‘You will speak for him,’ Lord Gilbert mused. ‘Yes indeed, he said that you would. He too tells this tale of the two of you journeying to Drakelow, finding the crown and returning with it, he to Aelf Fen, you to your sister’s house at Icklingham.’
‘He tells it because that’s exactly what happened!’ My cool, authoritative voice seemed to have flown away and I was screeching like a seagull. But Lord Gilbert was frightening me; I sensed that he did not believe me and I have learned to trust my senses. ‘I was with Sibert all the time and he didn’t kill anybody!’
Lord Gilbert’s suspicious expression softened and I thought for one wonderful moment that I had convinced him. Then he said, quite kindly, ‘But you are lying, aren’t you?’
‘No!’ I leapt up, stamping my foot for emphasis.
Lord Gilbert actually chuckled. ‘As I observed, didn’t I? A spirited girl!’ he said over his shoulder.
I knew there had been someone else in the room! I cursed myself for not having tried harder to see if I was right. My skin prickling with apprehension, I stared into the shadows at the back of the hall where I had supposed that the hanging concealed a door. Slowly, as if he was reluctant to show himself, a man walked forward into the light.
I stared at him and his intense dark eyes under their strongly marked brows stared right back. The lines of his face were pronounced and he had deeply etched grey circles under his eyes. His mouth was no more than a thin, hard line. He was, I reminded myself as I tried not to recoil, a man in mourning, for he had just lost his nephew and his heir.
It was Baudouin de la Flèche.
My fear came racing back, multiplied a hundredfold. It had been scary enough nerving myself to face Gilbert de Caudebec, and I knew his reputation as a benevolent lord who did not harry and bully his peasants and his tenants like many Normans did. Baudouin de la Flèche was a very different matter; I had no logical reason to be so frightened of him but I was. I tried to tell myself that his fearsome expression was undoubtedly the result of his grief — some people, especially men, adopt anger as a way of dealing with the pain — but it did little to reassure me. As I stood there forcing my knees to hold firm and stop shaking, commanding myself not to do as I longed to and turn and flee, I knew he brought with him danger. Terrible danger.
He smiled, a ghastly expression that I detected had not a jot of sincerity in it. Then he said — and his light, cheerful tone, like his smile, was so incongruous and so clearly forced that I was amazed Lord Gilbert did not spin round to stare at him — ‘You did indeed, Gilbert, and spirited barely describes our young visitor adequately.’ He moved closer, and I forced myself to stand firm. ‘I would say also that it is very brave, for a little village girl to stride into her lord’s hall and contradict him so forcefully!’ He laughed, a short ha! which sounded unpractised, as if he did not do it very often. ‘But sadly,’ he went on, his face falling in mock sympathy, ‘we already know the truth.’ He turned to Lord Gilbert. ‘Is that not so?’
‘Yes, yes!’ Lord Gilbert beamed. ‘The young man, Sibert, tried to make us believe this highly imaginative tale, of you accompanying him and Romain de la Flèche to Drakelow, and even as he did so we all doubted that he was telling the truth.’ He broke off, looking at me closely. ‘How old are you, child?’
‘Fourteen.’ My midsummer birthday seemed months ago.
‘Fourteen,’ Lord Gilbert echoed. ‘But you look so much younger, like a little girl who has yet to bloom into womanhood and still needs the security and protection of her family.’
I seethed with silent fury. If only he knew, fat, condescending pig that he was!
‘Little village girls do not go on illicit, unauthorized journeys half across the country,’ Lord Gilbert stated flatly, and there was a worrying note of finality in his voice. ‘In addition,’ he added, smiling at me, ‘as soon as Sibert made this claim — that you were with him all the time and would vouch for the fact that he committed no murder — I sent men to find you, as you know, but also to question your kin.’
Oh, no! I had caught myself in my own trap! I had lied so convincingly that everyone had believed me.
‘Your sister and her husband repeated the account you gave of your week of absence from their house,’ Lord Gilbert went on, ‘in such detail that there can be no doubt they were telling a true story. In addition, my men spoke to your aunt, with whom you were staying, and she verified the fact that you never left her house.’ He eyed me with sudden interest. ‘You are skilled as a healer, I am told?’
He stared at me expectantly and I had to answer. ‘I’m learning,’ I admitted grudgingly.
‘Good, good,’ said Lord Gilbert. ‘I must remember that. I have a pretty young wife and an adorable baby son, did you know that?’
‘Er-’
He did not wait for me to answer. ‘They are in fine health at present,’ he said, smiling happily, ‘but my wife will be reassured to know we have a young healer close at hand in case of need.’
He was patronizing me and I hated it. If he or this wife of his had wanted a healer they’d have sent for Edild, not me. He was being kind because he was sorry for me. I’d come on a silly, childish mission to try to save my friend by spinning a ridiculous yarn than nobody in their right minds would credit, and he had dismissed me out of hand. Now he was trying to comfort me. In a minute he’d be offering me a sugar cake, as if I were an infant who had fallen over and banged her head.
If my fury and my shame had not been so violent, I might have realized that it was actually quite decent of him. Many lords would, I am sure, have sent me packing with a scolding and possibly a thrashing to remind me not to tell lies.
Perhaps he did not wish to jeopardize the eel supply.
Baudouin had been silent during this hopeless exchange with Lord Gilbert. He had circled me — I had sensed his presence behind me and had found it deeply unnerving, my skin crawling in response to his proximity — and now he went to stand beside Lord Gilbert’s chair. I looked at him. He — or more likely one of Lord Gilbert’s servants — had brushed down his dusty tunic and polished his boots, and now he could be seen for the wealthy, powerful man that he was. Observing my eyes on him, he smiled faintly, as if to say, look well, child. Admit you stand no chance against me.
He wants justice, I thought. He is in desperate need of somebody to blame for Romain’s death and he will settle for Sibert. He will not rest till Sibert hangs for the murder of Romain.
I quaked under his black stare but I made myself hold his glance. You might once have been rich and important, I said to him silently, but that time has gone, for you have lost your manor. I don’t know why you claim that Sibert killed your nephew but there has to be a reason and I shall find out what it is and save my friend.
I don’t know if he perceived my thought. If he did, he made no visible sign. But then I felt a horrible sensation — it was if a wave of heat from a huge, uncontrolled fire had just hit me. I flinched and his smile twisted until it was a look of pure evil.
I suspected, for all I hoped it was not so, that I had just made an enemy.
FIFTEEN
I had told them at home that I was going back to Goda’s house and as I left Lord Gilbert’s manor, my face still burning from my humiliation, I thought I might as well do just that. I had nerved myself to do the one thing I could think of to save Sibert and I had failed, miserably and utterly. Lord Gilbert had all but patted me on the head and told me to go away and play. Baudouin de la Flèche had revealed himself to be a truly frightening man. But then, I reminded myself, trying to be fair, he had just lost his nephew and heir and perhaps was not in his right mind. Thinking of him in his lonely grief I almost felt sorry for him.