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"Place a shroud on him," Melanthe said. She looked at her maids and spoke in Italian. One of them ducked a courtesy and went quickly out past Ruck.

"My lady," the Englishman said, stepping forward and speaking mannerly French. He sank to one knee and rose again. "With all reverence—John de Langley, our lord the king's justice of the peace."

"What happened?" she asked, lifting her chin. "How did he die?"

"Madam, I am—"

"He fell from our boat into the river." Allegreto's voice cut across the justice's, sharp and cold. Then despair seemed to burst from him. "My lady, I tried to save him. I tried!"

"Madam, I am—"

"Will you believe such a thing?" One of Navona's men stepped toward the justice. "No, the bastard speaks false—my lord never fell from that boat. They've murdered him, these three together!"

A murmur ran through the onlookers. "Madam," the justice said tightly, "I pursue an inquisition to determine this matter, whether it be an accident or a crime to be brought before the jury."

Melanthe said nothing. Langley inclined his head to her.

"I've found no witness but this youth, the name of, ah—"

"Allegreto," she said. "He is Dan Gian's bastard son."

"Yes, my lady. And this is—?" He looked meaningfully toward Ruck.

"My wedded husband. Lord Ruadrik of Wolfscar."

The spectators didn't even attempt to remain quiet. A clamor broke out among them. Ruck walked to Melanthe's side.

"Yes, and so I have said," he declared, glaring about him to silence them. "I've defended my word before the king. The archbishop himself has heard my plea that my wife went in fear of her life from this man Navona, and could not say the truth." He faced the justice. "If this isn't proof enough—that she speaks my name now, when he's dead—then I'll gladly prove it by my sword again, against any who deny it."

"Hear him!" The single cry came from the passage, and instantly all the English took it up. The hail even rose from outside, the sound of a substantial crowd. "Hear him, hear him!"

"Oyeh!" the clerk bawled. "Silence for my lord justice!"

They settled into muttered grudging. Langley made a courteous nod toward Ruck. "I hear your words, Lord Ruadrik. I was in attendance on your honorable combat. You'll understand that I'm justice of the peace. A complaint and accusation is lodged here, which I must see into. If I adjudge there's no evidence of a crime, then no arraignment be required."

"They've murdered my lord Gian, may God avenge it!" the Italian shouted. He pointed toward Ruck. "Look you, that this Ruadrik threatened my lord, and assaulted him, and desired to steal his promised wife! All know it! Where's he been, this fine Lord Ruadrik, I ask you, that he was mourned for dead and now we find him here with her, almost in the very hour of the murder? They've conspired together, these vipers; Allegreto to have his own father's place, and those two to congress together as they will!"

"Where is the proof of this, I ask you once again," the justice said evenly.

"Will you not look to find another witness? Will you take the word of this lying baseborn?"

"He's spoken under oath," Langley said. "All this day I've conducted a search for other witnesses, and found none to deny his story."

"My lord would not fall from a boat!" the man said fiercely. "He was no such fool."

"In faith, any man might lose his balance, I think. And he wears weight enough in gold to drag him under."

"Pah!" The Italian made a motion as if to spit at Allegreto, though he didn't do it. "You know nothing! Ask him what he gains, this bastard! A fortune for himself, instead of a lawful born brother to take his place!"

"I did not kill my father," Allegreto said in a fragile voice. "Morello, you know I love him."

"Such love!" Morello snapped. "When he lies dead at your feet!"

"I love him!" Allegreto cried, his anguish echoing back from the roof.

Melanthe's hand tightened for an instant on Ruck's arm. The whole hall was silent as the sound of the youth's grief died away. Ruck watched, afraid that Allegreto would break in his misery, losing his wits and his tale. But he only closed his eyes, and then opened them, with a long and unblinking gaze at Morello.

The man looked away. He muttered something viciously in Italian.

"And still I hear no credible proofs, to say the boy speaks false," Langley said. The justice turned to his clerk, requiring Bible and Cross. "Lord Ruadrik, will you take oath to your innocence in the matter?"

"Verily," Ruck said. He placed his hand on the holy book and swore by his soul that he had not killed Gian Navona. He kissed the rood and crossed himself. As he stepped back, the spectators murmured approvingly.

"My lady?"

Melanthe made a courtesy as they brought the Bible to her. In a clear, quiet voice she swore the same.

The justice leaned over and spoke in his clerk's ear. The man nodded, and nodded again. Ruck put his hand on Melanthe's elbow, holding lightly. The onlookers were so still that they seemed to hold in their breath.

"I find no cause to convene a jury," the justice said.

A hail burst from the English, and a shout of anger from the Italians, quickly subdued when Langley gave them a furious scowl and his clerk demanded silence.

"In the case of murder, we are advised never to judge by likelihoods and presumptions, or no life would be secure. Therefore, without a witness who is willing to step forward and swear otherwise, the accusation of murder appears unfounded. I have no material reason to doubt the drowning of Gian Navona was accidental, may God pardon his soul."

He had to pause once again until order was restored, with two of the Italians bodily restraining Morello. The justice looked on him with raised brows.

"My lord Ruadrik has said that he will uphold his sworn word by his sword, as he has done before. Do we understand then that you wish to fight him?"

Morello jerked himself free of his companions, glowering. He cast a glance at Ruck and said nothing.

"If not," Langley said, "then I declare that the king's peace be best served by the swift dispersal of those who have no business here—and by the absence of some two-score foreigners of Italy from my county on the morrow."

* * *

When the gray friars came with a coffin of lead, Melanthe turned away and went upstairs. She didn't even keep a maid from among the Italians, but commanded them all to depart. Only the gyrfalcon and some chests had been brought back from the barks, and the bed, set up again in her chamber without its hangings.

Ruck would have followed her, but he looked back and saw Allegreto standing alone, gazing at the friars as they began their work of washing the body and sewing it up in its shroud.

Ruck didn't go to him, but stood by the screen until Allegreto saw him there. Ruck made a curl of his fingers to beckon. The youth seemed lost; he hesitated and then came quickly, like an uncertain dog that overcame its doubt, following Ruck into the shadowed passage. He put his hand on Allegreto's shoulder. "You're still wet. Do you have dry clothes?"

"On the boats." The boy looked up at him, his cloak of mastery vanished—strangely young, as if they'd all forgotten that he was hardly yet more man than child. "Should I change now?"

"Yes. I'll have something brought up from the wharf for you."

Allegreto caught Ruck's arm as he turned. "Cara?" he asked, the name a whisper.

Ruck paused. The youth looked off toward the pool of light falling into the passage from the hall, where the friars did their work with quiet words and soft splashing. In the set mouth and proud chin, Ruck saw that it was no fear for the girl's telling tales that concerned him. "I took Donna Cara to her betrothed, as she asked me. They've left now with the horses."