‘It occupies me as well,’ said Huna happily.
‘You?’
‘May I have permission to bid farewell to Boio?’
A storm was brewing and an already overcast sky began to darken.
When Thorkell and his men reached the abbey it took them a moment to pick Henry Beaumont out in the gathering gloom. The newcomers were not given a cordial welcome.
‘Whatever are you doing here?’ demanded Henry.
‘I came to see that Boio’s best interests are served.’
‘That can only be at the end of a rope.’
‘But he is no murderer,’ explained Thorkell. ‘Gervase Bret called at my house with valuable new evidence in Boio’s defence, garnered from one of your own foresters.’
‘I have heard it,’ said Henry peevishly.
‘Then why do you still stand vigil here, my lord?’
‘Because your blacksmith still has much to answer for.’
‘Such as?’
‘Wait until his trial.’
‘That may be a very long wait if he stays here for the full term of sanctuary,’ said Thorkell. ‘Are you prepared to stand out here in all weathers for the whole duration?’
‘We will drag him out of there soon.’
‘That is why I came, my lord. To safeguard his life.’
‘You are not wanted here.’
‘But I needed to speak with you on a related matter.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Martin Reynard.’
‘The poor man lies dead and buried,’ said Henry sadly.
‘I am not surprised that you speak so kindly of him, my lord,’
said Thorkell with a knowing glint. ‘Though he was dismissed in apparent disgrace from your household, he never really left it, did he? I have reliable information to the effect that he paid regular visits to your castle while he was supposed to be working for me.’
‘Whoever told you that is lying!’ howled Henry.
‘I had it indirectly from your own wife, the lady Adela. You will surely not tell me that you are married to a liar.’
Henry bit his lip and turned away. Thorkell continued to bait him and his victim could do nothing but wince and bluster. A shout brought an end to their exchange. Both men looked towards the soldier who had called them but the man was already waving them back.
‘I was deceived, my lord!’ he shouted. ‘A false alarm!’
Henry looked past him and saw what he meant. Two figures had emerged from a side door to the abbey and were being gathered up by the darkness as they walked away. Henry was just in time to recognise the dwarf, leading his bear by a chain along the street. The sound of the bolts being drawn distracted him and he turned to see the abbey gate swinging open. Hoping to be offered an abject apology by the bishop and to have the fugitive delivered up to him, he was disappointed to see a shabby old man coming out of the building. The gate was shut behind the departing visitor and the bolts were put in place. Neither Henry nor Thorkell took any notice of the old man and they were unaware that he lurked nearby to watch them with curiosity.
Henry turned back without relish to face Thorkell’s questions again. Throbbing with indignation, the thegn would not let him off the hook.
‘Why did you do it, my lord?’ he asked. ‘It was not the action of a decent man. I know that you are not capable of graciousness but I thought you reasonably just until now. I took Martin Reynard into my service in good faith as my reeve. Why did you set him to spy on me?’ He jabbed a finger. ‘What did you get him to steal?’
Henry Beaumont was soon wallowing in embarrassment. He shifted uneasily in his saddle as the full extent of his reckoning was ruthlessly exposed by Thorkell.
Rain was beginning to spit as Ralph Delchard and his men rode towards Brinklow Castle. They did not have to make the full journey. Having established his credentials with the Count of Meulan, the eager Trouville wanted to get back to the abbey so that he did not miss out on any of the action.
Ralph saw the commissioner and his escort being conjured out of the darkness ahead of him. His own escort, swelled by the additional men whom Henry had sent, outnumbered the approaching riders. Ralph called a halt and they fanned out in a line.
Trouville was twenty yards away before he recognised them.
‘Well met, my lord!’ he called, raising a hand.
‘We heard that you visited Brinklow Castle.’
‘Only to pay my respects to the lord Henry’s brother. If I am to be Sheriff of Northamptonshire one day — as I have cause to expect — I want to be on friendly terms with everyone of importance in the neighbouring counties.’ He gave a complacent grin. ‘The Count of Meulan has just returned from Derbyshire. He and I got on well. We turned out to have much in common.’
‘Why?’ said Ralph. ‘Does he murder helpless victims as well?’
Trouville scowled. ‘Your jest is in very bad taste.’
‘So were your lies to me at Grimketel’s house.’
‘What lies?’
‘Boio did not kill that man.’
‘He did. The signs were obvious.’
‘Too obvious,’ said Ralph coldly. ‘Explain this, my lord. How did Boio manage to commit murder, evade a large posse and travel several miles to Coventry in order to be at the abbey before vespers? A bird would have had difficulty flying there in so short a space of time. Boio could not have killed Grimketel. Even the lord Henry accepts that.’
‘Then someone else did the deed,’ agreed Trouville, ignoring the implication in Ralph’s black stare. ‘We must go back to the house tomorrow to look for clues and organise a more careful search.’
Ralph looked at him with utter disgust and Trouville wilted.
‘The trail ends here, my lord.’
‘No!’ protested the other.
‘The lord Henry has sent me to arrest you in his name.’
‘You have no proof.’
‘We will get it from your men,’ said Ralph. ‘They will know if Grimketel was alive when you went to his house because his door would have been barred and you would have needed him to open it.’ He looked around Trouville’s escort. ‘I am sure you have sworn them to secrecy,’ he said, ‘but they may change their minds when they have to choose between telling the truth and submitting to the lord Henry’s torture. He is not a man who appreciates being deceived.’ He saw unease spreading across the men’s faces and signalled to his own escort. ‘Seize their weapons!’
Trouville’s men were quickly surrounded and disarmed but their lord did not wait to endure the same fate. Pulling savagely on the reins to turn his horse, he kicked it into a gallop and went off across the field. Ralph was after him at once before he disappeared completely into the darkness. Rain now began to fall in earnest, lashing their faces as they hurtled through open country. Trouville was a good horseman but his mount was no match for Ralph’s destrier, which slowly gained on him.
Ralph had no fear. He was younger, stronger and more skilled in the arts of combat than the other. He was also impelled by a deep rage that a fellow commissioner would stoop to murder.
Realising that he could not outrun his pursuer, the fugitive decided to fight instead and suddenly reined in his horse. Before he could draw his sword from its sheath, he was knocked bodily from the saddle as Ralph drew level and flung himself into the air. They landed with a thud on the ground. Trouville was winded but he still had the strength to punch and grapple. The two of them rolled over and over on grass that was quickly becoming sodden. With a massive effort, Trouville managed to throw Ralph off and got to his feet to run. Ralph caught him up immediately and they wrestled more violently than ever. With a deft move, Ralph used his adversary’s own weight against him and flung him to the ground again.