Geoffrey declined the bread Bale offered, then rested his elbows on his knees and listened to the argument that broke out when Bale refused to share the food. Roger ordered the squire to accommodate the others, but only after he had taken the best for himself.
‘What was in that water, Ulfrith?’ asked Geoffrey after a while.
Ulfrith regarded him in alarm. ‘Nothing! Why?’
‘It tasted bitter. Did you add anything that will make me sick again?’
‘Look!’ Ulfrith seized his flask and took several large gulps, although he winced as they went down. ‘See? The leather is old, so perhaps you can taste the tanning.’
Geoffrey was not convinced but supposed Ulfrith’s concoction could not be too deadly if he was prepared to drink it himself. He turned his attention back to Roger and Lucian.
‘I did not kill Edith!’ Lucian was shouting. ‘Galfridus believes me or he would have locked me away. He accepts that I was praying all night, so why do you not?’
‘You did not recite a single office aboard ship, so why would you start now?’ snapped Roger. ‘Or were you doing it as penance for Edith’s murder?’
‘Go to Hell,’ muttered Lucian through clenched teeth.
At that moment, Philippa arrived. Still scowling furiously at Roger, Lucian offered her his arm and invited her to stroll to the fishponds with him; good manners would not permit him to leave her in the company of rough knights, stupid squires and loutish Saxons.
‘Do not go down there,’ Harold called after them, cheeks bulging with the best part of a bulb of garlic. ‘There have been reports of pirates in the area, and that part of the abbey is a bit remote.’
‘Pirates?’ asked Philippa in alarm. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes – ask Ulfrith,’ replied Harold. ‘One of them shot at Sir Geoffrey, who is only alive now due to Ulfrith’s remarkable courage and foresight.’
Geoffrey laughed, earning himself a black glare from Ulfrith. The scowl intensified when Philippa declined to ask for details and flounced away at Lucian’s side. Appetite gone, Ulfrith tossed his bread back into the basket, where it was seized by Magnus, moving fractionally faster than Harold. Magnus grinned, gratified by the victory over his rival.
‘Are you saying these pirates came inside the abbey?’ Juhel asked uneasily.
‘Fingar told me he has been wandering around as he pleases,’ replied Geoffrey.
‘He had better not wander near me,’ growled Roger, ‘or he will find a sword in his gizzard.’
‘Do you still intend to leave today?’ asked Juhel. ‘To tell King Henry what is happening here? If so, you will have to watch yourselves, or Fingar and his crew will be after you in a trice.’
‘He is still not right,’ said Roger, jerking his thumb at Geoffrey. ‘And I refuse to let him go until he is. Besides, I do not want to leave without meeting the Duke. What is in that bag around your neck, Bale? It seems to get bigger every time I see it.’
‘This?’ asked Bale, shooting a nervous glance in Geoffrey’s direction. ‘Just bits and pieces.’
‘Not from Werlinges, I hope,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I thought the cross and habit were all you took.’
‘They were,’ said Ulfrith, standing up for his comrade. ‘He had the ring from Vitalis on the beach, and he stole money from the dead shepherd in the wood. None of that is from Werlinges.’
Furious, Bale came to his feet fast, a dangerous look in his eyes. Ulfrith was startled, not understanding what he had done wrong. Geoffrey stood, too, and glared at Bale until he subsided.
‘What did you tell him that for?’ Bale demanded furiously.
‘I was defending you,’ snapped Ulfrith, angry in his turn. ‘I told him what you already had, so he does not assume it was from Werlinges. I was being a good friend to you.’
Geoffrey sat again, grateful Ulfrith’s brand of friendship did not extend to him.
Bale pulled a face at him, then turned to Geoffrey. ‘I was going to tell you, sir, but then you gave me that lecture at Werlinges, so I thought I had better keep quiet. I borrowed this from the shepherd, because I thought it was odd – a shepherd having this much gold.’
Geoffrey took Bale’s purse and emptied it into his hand. He was astonished – Bale had found a fortune.
‘There are coins here from Flanders and Ireland,’ he said, puzzled. ‘What was a shepherd doing with them? And how did you take Vitalis’s ring when I was watching you?’
‘I did it when I wrapped his body in the cloak,’ replied Bale, with the grace to look shamefaced. ‘Sir Roger taught me a sleight of hand, see.’
Geoffrey sighed, annoyed with Roger as well as Bale. ‘My back was turned for a moment, and you flouted my orders?’
‘I tried to tell you about it, sir, but you would not listen. Here.’ Bale passed the ring to Geoffrey, who regarded it in distaste. ‘I took it because, although it was on Vitalis’s hand at the beach, previously it belonged to him.’ His accusing finger indicated Magnus.
‘Not me!’ said Magnus, startled. ‘I do not know what you are talking about.’
‘Are you sure, Bale?’ asked Geoffrey.
The squire nodded with such conviction that Geoffrey was sure he was telling the truth. Magnus obviously sensed he was about to be exposed, because he leaned forward to inspect the bauble and hastily revised his story.
‘Oh, yes, that is mine. It went missing on Patrick, and I assumed a pirate had taken it.’
Geoffrey was puzzled. ‘But you said nothing – and it is valuable.’
Magnus was dismissive. ‘When I am king, I shall have a hundred such rings.’
‘But you are not king yet,’ Geoffrey pointed out. ‘And until you are, you need all the treasure you can lay your hands on. Why you were so stoic about its loss?’
‘It is not valuable, actually,’ said Roger, examining it closely. ‘So it would not have been worth making a fuss. Especially with the likes of those pirates.’
‘But it is a pretty bauble even so.’ Magnus held out his hand. ‘Give it back.’
‘No,’ said Geoffrey. Even if Magnus was its rightful owner, there was a reason why he had not mentioned its loss, and it was all very suspicious. He was not about to hand it over.
Harold gazed at him in astonishment. ‘You intend to keep it for yourself? But Bale has admitted to hauling it from a corpse! It cannot be lucky.’
Geoffrey handed it and the purse to Bale. ‘I do not want it, but nor should it go to Magnus. Not yet.’
‘This is outrageous!’ spluttered Magnus furiously. ‘And I do not forget such slights.’
He stalked away, his tall, thin body held rigidly erect.
‘He bears grudges,’ warned Harold unhappily. ‘And he can be spiteful – so watch yourselves.’
It was warm in the sun, and Harold began to doze. Ulfrith wandered away, and Geoffrey supposed he was going to torture himself with the sight of Philippa and Lucian.
‘The boy is a fool for that woman,’ declared Roger, grimacing in exasperation.
‘I shall be glad when we leave this place,’ said Geoffrey unhappily. ‘His infatuation is making him sly and vengeful. He did add something to his water flask to stop me from using it, you know. He would never have resorted to such a low trick before.’
‘Did he, by God!’ exclaimed Roger. ‘That is low, especially as you have been so sick. If it brings about a relapse, I shall cleave his head from his shoulders. Of course, he is not the only one who likes to tamper with drinks: Lucian poisoned you with his cure-all.’
‘But Magnus took it, too, and he was not nearly as ill as I was.’
‘But he was unwell. And he also used Juhel’s balm for his scratched arm. Yes, I know we have been through this before, but think about what Bale said about stealing Vitalis’s ring.’
‘A trick he learned from you,’ said Geoffrey, rather coolly.
‘Yes, yes.’ Roger’s wave of the hand indicated that was irrelevant. ‘But think about it: he deceived you with a sleight of the hand. And Lucian and Juhel did the same. Lucian must have had two phials – he and Magnus drank from one, but he exchanged it for another when it was your turn. And the same goes for Juhel’s balm: one part of the pot is for healing and the other is for harm. Remember his jar – red one side and blue the other? It is so he can remember which is which.’