‘His Grace sends for you.’
‘Again?’ Owen groaned, rose slowly, made his way to a table with an ewer and dish for washing.
‘I told the servant that you were resting. There is no need to hurry.’ Sir Robert sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes worried. ‘His Grace wishes a word before we dine tonight. With you and Master Chaucer. What is it about, my son?’
‘Houghton mistakenly believes that I care about his problems,’ Owen said, splashing water on his face. He departed before Sir Robert had a chance to ask more questions. Geoffrey waited in the main hall, speaking with much gesturing and wagging of the head to a woman who was richly dressed and fair of face. She covered her mouth daintily when she laughed.
‘We are summoned,’ Owen said to Geoffrey.
The woman’s eyes drank Owen in and she smiled brightly, forgetting to cover her bad teeth.
‘Mistress Somery of Glamorgan,’ said Geoffrey.
‘God go with you, Mistress,’ said Owen. ‘I pray you forgive me, but the bishop is expecting me and Master Chaucer.’
‘Captain,’ she said with a flirtatious tilt of her head, a flutter of her lashes. ‘I look forward to making your acquaintance.’
Geoffrey hurried away with Owen. ‘It is not fair how they look on you.’
The man had peculiar priorities. ‘Have you any idea why the bishop sends for us?’ Owen said.
‘Not the least.’ With his short legs, Geoffrey had practically to skip to keep up with Owen’s long strides, which made him breathless.
Owen relented, slowed down, told him of the body.
Geoffrey was fascinated, but did not see what it had to do with them.
That made a pair of them. ‘I cannot but think that the bishop has learned something to link the body with us. What of John de Reine? Do you know anything of his appearance?’
Geoffrey paused, understanding Owen’s suspicion. ‘I do not like to think-’
‘Neither do I. Was he fair?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Let us hope I am wrong.’
They marched in silence through the corridor leading from the great hall to the bishop’s hall.
Bishop Houghton got to the point as soon as he learned Geoffrey knew of the situation. ‘How would you proceed in this business, Captain?’
What had transpired since Owen left Houghton? ‘Surely you have a coroner, Your Grace. And staff who assist you in keeping the peace?’
Houghton fussed with a sleeve, feigning distraction, as he said, ‘He wore Lancaster’s livery.’
‘I noted that.’
‘It is a delicate matter. The Duke of Lancaster and the Duchess Blanche, may God rest her soul, have provided me with the funds to build a college for the vicars. It is much needed. I cannot tell you the trouble the vicars manage to- But that is not the point. The delicacy. You must see, I wish to keep it a secret. .’
How like Thoresby he sounded. ‘It is too late for secrecy — all the city buzzes with the news of the corpse at the gate,’ Owen said.
Houghton seemed distracted by the hem of his sleeve. ‘I cannot keep the body a secret, of course. But who he was- One of my vicars served as chaplain at Cydweli Castle a year past. He identified the body.’
So that was what had happened while Owen slept. ‘Then you have the information you need.’
‘His name is John de Reine,’ Houghton said, as if he had not heard Owen. ‘The man you were to meet at Carreg Cennen.’
‘John de Reine,’ Geoffrey muttered, as if testing the name against his memory. He stole a glance at Owen.
So he was right. But with the realisation came a twinge of unease. How much did the bishop know? Uncertain how to answer, Owen let the silence lengthen.
Houghton glanced from one to the other with a puzzled frown that suddenly brightened into an embarrassed smile. ‘In faith, I leap ahead without explaining,’ the bishop said. ‘Forgive me. Pray do forgive me. It is a fault with which I continually struggle. I am in the Duke’s confidence, gentlemen. You need not worry about what you say to me. The Duke thought it wise that another Marcher lord know of your purpose. Of his concerns about Owain Lawgoch’s supporters, whether Lascelles has gone over to their side, what that might mean to Cydweli.’
Looking much relieved, Geoffrey said, ‘Would that he had informed us.’
Owen might have used stronger words than Geoffrey’s, and his feeling was less relief than irritation.
‘What I wish to discover is why John de Reine was in my lordship. He had arranged to meet with you at Carreg Cennen,’ Houghton said.
‘A sudden urge to go on pilgrimage?’ Geoffrey suggested with a grin.
Houghton clenched his teeth and took a deep breath as if to keep himself from saying something he would regret later. ‘The man was brutally murdered, Master Chaucer.’
Owen’s companion blushed and bowed his head.
‘The Duke told you why we were to meet with Reine in particular?’ Owen asked carefully.
‘He did.’ Houghton nodded. ‘I confess to being uneasy about the young man’s intentions, betraying his father to the Duke.’
He did indeed know the heart of it. ‘His was a choice few sons would make out of love,’ Owen agreed. ‘But Lascelles’s choice of a wife seems unwise in these uneasy times.’
‘Of course. Still. .’
‘Who was Lascelles’s father-in-law accused of harbouring?’ Geoffrey asked. ‘A known supporter of Lawgoch?’
‘One whom the people call merely the Fleming. Amusing, considering how the country round Haverfordwest is overrun by Flemings. As to the man’s supporting Lawgoch, he is an opportunist. It was the Earl of Pembroke’s mother, a Mortimer, who heeded the rumour, and when Lascelles gave Goronwy sanctuary in the Duke’s March, she made haste to inform Lancaster. She knows the Fleming because he has worked for the Mortimers in the past. I do not know what she knows of his present activities.’
‘And hence the ambiguity.’
‘Indeed. Was Gruffydd ap Goronwy harbouring a real traitor, or had he found himself on the wrong side of the Mortimers?’ Houghton rubbed his forehead. ‘I did not know it was the son of Cydweli’s steward who lay in the undercroft when I sent his fellows away.’
‘Whose fellows did you send away?’ Owen asked.
‘Reine’s fellows, Cydweli men.’
‘When?’
‘This morning. They rode up to Tower Gate and demanded to see the body that had been left there.’
The bishop was full of surprises. ‘Cydweli men came here today?’
Houghton nodded. ‘Demanding to see the body.’
‘What did they say when they saw it?’
‘They did not see it. They had no littera marchi. I sent them away. They had been sniffing round here earlier — several days ago — though not so boldly.’ Houghton paced. ‘I assure you, Captain, I am and always shall be the Duke’s ally. I would do nothing to impugn him, his authority or his honour. But I am lord here, and I cannot allow the Duke’s constable — or his steward — to order his men into my lordship and challenge my authority.’
‘I have no quarrel with that.’
‘But now it seems I behaved rashly. I had no idea it was John de Reine. He may have known of some danger and sent for the men, who came too late. But they gave me no explanation.’
‘Then I very much doubt he had sent for them,’ Owen said. ‘Yet it is strange, so many from Cydweli in St David’s.’
Houghton’s pacing became more vigorous. ‘Reine took a risk in writing to the Duke of his father’s inappropriate marriage. Was he silenced by his own father? Or those loyal to his father?’
‘You do not have a high opinion of Lascelles,’ Geoffrey remarked.
The bishop stopped. ‘You misunderstand me. I have never before had reason to distrust the man. In faith, I know almost nothing of Lascelles. But his natural son has been murdered and left at my doorstep, and I was one of the few people privy to his- Well, you must see that many would consider Reine disloyal to Lascelles.’
‘Was the Duke wrong in trusting Reine?’ Geoffrey asked.