Geoffrey rubbed his head. The quest was becoming less appealing by the moment. ‘The next letter is to Gwgan,’ he said, reading the name.
Pepin nodded. ‘I understand he is the husband of your wife’s sister.’
‘News travels fast,’ remarked Geoffrey.
‘The King told me,’ said Pepin. ‘He also said that you can be trusted absolutely.’
‘Good,’ muttered Geoffrey, wondering whether he should bungle the mission, so Henry would be less inclined to ask for his help in future.
‘Its contents are secret, so I cannot divulge what is in it,’ said Pepin. Then he grimaced. ‘Well, I could not even if I wanted to, because Eudo would not let me see it. The fourth letter is for Richard fitz Baldwin. Its contents are highly sensitive, too.’
‘Richard fitz Baldwin,’ said Geoffrey, frowning. ‘He is the brother of the man who built Kermerdyn’s castle – and then died of an inexplicable fever.’
Pepin nodded appreciatively. ‘Taking the trouble to learn about the people there shows initiative. There were rumours that William fitz Baldwin was poisoned because he was believed to have acquired some kind of secret.’
‘A secret that made him happy and successful.’ Geoffrey was thoughtful. ‘Perhaps he learned something that allowed him to blackmail someone in authority. That would bring him riches and promotion – and happiness would follow.’
Pepin was shocked. ‘That is a terrible thing to say! There was not a malicious or greedy bone in his body. As I understand it, his secret had to do with something more… ethereal. He found a way to cover himself with holy blessings.’
‘Right,’ said Geoffrey, feeling he was wasting his time. He brought the discussion back on track. ‘So I am to deliver a message to this man’s brother. I do not suppose its sensitive contents pertain to what happened to William, do they?’
‘I sincerely doubt it,’ said Pepin scornfully. ‘He died seven years ago, and I cannot imagine anyone still being interested. Richard runs the Kermerdyn garrison, so I imagine the message will be about troops or supplies.’
‘And the last letter?’
Pepin pursed his lips. ‘That is to be delivered to Sear.’
‘Sear? Of Pembroc?’
Pepin nodded with a disagreeable face. ‘I cannot abide the man. He is arrogant, condescending and ignorant. Moreover, he is in La Batailge, so I do not know why the missive cannot be passed to him here. The King’s orders are explicit, however – you can read them for yourself.’
Geoffrey was startled to recognize the King’s own handwriting. ‘It says that Sear’s letter is not to be delivered to him until we reach Kermerdyn. Why?’
Pepin scowled. ‘As I said, I have no idea. But it must be important, or Henry would not have gone to such trouble.’
It smacked of politics to Geoffrey, and he hated being part of it. ‘Why does Sear not carry these messages? He is here and is due to travel to Wales anyway. Or Edward, for that matter? Or Brother Delwyn. Why does Henry need me?’
‘He can hardly ask Sear to deliver a letter to himself, can he?’ said Pepin with a shrug. ‘However, it might be a good idea not to let anyone know what you are charged to do. Tell anyone who asks that you are delivering messages from Bishop Maurice instead. He will not mind.’
Geoffrey had grown increasingly appalled as Pepin described what Henry expected him to do, and he was annoyed that two more letters had been added. Moreover, if Henry trusted Sear enough to award him Pembroc Castle, then what was wrong with him carrying the messages? He did not understand at all, but thought the entire affair reeked of dark politics – the kind he tried to steer well away from. He was racking his brains for an excuse that would allow him to dodge the mission when the door opened and Sear himself strode in.
‘Sir Sear!’ exclaimed Pepin, shoving the letters out of sight in a way that was distinctly furtive. The auburn-headed knight’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘I was not expecting you today.’
‘Well, you should have been,’ growled Sear. ‘I cannot leave for Kermerdyn until Eudo has checked my tax-collector’s arithmetic, and I am tired of kicking my heels here. Where is he?’
‘Out,’ gulped Pepin, looking frightened.
‘Out where?’ demanded Sear, shoving past Geoffrey to grab Pepin by the front of his habit.
‘Easy,’ said Geoffrey, stepping forward to push him away. ‘He does not know where Eudo is.’
Sear’s expression was murderous, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword. Then he let it drop, although his posture said he had not relaxed his guard completely.
‘I saw you three days ago,’ he said. ‘You are Sir Edward’s friend.’
‘Hardly!’ exclaimed Geoffrey. ‘I have only met him twice.’
‘He is Sir Geoffrey Mappestone,’ gabbled Pepin. ‘Who will travel to Kermerdyn at first light tomorrow – or sooner, if Eudo signs the release for the messages he is to deliver.’
‘Messages for Kermerdyn?’ asked Sear incredulously. ‘Then why not ask me to take them?’
‘And there is Edward,’ added Geoffrey. ‘I imagine he would make a good courier, too.’
‘Bishop Maurice is a law unto himself,’ blustered Pepin. ‘And if he says he wants Sir Geoffrey to take these messages, then it is not for me to question him. Is that not right, Sir Geoffrey?’
Geoffrey nodded reluctantly, loath to be drawn into lies. He hoped Sear would not storm up to Maurice and demand an explanation, because Maurice was certain to look confused, and Sear did not look like the kind of man Geoffrey wanted as an enemy.
‘The King has intimated that he would like you all to travel together,’ blurted Pepin. ‘Brother Delwyn, Sir Edward, Sir Alberic and you two. He is fond of you all, and you will be safer in one big group.’
‘I am quite capable of looking after myself,’ said Geoffrey, becoming even less enamoured of the mission. Sear did not look pleased, either. ‘And large parties travel more slowly than smaller ones. I will make better time alone.’
‘You must do what the King suggests,’ said Pepin unhappily. ‘He does not like it when people ignore his requests.’
Geoffrey was ready to argue, but Sear spoke first. ‘Well, I am not a man to question His Majesty. I shall be honoured to travel with a fellow knight, especially one who, like me, has the King’s favour. I understand you fought on the borders last summer and helped to defeat Robert de Belleme.’
‘I played a small part,’ acknowledged Geoffrey cautiously.
Sear smirked. ‘I heard you fought him in single combat – and would have won, but the King stopped you from killing him. It is a pity. The world will never be safe as long as he is in it.’
Once away from the Chapter House, Geoffrey set out to hunt down Eudo, so that the releases for the letters could be signed. He did not understand why Henry should insist he travel with others, and intended to dissuade him of the notion. Surely, he would want his messages delivered as quickly as possible and would see there was no sense in wasting time while others dallied? Unfortunately, Eudo was nowhere to be found, and his scribes were concerned, because they had important documents that needed his attention.
‘I saw him with Brother Delwyn earlier,’ said Maurice helpfully, after ushering two scullery maids from his quarters.
‘I cannot see Delwyn being conducive company,’ Geoffrey said, watching the women scurry away, all giggles and shining eyes. ‘Especially for a man with elevated opinions of himself, like Eudo.’
‘Eudo is a nasty fellow,’ agreed Maurice. ‘Still, he is better than Delwyn. The man brought complaints from his abbot about Bishop Wilfred, and I doubt Henry enjoyed hearing them – he is not interested in the Church’s squabbles, or in emissaries who smell.’
‘In Welsh, del means pretty and w yn means lamb. His parents were deluded!’
Laughing, Maurice indicated that Geoffrey was to step into his rooms and partake of a glass of wine. ‘What is Welsh for “sly”? That is the word that suits him best. Far be it from me to malign a man I barely know, but he seems devious.’