‘Anxious to be in at the kill,’ said Benedict with a grimace.
‘The whole castle is in turmoil.’
‘Then I am probably in the one quiet place here.’
‘Wrongfully.’
‘I hold no grudge.’
‘You should do, Brother Benedict.’
‘Forget about me, my lady. The only person of importance at the moment is Boio. The lord Ralph has gone to Coventry, you say? Did he tell you where else he and Gervase might go?’
‘No.’
‘Did he not mention Asmoth?’
‘Who?’
‘Asmoth. The blacksmith’s friend.’
‘Was that the woman you met at the forge?’
‘Yes. Did the lord Ralph talk of calling on her?’
‘No,’ said Golde. ‘But then he told me very little before they galloped off to Coventry. Who exactly is the woman, Brother Benedict? Tell me a little more about this Asmoth.’
Asmoth had to tell lies, plead and burst into tears before her neighbour finally relented and agreed to lend her the horse and cart. The loan was accompanied by all sorts of conditions and warnings and apologies for the state that the cart was in but Asmoth listened patiently to them and nodded solemnly.
Everyone knew how sick her father was but his daughter had moved him even closer to death’s door in order to work on her neighbour’s conscience. When he watched her leave he firmly believed that she was going home to collect the old man before driving him to Warwick and seeking the help of a physician. It never occurred to him that she might need the transport for another reason.
Asmoth waved her thanks and flicked the reins to make the old horse trot along the winding path. The rough-hewn cart was spattered with dirt and sheep droppings. It creaked as it moved and shuddered whenever its solid wooden wheels struck a stone or rolled into a dip. When Asmoth reached her home, she drove on past it.
Her passenger was still hiding in the bushes.
They made good speed on the return journey but halted when they came to a fork in the road. Ralph Delchard ordered two men to accompany Gervase Bret while the remainder stayed with him.
Their visit to Coventry had been worthwhile but the evidence which it had yielded in favour of the blacksmith was not entirely conclusive. Expecting only to hear Huna’s testimony, they had stumbled on a bonus in the shape of a dwarf and a performing bear. It was a productive encounter.
‘The man he saw in the forest was Grimketel,’ said Gervase.
‘It certainly sounded like him.’
‘The description fitted Grimketel perfectly.’
‘I’ll tell him that when I see him, Gervase.’ Ralph tossed a glance over his shoulder. ‘I am in two minds about the bear.’
‘His master gave us his word that Ursa would not kill.’
‘He would. If the bear was found guilty, it would have to be destroyed and the dwarf would lose his occupation. What man would not tell lies in his position?’
‘The animal seemed docile. There were no wounds on him.’
‘He could have grabbed Martin Reynard before the man could draw a weapon. The lord Henry claimed that Boio was the only person strong enough to squeeze his victim to death. Ursa could squeeze the life out of the blacksmith himself. He must remain a suspect.’
‘I still think our killer was human,’ said Gervase.
‘I am not so sure.’
‘Ursa was not involved. Remember what you said. The victim was killed the day before. Not during the night when Ursa roamed off. That lifts suspicion from him completely.’
‘I hope I was right.’
‘The bearward told the truth.’
‘How do you know?’
‘If he suspected for one moment that his animal had killed a man, do you think he would stay nearby for a few days? No, Ralph.
He would have fled Warwickshire as fast as he could. Forget the bear. Call on Grimketel. I will try to find Asmoth. One of them, I am certain, holds the evidence that we seek.’
‘If it is Grimketel,’ vowed Ralph, ‘I’ll squeeze it out of him. I’ll turn bear myself and hug that weasel until his bones crack. Meet me back in Warwick. Farewell!’
Ralph swung his horse in a semicircle and cantered off with the four men-at-arms. It was not long before he was on Adam Reynard’s land but he did not head for the manor house this time. A swineherd gave them directions to Grimketel’s abode and they pounded on their way. After hearing the dwarf’s account of what he had seen in the forest, Ralph was convinced that Grimketel had lied to them. Without his master to support his word, the man would be easier to break and Ralph intended to do just that. They emerged from a stand of elms to see the house at the bottom of a slope, smoke curling through the hole in its thatched roof. It was a small cottage with a run of outbuildings behind it.
Ralph led the way down the incline. When he got closer, he was surprised to see that Grimketel had other visitors. Philippe Trouville’s men-at-arms were waiting in a group outside. Ralph rode up to them.
‘Where is the lord Philippe?’ he said.
‘Inside,’ said one, pointing to the cottage.
‘Why?’
He dismounted and ran through the open door of the cottage before coming to a sudden halt. Grimketel would not be able to tell them anything now. He was lying on his back with blood oozing from a gash on his temple and obliterating most of his face. More blood had streamed from a wound at the back of his head and spread out across the earthen floor. Bending solicitously over him was Trouville. He looked up at Ralph.
‘He is beyond help, I fear.’
‘Dead?’
‘Yes,’ said Trouville. ‘Lying here just as I found him.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Minutes before you, my lord.’ He stood up. ‘Do you still say that the blacksmith has no blood on his hands?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Grimketel is his second victim.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Look at the way he died. Someone hit him so hard that he was knocked to the floor and his skull split open. This is Boio’s work, there can be no doubt. The lord Henry feared this would happen.
That is why he sent me here.’
‘Sent you?’
‘To warn Grimketel of the blacksmith’s escape. To tell him to be on his guard in case the fugitive came here in search of revenge.
Grimketel gave evidence that led to Boio’s arrest. It cost the poor fellow his life.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘I came too late.’
‘The blood is still fresh,’ noted Ralph.
‘I know, my lord,’ he said, guiding Ralph out. ‘That means the villain may still be nearby. I have sent one of my men to fetch the lord Henry. He is at Adam Reynard’s house. If we hurry we may be able to pick up the blacksmith’s scent.’
‘Why would he take such a risk in coming here?’
‘Risks mean nothing to him. What has he got to lose?’
Ralph was shaken by the turn of events. He looked back into the house and tried to work out exactly what might have happened.
Trouville was already back in the saddle.
‘Mount up, my lord,’ he urged. ‘You come in good time.’
‘For what?’
‘Riding down a murderer.’
Before he could reply, Ralph heard the posse bearing down.
Henry Beaumont and his men came galloping into view. When they reached the cottage Henry ordered the soldiers to begin a search of the immediate area and they set off at once. Trouville and his escort went with them. Ralph remained on his feet when the constable nudged his horse across.
‘What are you doing here, my lord?’ he demanded.
‘Hunting for the truth,’ said Ralph.
‘You should be back at the shire hall.’
‘We could not proceed without the services of our scribe and someone foolishly locked him up in a dungeon.’
‘Take care you do not end up in the same place!’
‘That would be to add suicide to folly,’ warned Ralph. ‘I am a royal commissioner. Lay hands on me and the King himself will ride to Warwick to talk with you on the subject. Do you want that to happen?’