‘If you wish, my lord.’
‘I have spoken with Wymarc, Milo Crispin and Bertrand Gamberell.
They gave me varying accounts of what took place at Woodstock that day. I wanted to hear your version.’
‘I doubt that I will have anything new to add.’
‘Describe the race.’
Ordgar collected his thoughts then gave his version of events. He spoke slowly, honestly and with a pervading regret. When the old man stopped, Ralph had the first question ready.
‘How did your colt win the race?’
‘Fairly, my lord.’
‘Hyperion lost his rider.’
‘Even with a man in the saddle, he would have lost.’
‘Why?’
‘Cempan is better.’
‘Better bred? Better trained? Better ridden?’
‘All three.’
‘Who deserves the credit for that?’
‘Edric the Cripple and my son,’ explained the other. ‘Edric is my steward but his knowledge of horses is second to none. He raised and trained Cempan. He also taught my son how to ride him properly.’
‘A cripple riding a horse?’
‘He was not always disabled. Edric was once a warrior, a housecarl in the service of King Edward. He lost his leg in combat. I gave him a place here.’
‘He must be grateful to you, Ordgar. Not many men would employ a crippled soldier to oversee their land.’
‘Edric has repaid me a thousandfold.’
‘How did you prepare for the race?’
‘Prepare?’
‘Cempan did not win by chance,’ decided Ralph. ‘You were up against the fastest horse in the county and Hyperion had already raced on that course three times. You were at a complete disadvantage.’
A sly grin. ‘Not quite, my lord.’
‘Let me guess. You took the colt to Woodstock beforehand. You let him get the feel of the course.’
‘We did more than that,’ admitted the other. ‘Edric and I watched an earlier race. We saw how Hyperion ran and how his rider handled him. That taught us much.’
‘Sensible preparations.’
‘My son, Amalric, then rode Cempan over the course. It has many undulations. They are deceptive and can knock a horse out of his stride. Edric showed him how to take a line that would miss the worst of the slopes and dips. They trained for hours in the twilight.’
A full smile came. ‘We borrowed money from many people, my lord.
We had to be sure to win.’
‘Your victory was obviously deserved.’
‘But not upheld.’
‘Something puzzles me,’ said Ralph. ‘Edric the Cripple had an important role in your success yet you never mentioned him during your account of the race.’
‘He was not there.’
‘Not there? After all that effort he put in, he was not there to see the results?’
‘Edric was invited to the wedding of his kinsman. He was away in Warwick for three or four days. He offered to miss the wedding in order to watch the race but I urged him to go.’
‘Would not his presence have helped your son?’
‘Yes, my lord. But there was another consideration.’
‘What was that?’
Ordgar became uneasy. ‘Edric finds it hard to accept the changes that have come about. You talked earlier of those who refused to surrender. Edric is one of them. Something of the warrior still burns inside him.’ He blurted out the truth. ‘To be candid, I was glad that he was not at the race because he might have said something out of turn.’
‘A Saxon hothead upsetting a trio of Norman lords.’
‘There are times when the loss of his leg rankles. It makes him lash out wildly and not always wisely. Besides,’ said Ordgar, ‘we won the race without him. If not the prize.’
‘Was your stake returned?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Held over until the race is run again?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then what is the situation?’
‘I do not wish to speak ill of my lord Milo,’ began the other cautiously,
‘but he has been vindictive. He is very eager to win the race against Hyperion. Because our colt is the only horse likely to do that, he wants to buy him from us.’
‘You would be mad to sell him.’
‘We may be given no choice in the matter.’
‘Milo would force you to sell?’
‘He offered to exchange our stake money for Cempan.’
Ralph was shocked. ‘I thought better of him.’
‘Needless to say, I refused such a corrupt bargain but I fear that he will come for Cempan one day.’
‘Only when the race is run again and that cannot happen until Hyperion is found. Bertrand Gamberell has shed more tears over that animal than over Walter Payne. You would think that it was Hyperion who was killed at Woodstock.’
‘His reputation was, my lord. By us.’
Ralph tried to catch him unawares with a blunt question.
‘Who murdered Walter Payne?’
‘I do not know, my lord.’
‘Would you tell me, if you did?’
Ordgar took much longer to find an answer this time.
‘Perhaps.’
Edric the Cripple was riding across the fields towards the house when he saw them depart. As their horses cantered back to Oxford, they left a cloud of dust in their wake. Edric went straight to the stables and dismounted. He found the boy lifting a saddle on to Cempan and gave a sigh of relief.
‘I thought they had come to take him away,’ he said.
‘So did I,’ confided Amalric. ‘But they only wished to talk to father.
They were complete strangers to me. I will have to ask him who they were.’
‘What mood were they in when they left?’
‘Friendly.’
‘Normans are never friendly. Unless they are trying to trick something out of you. What were they after?’
‘I do not know, Edric. Only one of them went into the house with father. When they came out together, they were smiling.’
‘Ordgar is too easily taken in.’
‘You know what he always says,’ the other reminded him as he tightened the girth. ‘Better to work with them than against them.’
‘Look where it got him with Milo Crispin!’
The chestnut colt whinnied. Cempan was keen to be ridden out.
Edric patted the animal’s neck affectionately. Amalric adjusted the stirrups. The boy seemed relaxed and happy. The steward decided to broach an important topic with him.
‘We need to talk about Bristeva,’ he began.
‘Why?’
‘I think we have both been unkind to her, Amalric’
‘What does it matter? She is only a girl.’
‘She’s your sister. You should love her.’
‘I do,’ said the other defensively. ‘But she can be very silly at times and I’ve no patience with her. Neither have you, Edric. You’re sharper with Bristeva than I am.’
‘It was wrong of me.’
‘Wrong?’
‘To speak so harshly about this choir of hers.’
‘She talks about nothing else. It vexes me.’
‘You talk about nothing but Cempan,’ the other pointed out, ‘and Bristeva must be equally vexed, but does she rail at you? Does she mock the horse the way you mock her choir?’
Amalric was surprised by the steward’s change of tone.
‘Has father been speaking to you about me?’ he guessed.
‘We exchanged words.’
‘Did he order you to keep me on the bit?’
‘No!’ said Edric hotly. ‘He would never order me to do anything. I am my own man. You should know that.’ He took a moment to calm down.
‘I offered to sound you out in order to save you from being excluded.’
‘From what?’
‘The banquet at the castle. Ordgar is afraid to take you. He fears that you will somehow prevent Bristeva from singing.’
‘I will!’
‘Why?’
‘You are the last person who should need to ask that,’ said the boy with feeling. ‘Think of the people she would be entertaining at the banquet. Robert d’Oilly. Milo Crispin. Bertrand Gamberell. And many others.’
‘Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances among them,’ said Edric.
‘Him, especially. Look who those men are. Remember what they have done to us. I’m not going to let my sister perform in that hall for their benefit. Just imagine, Edric. She will be singing to please Milo Crispin — the man who is trying to steal Cempan from us! I have to stop her.’