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“That is how it may have seemed at the time.”

“What do you mean, my lord?”

“Only this,” said Nigel quietly. “To watch a loved one die is always painful. It plays cruelly on the emotions. Things get distorted. Sunnifa was grief-stricken when she lost her husband. She is still in mourn-ing. That clouds her judgement badly.”

“What of Brunn the Priest? Is his judgement clouded?”

“He is an honest man who has served his flock to the best of his abilities for many years. But time and the northern climate have taken their toll, as you have seen. Brunn wanders. His mind is no longer reliable.”

“Inga did not wander. Her mind was crystal clear.”

“But she takes her lead from Sunnifa and the priest.”

“We are going around in circles,” said Ralph with impatience. “Instead of trying to discredit those who oppose you here, my lord, simply tell us how Thorbrand’s property came into your possession.”

“With pleasure. It was by deed of gift.”

“Gift?”

“Thorbrand had cause to be deeply grateful to me.”

“Why was that, my lord?” asked Gervase.

“Because I protected him and his family.” He gave a tolerant smile.

“You are no soldier, Master Bret, and you have no notion of the problems that beset us here. We are in constant danger of attack from the Scots. It is vital to have a strong bulwark against them. That is why the King granted such huge amounts of land in the north of the county to his two most trusted friends.”

“It is true,” confirmed Ralph. “The King’s own half-brother, Robert, Count of Mortain, holds vast estates along with Alan the Red, of Brittany.

Between them, they form a solid band across the north of the county.”

“My land lies directly south of them,” said Nigel. “If they are a first line of defence, I am a palisade behind them. Thorbrand understood this only too well because his land was twice overrun before I drove out the raiders. They had cunningly penetrated the gaps. Thorbrand came to see that a second continuous line of defence was needed, and that could only be formed if he willed his land to me and enabled my holdings to be linked together in a wide strip.”

Gervase was doubtful. “He willed the land to you?”

“On his deathbed.”

“Brunn heard no mention of this.”

“Other witnesses sat in that room with him. They will support me to the letter.”

“Is there no written proof of this?”

“Unhappily, no,” said Nigel. “Thorbrand renounced his will in his last hours on earth and bequeathed most of his property to me. His family were not left unprovided for but their inheritance was somewhat reduced.”

“It was cut to shreds, my lord.”

“Of necessity.”

“He consigned his own wife and daughter to a life of comparative poverty? That verges on the incredible.”

“Not if you had undergone the rigours that he did,” said the other earnestly. “Thorbrand suffered badly at the hands of raiding parties because he had no means of defending himself. That is why he turned to me. And why he put the safety of his wife and daughter before anything else. He went to his grave knowing that they would be well protected even if their means were more modest.”

“And are they well protected, my lord?”

“Yes!” he said proudly. “They are shielded by the arm of Nigel Arbarbonel.”

“They pay a high price for that honour,” observed Gervase as he glanced at the document before him. “Since the land came into your possession, the rent from it has risen appreciably.”

“There has been a slight increase, I fear.”

“Thorbrand was a less demanding landlord.”

“He did not have to maintain any defences.”

“The rent has more than doubled since he died.”

“Is that relevant?” asked Nigel pleasantly. “You are here to determine who owns that land and not how much rent it yields. That amount is already on record and your predecessors raised no objection to it. Why should you?”

Gervase traded a glance with Ralph. It took no more than a split second but a signal had passed between them.

Nigel Arbarbonel was enjoying himself. Polite, plausible and supremely confident of his position, he answered every question with an obliging readiness. His word would always outweigh that of his detractors. The first commissioners were a more powerful and formidable team, yet he had survived their examination without any discomfort. He decided that their successors would be even less trouble-some. His policy of willing cooperation would confound them.

Gervase Bret forced him to revise that opinion.

“That is all,” he said dismissively. “I have no more questions.” He turned to Ralph. “My lord?”

“I have nothing more to add,” said Ralph.

Nigel smiled hopefully. “You have finished with me?”

“For the moment,” said Gervase.

“And it is all settled?”

“Far from it, my lord.”

“But you have heard my evidence.”

“Indeed we have and it has been most interesting. But it does not resolve the matter. On the contrary, it directs our enquiries to a wider field than we foresaw.”

“I want this whole business settled here and now.”

“There is too much evidence still to collect.”

“From whom?”

“You will find that out when we next send for you.”

“It is a long ride to York from my castle.”

“Then stay in the city until we need you,” suggested Ralph with a grin. “We are as anxious as you to reach a verdict in this dispute but we cannot do so until we have considered every possible aspect.”

Indignation stirred. “Do you doubt my word?”

“Not in the least. What you have told us may well turn out to be the truth. We would just like to make sure that it is the whole truth.”

“One last thing, my lord,” said Gervase casually.

“Yes?”

“Thorbrand, I believe, lived in the wapentake of Bulmer.”

“That is so. Close to Dalby.”

“How long would it take to get there from York?”

“Four or five hours at most on a fast horse.”

“The town reeve’s man rode hard, we are told.”

“To Dalby?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Gervase. “To summon Thorbrand’s widow to make her claim before our predecessors. The messenger did not arrive in time. He left here on the appointed day, he claims, yet the summons did not reach Dalby until over forty-eight hours later. Does that not strike you as odd?”

Nigel shrugged. “Perhaps he went astray.”

“He insists that he did not.”

“Then I am as baffled as you by this mystery.”

“Only one solution offers itself, my lord.”

“And what is that?”

“The man who took the summons from York was not the same person who arrived in Dalby over two days later. The reeve’s messenger handed over the duty to somebody else.”

“Why on earth should he do that?”

“To ensure that vital evidence never reached York.”

“That same evidence has reached it now,” said Nigel as he rose to his feet. “Was it really so vital? Do the ramblings of a widow and an old priest really have any credence? You say that Inga presented the case against me but did she provide any documents to back it up? Unlike you, the first commissioners were not inclined to suffer fools gladly.

They would have exposed this vital evidence as the tissue of lies that it was.”

Nigel Arbarbonel turned away and headed for the door. Feeling that he had put the commissioners firmly in their place, he could not resist a parting shot.

“Have you really come all this way to discuss the riding habits of the reeve’s man?” he said, swinging around. “There may yet be another explanation of why it took him so long to deliver his summons to Dalby. Perhaps he lost his way or fell among thieves. Perhaps he was chased off course by wild bears.” He grinned amiably. “Or perhaps his horse simply cast a shoe.”

“Hogni the Blacksmith would have replaced it for him,” said Gervase.