Hrype and I edged closer to her and stared down at what she was indicating. I could see it immediately: across the front of both shins there was a red mark, a deep indentation that in one or two places had cut into the thin flesh.
‘That must have hurt,’ I said, wincing in sympathy.
‘It perhaps explains the sequence of events,’ Hrype said thoughtfully. ‘It would appear that he slipped, or tripped, and somehow as he fell he managed to bark his shins on the planks of the causeway. Perhaps he landed in the water; perhaps on the causeway. Either way, he was down, no longer on his feet, and, since he was a tall, strong man, I believe that is relevant.’ He paused. ‘Let us say that he landed, either on the planks or in the water, face down. It would then have been relatively easy for his assailant to raise their weapon and bring it down repeatedly on the back of his head.’
We all thought about that; even Sibert who, now that we were no longer talking about brains and poking at what was left of Derman’s, had crept forward to join us around the body.
It was he who voiced what I’m sure we were all thinking. ‘It wouldn’t have taken a man to kill him, then,’ he said slowly. ‘Even a woman could have done it.’
Although none of us said the words aloud, a woman like Zarina seemed to echo through the little room.
SIXTEEN
Hrype straightened up and said, in a tone that seemed to reject any contradiction, ‘I shall go and tell Sir Alain what has happened.’
Edild and I looked at each other. In her eyes I read compassion, and she waited for me to say what I’m sure both of us were thinking. ‘But we can’t!’ I whispered urgently. ‘If Zarina did this, he’ll take her off to be penned up in some horrible cell and she’ll be tried and they’ll hang her, and Haward really loves her, it’ll break his heart and he’ll never find anyone else!’
The flow of words left me exhausted. I found I was crying, tears rolling steadily down my face.
Hrype said, very gently and kindly, ‘I understand how you feel, Lassair. But listen to what I say: for one thing, it is not at all certain that Zarina had anything to do with her brother’s death. Sir Alain does not strike me as a man to make a hasty judgement, and I-’
‘He fathered Ida’s baby!’ I hissed, trying and failing to whisper and shout at the same time.
‘You don’t know that!’ Hrype flashed back. ‘All we can be certain of is that he visited Lady Claude at Heathlands during the period when Ida became pregnant.’
He was right. I had to admit it, despite my own certainty. Glumly, I said, ‘What was the other thing?’
‘Hmm?’
‘You said, for one thing. That implies there’s something else.’
He gave a swift, bleak smile. ‘Indeed there is, although you, passionate defender of what is right that you are, will not like it.’
‘Tell me anyway.’ I felt so weary, so tired with all the emotion, that I could hardly bring myself to care very much.
He thought for a moment, then said, ‘Lassair, it is impossible for us to dispose of Derman’s body in secret. This is a small village full of people all too ready to discuss and dissect their neighbours’ business, usually making wildly inaccurate and damning assumptions along the way. We were very lucky to bear him back to this house without anyone seeing us, and I do feel very strongly that we should not take that for granted.’ He paused. I had a fair idea of what he was going to say, but did not interrupt. ‘Everyone knows Derman went missing; many of the men of the village have been out searching for him.’ That gave me an idea but, again, I kept silent.
‘We could, I suppose, try to bury Derman’s body by night in some out of the way place and keep up the pretence that he never came back,’ Hrype went on. ‘That way, we would make quite sure that no suspicion will ever fall on Zarina and Haward.’ This time I couldn’t prevent my gasp of horror, but he held my eyes and I did not speak. ‘But think, dear child, think what would happen when our deception was discovered, as it would almost certainly be!’ He grasped me by the shoulders, his face so close to mine that I read the strength of his feelings.
I thought. I saw in my mind the four of us — Hrype, Sibert, Edild and me — sneaking out of the village on a moonless night bearing a large, heavy body in a blanket. I saw us walking for miles, right away from Aelf Fen. I saw us work through the hours of darkness to dig a deep hole and bury the body. I saw us return. Then I saw a band of men out searching for a fugitive, and I saw them discover the recently-disturbed earth. Derman had lived in Aelf Fen, and so they would come here looking for those who had killed and buried him.
I said, although I think I knew it was hopeless, ‘Wouldn’t Sir Alain and his officers assume that some of the village men had killed Derman? Enough of them have been threatening what they’d do to him if he ever turned up, and-’
Slowly, Hrype shook his head. ‘That would not be right, Lassair. We must not point blame where there is no blame.’
I remembered what had suddenly occurred to me a moment ago. ‘But it might be exactly what did happen!’ I protested.
He studied me. ‘Do you really think so?’
I thought. I thought for some time, trying to persuade myself. Eventually, I shook my head. This was, I felt quite sure, an intimate crime; Derman’s killer was far more tightly enmeshed in his life than a handful of angry villagers. Anyway, I had noticed that, as the tally of days since Ida’s death and Derman’s disappearance increased, so the number of voices baying for justice steadily lessened. People are fickle, really, their attention quickly diverted. We in Aelf Fen live hard lives, and it was understandable that private concerns should have slowly and surely overcome the brief excitement of a murder in our midst.
‘If we covered up Derman’s murder and tried to hide his body,’ Hrype said quietly, ‘we would never be sure that we had not been observed. We would wait, all four of us, for the tap on the door that brought the force of the law to us and our loved ones. We would already be guilty of covering up a murder and hiding a body. How quickly, do you think, would other accusations fly to stick to us?’
He was quite right. I thought of Zarina, of Haward. If we did as I wanted and tried to hide what had happened, the suspicion I wanted so badly to divert from the two of them would land square on their heads. They would suffer, my parents would suffer, and so would my siblings. Oh, and what about Froya? If Hrype and Sibert were dragged off in chains, what on earth would happen to her?
I felt myself slump as the fight went out of me. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Go and find Sir Alain.’
Hrype did not waste another moment. On his feet in the blink of an eye, he paused to rest a hand briefly on Edild’s shoulder and was gone.
Sibert rose, more slowly and reluctantly. ‘I’d better go home to my mother,’ he said wearily. ‘She’ll be worrying.’
That was an understatement. As he passed me I whispered, ‘Good luck,’ and he gave a quick quirk of a smile.
Alone either side of dead Derman, Edild and I looked at each other. She reached out for the blanket and draped it over the body. ‘I will wait with him,’ she said, tucking in the folds of the heavy material as if soothing a sleeping baby. ‘Go where your heart is, Lassair.’
For a moment I thought she was referring to my Norman. My Rollo. He had been much in my mind that morning, and I had wished I had his strength and resourcefulness to help and support me. But quickly I realized that Edild meant my brother.
‘Send for me if you have need of me,’ I said as I, too, got up.
She looked up and smiled. ‘I will.’
The scene into which I entered when I reached my parents’ home was touchingly tender. My father stood just inside the door as if to proclaim his right to defend his loved ones. My two younger brothers sat beside the hearth, Squeak looking belligerent, little Leir puzzled. Zarina sat on Haward’s bed with Haward on one side and my mother on the other. Each held one of her hands, although she had to keep detaching one or other of them to dry her tears.