‘Well, you and Roger fought bravely, and I stopped King Ulf from joining the affray. But I was surprised King Magnus and King Harold did not help us. They must have received some weapons training, and I did not expect them to be so useless.’
‘True, but perhaps we should be glad that Juhel and Lucian stayed out of the way.’
‘Juhel would have been all right,’ said Bale. ‘On the ship, he fought a pirate and defeated him with ease, even though the fellow had a dagger and Juhel had only his bare hands.’
Geoffrey was surprised. ‘You have not mentioned this before.’
‘You did not ask. But Juhel is a fighting man. Maybe not with a sword, but with a knife or his hands, he would be a match for most men.’
Geoffrey considered the information. ‘It seems there is more to Juhel than meets the eye – or more than he is willing to let anyone see.’
‘I still think he poisoned you,’ said Bale. ‘He is a sly bastard.’
When Geoffrey made no reply, Bale took the ring and pouch of gold from his bag and began fiddling with them. Geoffrey took the purse and looked again at the coins, before handing it back.
‘You saw the shepherd’s body. Roger believes Brother Lucian killed him. What do you think?’
There was another lengthy pause. ‘His head was under the tree trunk,’ replied Bale eventually. ‘Squashed almost flat. But there were no other wounds. Lucian may have held him under the tree when it fell, I suppose, but it would not have been easy to manage.’
‘Then I imagine it was an accident. Did you notice his clothes? Did he look Saxon?’
‘Oh, yes. His hair was long and braided, like Saxons used to wear it. Why?’
‘Because it is too much of a coincidence for a shepherd to be loaded with gold near where Saxon princes are gathering. And it is odd that a pauper would oust a monk while a storm raged outside – even the most reclusive of men do not deny shelter under such conditions. But this shepherd did not want witnesses.’
‘Witnesses to what?’
‘To this rebellion. I am sure there is more to it than we think.’
Geoffrey’s plan to leave for Winchester before dawn the following morning was thwarted when he found the stables virtually empty. An unhelpful groom eventually admitted that the abbey’s entire stock had been taken to the blacksmith for re-shoeing, and all that remained were Galfridus’s personal nags, which he never lent to anyone. Geoffrey strongly suspected the animals had been quartered somewhere nearby, ready to be used by the Saxons.
‘I could walk,’ said Geoffrey, returning to Roger after a frustrating interview with Galfridus, during which his request to borrow one of the remaining mounts was politely but firmly denied.
‘You would make poor time,’ said Roger. ‘You are not yet strong enough for such a trek. And I am not leaving you here unprotected, so do not think of asking me to go instead. But Galfridus is playing with fire! I am beginning to think he wants this rebellion to succeed. He does nothing to stop it, and now he refuses to help you warn the King.’
‘I suspect he simply does not want to be without a means of escape should the situation turn nasty. Damn! Without horses, our only other option is to stay here and see what we can do to thwart this uprising. I hope to God that Breme has delivered that letter.’
Roger patted his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Do not fret. He is a reliable fellow.’
Geoffrey went to the church, but the melodic chanting from the chancel did not soothe him this time, and he prowled restlessly along the nave and aisles, looking at the carvings on the pillars without really seeing them. Roger knelt with his hands pressed together, his heavy features arranged in an expression he imagined was devout. Ulfrith stood behind him and stared miserably at the central crossing, where Philippa loitered with Lucian.
Meanwhile, Juhel leaned against a pier near the south transept, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Harold, who was chatting amiably to some lay-brothers. The Saxon said something to make them laugh, and the sounds of their mirth caused Ralph to storm from the chancel to berate them. When the sacristan had gone, Harold said something else that sent them into paroxysms of merriment, although the laughter was quieter this time.
‘Ulf was not a fellow for giggles,’ remarked Magnus to Geoffrey. ‘He was an iron man, who frightened even his closest friends with his cold heart and ruthless determination.’
‘Then you must be glad he is dead. He sounds a more formidable rival than Harold.’
Magnus’s expression was dismissive. ‘Harold is no rival! Look at how he fraternizes with servants. I cannot imagine how he will manage at the head of an army – he will be too busy gossiping with his stable-boys.’
‘What about your cousin Gyrth?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Would he have made a good general?’
‘Yes, and his death is a bitter blow to our cause.’ Magnus regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you should join us. There will be great rewards for men involved in our victory – and dire punishments for those who side with the Usurper. You would be wise to consider your future.’
‘I will take my chances with Henry.’
Magnus’s expression turned to anger. ‘You are a fool, and I shall personally see that you regret your decision.’
He turned on his heel and strode away, not caring that he powered through a procession of monks. Several outraged glances followed him, but Geoffrey saw more that were admiring and hopeful. With the end of prime, monastics and visitors alike began to trail towards their breakfasts. Roger was one of the first, Bale hot on his heels.
Harold walked with Geoffrey, breathing in air scented with newly cut grass. ‘It is far warmer here than inside that church. Why do builders always make them so cold? When I am king, the first thing I shall do is commission a warm church. Will you accept the challenge? Roger tells me you are interested in architecture.’
Geoffrey laughed. ‘Such a project would be wholly beyond my meagre capabilities.’
Harold laid a hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder and lowered his voice. ‘I heard what Magnus said, and I want you to know that I will not let him harm you.’
‘I am not worried about Magnus.’
‘You should be. Now our time is close, he is becoming unsettled and dangerous. He told me last night that he will not rest until he has eradicated every Norman from England.’
Geoffrey watched Harold waddle away, thinking he had never encountered a less likely horde of rebels. He was jolted from his musings by a yell and watched Bale lumber after the dog, which was racing away with a piece of smoked pork. Not wanting to be blamed for the theft, he ate his breakfast alone outside the refectory, watching sparrows squabble for crumbs at his feet. Suddenly, droppings splattered on to the bread he was lifting towards his mouth.
‘That is a sign of good fortune,’ said Juhel, who happened to be passing. ‘But you are wise to be out here, because Magnus is holding forth again. Do you think his claims have any substance? There is certainly a lot of Saxon coming and going, and the fish ponds are thick with folk.’
‘That is because Galfridus told the layfolk to catch as many carp as possible, so there is a good supply for when the Duke arrives.’
Juhel was unconvinced. ‘Delilah has the right idea about that Magnus, and so does your dog: they both took an instant dislike to him.’
‘What do you think they see in him that we do not?’
‘That he is more dangerous than he looks. I am a stranger here, and what is happening is really none of my business, but I do not like to see a country torn asunder with silly plots. Do you think there is anything we can do to stop this before it goes too far?’
‘I sent a message to the King,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘And de Laigle should have dispatched a warning, too. I imagine it will not be long before someone comes to investigate.’
‘Good,’ said Juhel. ‘I wish I had done the same – I count His Majesty among my list of acquaintances, you know. Incidentally, Magnus is a liar. Do you recall that scratch on his arm at Werlinges? Well, I think he received it fighting Ulf. He ran into the church, then raced out a few moments later with Ulf at his heels.’