones of his voice. “I have always wanted to be your friend, Hugh. There is no need for you to feel you must put me down in order to boost your own importance.”

Hugh ignored him and said to the justiciar, “My lord, the king has charged you with finding and punishing the man who murdered the Earl of Lincoln. I can give you that man if you will allow me to proceed.”

The chief justiciar’s narrowed black eyes were trained on Hugh. Bernard turned around to look at the witnesses assembled on the benches behind him, and found that they too were totally focused on Hugh.

It was a thing that Bernard had seen before, but still it amazed him, this ability of Hugh’s to dominate a room. It was not his words, it was something in him, some quality in his very existence, intangible yet absolutely commanding.

The chief justiciar said, “Give me a reason why Sir Richard Canville should desire the demise of the Earl of Lincoln.” And Bernard knew that he was going to let Hugh continue.

Hugh said, “My lord, I have witnesses present who will testify to the fact that the amount of money the sheriff was charging for the market stalls in the Bail was more than the amount of money he declared to the Exchequer. I believe that the Earl of Lincoln discovered this cheat and was killed in order to keep him from exposing it.”

Pandemonium erupted behind Bernard. The chief justiciar shouted angrily for silence, and slowly the noise died away.

The justiciar turned to look at the sheriff, who was sitting beside him. “How do you answer this charge, Sir Gervase?”

The sheriff’s face was as bloodless as a corpse. When he spoke, his voice was not quite steady. “Lord Hugh’s information is correct, my lord, but my son knew nothing about the cheat. I am the responsible party.”

The room was deadly silent.

Hugh said, “Are you speaking the truth, Sir Gervase, or are you lying to protect your son?”

“It is the truth,” the sheriff said. “I will swear to it on a relic of the Holy Cross if you wish. Richard only discovered what I was doing two days ago. He was…very upset about it.”

“Did the Earl of Lincoln discover this cheat?” the chief justiciar asked.

“Nay, my lord, he did not.” The sheriff’s voice was emphatic. “Lord Gilbert never once asked to look at the tax rolls. His interest was in my military preparations. He knew nothing at all about the tax cheat.”

“Can you prove this?” the justiciar asked.

“I believe I can, my lord. The only way the earl could have found out about the cheat was if he asked the Bail merchants what they were paying and then checked that sum against the tax rolls. I believe if you question the merchants you will discover that the earl made no such inquiries.”

Lord Richard Basset nodded. Then he turned to Hugh. “The Crown thanks you for calling its attention to this matter, Lord Hugh, but I agree with Sir Gervase that it is highly unlikely that the Earl of Lincoln would have discovered it. Which means that neither Sir Gervase nor Sir Richard had any reason to wish the Earl of Lincoln dead.”

Bernard felt sick to his stomach. The whole of
Hugh’s case hinged on Richard’s motive of wishing to hide the tax cheat. If it was true that the earl had not known of it, then Richard had no reason at all to kill him.

Hugh said, “If you will allow me to continue to present my evidence, my lord, I promise you that I will establish Sir Richard’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.” The soft intensity of his voice echoed through the silent room.

Give it up, lad
, Bernard urged Hugh in his mind.
Don’t make yourself look any more petty than you already have
.

Leaning back a little in his chair, the chief justiciar yielded before the will of the younger man. “Very well, Lord Hugh. You may proceed.”

Hugh turned to Richard and said, “Were you one of the men in the pileup where John Rye was killed?”

“I was, along with thirty other men.” Anger and contempt rang clearly in Richard’s deep voice.

“But you were there.”

“So I have said,” Richard returned evenly.

“Did John Rye communicate with you in any way during his last visit to Lincoln?”

“He did not,” Richard said. “I scarcely knew John Rye. There would be no possible reason for him to seek me out.”

“You are certain of that?”

“Of course I am certain.”

Hugh turned to the justiciar. “I would like to ask Alan Stanham a few more questions, my lord.”

After a moment of silence, the justiciar said, “Very well.”

“My lord,” Richard said commandingly. “I object to Lord Hugh’s attempting to intimidate my squire.”

“He has not yet questioned the boy, Sir Richard,” the
justiciar returned, “so it is rather beforehand to accuse him of attempted intimidation. If you would like to remain here in the witness area while your squire is questioned, you may do so.”

Richard looked grim. “I will remain,” he said.

Please God, please God, please God
, repeated itself monotonously in Bernard’s brain. This calling of Alan was a calculated risk on Hugh’s part. He had no idea how the boy was going to answer.

You’re a fool to call him
, Bernard had said when Hugh had told him what he planned to do.
The boy idolizes Richard. He will never say anything that might hurt him
.

Hugh had disagreed.
Alan’s adoration has been shaken a bit these last few days
, he had told Bernard.
I do not think he will lie to protect Richard. I think he will tell the truth
.

The voice of the chief justiciar calling Alan Stanham as a witness broke into Bernard’s thoughts.

Richard’s eyes were intensely blue as they followed the progress of his squire from his bench to the witness place in front of the justiciar.

Alan looked very young as he stood there, his fair hair shining like silver in the light of the flambeau. He looked at Hugh as if he were a wild boar about to attack.

Hugh said pleasantly, “Alan, I believe you accompanied Sir Richard around the fair on the day before the camp-ball game. Is that so?”

“Aye, my lord.” In contrast to his clarity when he earlier gave evidence, Alan’s voice was so faint, it could scarcely be heard beyond the first bench.

The chief justiciar frowned. “Speak up,” he commanded.

“Aye,” Alan said more loudly. “I was with Sir Richard for most of that day.”

“Do you know John Rye?” Hugh asked him.

“Aye, my lord.”

“You would recognize him without fail if you should meet him?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“During the time you spent with Sir Richard that day, did you ever see him in conversation with John Rye?”

Hugh’s voice never varied in its pleasantness. He might have been asking if Sir Richard had drunk any water, so matter-of-factly did he pose the question.

Bernard clenched his fists, waiting for Richard’s squire to reply.

Alan was so pale, the few light freckles that dusted his nose were clearly visible. He looked at Richard, standing like a splendid statue but a few feet away from him. Richard’s blue gaze returned his squire’s look steadily.

Alan said shakily, “It was a very busy day and I expect Sir Richard has forgotten, but John Rye did have speech with him that day.”

Thank you, God
. Bernard’s eyes closed in a momentary prayer of gratitude.

Richard said, “You are mistaken, Alan. I never spoke to John Rye.”

“Don’t you remember, my lord? We were in the silversmith’s shop and he asked to speak to you…”

Richard’s eyes were blue ice. “You are mistaken,” he said again.

Hugh said, “Alan, did anyone else witness this encounter between Sir Richard and John Rye?”

Alan’s hazel eyes were huge. He looked utterly miserable. Bernard felt a pang of pity for the boy.

“I believe the silversmith saw them, my lord,” Alan said in a voice that was close to a whisper. “I was look
ing at some knives and he was with me while Sir Richard and John Rye spoke.”

“Thank you, Alan,” Hugh said gently. “You may return to your seat.”

Alan did not look at Richard as he took his place in the middle of the benches.

“My lord, next I would like to ask Nicholas Rye to come forward as a witness,” Hugh said.

Nicholas looked very small as he came forward to stand in front of the chief justiciar. His brown hair was neatly combed and he wore a serviceable blue cloak around his shoulders. He appeared to be more composed than Alan had been.

“My lord,” Hugh said, “this is John Rye’s son, Nicholas. He has some information that I believe is important.”

In a voice that he unsuccessfully tried to make sound kindly, the justiciar said, “What have you to tell us, Nicholas?”

Nicholas’s little-boy voice was clear. “My lord, I overheard a conversation between my father and my mother before my father left to go into Lincoln for the last time. They were talking together in front of the fire in the great hall, and I was sitting nearby pulling burrs out of my dog’s coat. They knew I was there. I did not mean to eavesdrop on them…”

For the first time, Nicholas looked a little worried.

“I understand,” the chief justiciar said crisply. “You may continue.”

“Aye, my lord. Well, Papa was talking to Mama about something he wanted to sell. I remember that he said, ‘I should have gone to him right away instead of trying my luck with Roumare.’”

Richard made a small movement, which he instantly controlled.

“I remember that, my lord, because my father had just come back from a visit to Lord William of Roumare and we had needed him at home,” Nicholas said.