“Very well,” he snarled. “Now let us plan how to catch the real murderer.”
Chapter Thirty
The wind struck like a berserk warrior slashing through a band of enemy soldiers.
“It will be a cold winter,” Ralf growled, pulling his cloak tightly around his body.
“Sit closer to me, Crowner,” Conan replied. “The shrubbery is thick here.”
Hesitating a moment too long, Ralf moved only a fraction of an inch.
“You still do not trust me?”
The crowner was annoyed by Conan’s deep chuckle. “Have you given me good reason not to be suspicious?” Ralf waited for a response, but his companion said nothing. “A man friendly to Jean is murdered on the road to the priory. When the clerk dies soon after, anyone responsible for the king’s justice would find the circumstances troubling. You did offer an explanation I decided not to counter, but…” This time he let the sentence die in the chill air.
For a moment, the men said nothing, huddling to protect themselves as the wind grew in force and howled at them with primordial fury.
Just as quickly, it waned.
“True. Said clerk is murdered.” Conan’s teeth chattered.
“You suggest that an armed guard be set outside the priest’s door, a proposal you surely realized would be offensive to a man devoted to the peaceful worship of God.”
“And he was outraged. You claim I would have guessed as much, but I believed that the man had more sense than most of his vocation. I was mistaken.”
Ralf laughed. “Well said and I concur, but that does not mean I suspect you less of devious motives.” He rubbed at his nose which was dripping from the icy air. “After Davoir rejects your plan, Renaud offers a solution more acceptable to our priest, a godly resolution in which the clerks patrolled and offered prayers instead of carrying knives or cudgels.”
Conan snorted, then uttered a curse as the wind swirled around them once again. “Tonight, I would prefer that they be here, not us.” He looked over at the crowner. “If I thought it would help, I would even pray. But Heaven is supposed to be cooler than Hell, and I might choose Hell just to be warm again.”
“I confess a growing fondness for your wit, but I have known killers who entertained the crowds with fine jests before they were hanged.”
“Continue, Crowner. I shall save my breath to warm my hands.”
“You tell the clerk that he would please his master by taking the duty at the bleakest hour, one that was probably the most dangerous time.”
“I felt sorry for the lad. Davoir does not like him, and I wanted Renaud to do something that would please the man.”
“He does as you suggest and is struck down. At that time, you also just happened to be nearby.” Ralf wiggled stiff fingers at the captain to forestall a mordant reply.
“And I find him lying in the path outside the door to his master’s chambers and swiftly carry him to the hospital so his life might be saved. What troubles you about that, Crowner?”
“Explain why I should not conclude that you struck the clerk yourself, with force that was not quite lethal, and took him to the hospital to avoid any suspicion sticking to your untanned hide? Since Davoir refused an armed guard, you would be able to slip through the watch of half-asleep clerks who were not as eager as Renaud to prove himself to his master. Remove him, and you have access to your target.”
“Why even suggest Renaud patrol alone if I could have crept through a band of mewling clerks with greater ease? That conclusion was unworthy of you, Crowner! Instead, I propose to you that I might have come to the priory to watch for problems, knowing that the clerks might be fools, but still a company of fools. Renaud, by himself, would be a target, or at least a light enough guard that the culprit might be drawn out and caught by me. Is that not a more reasonable explanation for my actions?”
“I do not know you. Why should I trust any benevolent intent?”
Conon sighed. “You are making this very difficult, Crowner.”
“My purpose is not to make matters comfortable for these who commit murder.”
“You did not quarrel with me over the guard’s death at the inn.”
Ralf shrugged. “Since I do not have the time to confirm your tale about the man’s past crimes and you have complete authority over those under your command, I conceded.”
“If need be, I can give you a name, a man who will give you the proof you wish and one whom you will not doubt. Unless you arrest me, I see no need to do that. But, if you would assume for a moment that I am not lying about that incident, do you think I would do what was needed to protect Jean from harm then and kill him once he was here? Use logic, Crowner!”
Ralf bent closer. “If you have something to tell me that would relieve me of my suspicions, say it now.”
“I was told you were a good man, if a trifle blunt. A soldier’s soldier.”
“Stop prancing, cokenay! You are not a womanish courtier posing in a silly dance. We are talking about a hanging offense.”
Conan stiffened. “I might have killed another who said that to me.”
The wind whistled through the shrubbery in which they hid, mocking all their attempts to avoid it.
Shivering, the men glared at each other in silence.
“Very well, Crowner. You have won this toss. To continue the dice game is neither efficient nor necessary. I know you are a man of honor who keeps his word so the only price I ask for the truth is your silence.”
“Unless the silence puts me at odds with the law, you have my word.”
Conan pointed to the sword resting in front of him and swore on the hilt.
“Quickly. My ears grow numb.”
“You have heard that the accusations against Prioress Eleanor and her monk were made by a baron who quarreled with Sir Hugh and longed for retaliation. What no one here knows is that a man, who must remain nameless, learned early of this baron’s plan to attack the reputation of Sir Hugh’s sister and also achieve his old desire to have his own sister returned to the position she had lost.”
“Your meaning,” Ralf muttered.
Conan grinned and deliberately hesitated.
The crowner spat at the man, but the wind shifted direction and he rubbed his face dry in disgust.
“Our nameless man heard a rumor that this baron’s petty act of revenge might be used as a cover for a more dangerous purpose than a minor struggle for power between two noble families. He urged the king to provide protection for the party coming from France. I was ordered to lead the guard that would protect Abbess Isabeau’s brother and his herd of clerks during their entire journey in England.”
“Petty? Minor?” Ralf’s face was a shade of red brighter than could be blamed on the wind.
“Yes, Crowner, a trivial thing. There was no basis for the accusation, and the falsehood would swiftly become evident. A time-consuming, disturbing annoyance for Prioress Eleanor? Yes. More than that? No.”
The crowner grunted. “It has become more than that, but I agree with you in principle.” He nodded at Conan to continue.
“This same nameless man was afraid that the investigation ordered by Fontevraud Abbey might be used to create a deep rift between our king and Philip the Bold. If violence occurred on English soil against a man in high favor with the French king’s brother, bitterness and desire for retaliation might result. Neither king wants that, but the skin protecting pride within royal breasts is thin. I have said this before, but this is not my conclusion alone, Crowner. It comes from a man far more knowledgeable than I in matters of State.”
“Were you given any more specifics about this threat? The cause or names of those involved?”
“Neither the king nor his source said more, but the unnamed man is valued for his sources and loyalty to King Edward. Whether he knew the perpetrators or not, he would have responded to any threat of violence that might impact our king.”