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‘No, Amalric.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I say so.’

The dark menace in his eyes made the boy’s anger dissolve at once.

Amalric was suddenly afraid and confused. Edric the Cripple had always encouraged him to resent and to subvert. Now he was insisting on Amalric’s good behaviour and backing up that insistence with a naked threat. The boy was unsettled.

Edric chuckled and punched him playfully on the arm.

‘Let us stay friends, Amalric.’

‘Yes. We will.’

‘Forget your sister,’ advised the other. ‘Her ambition is clear. Tell me this. What would you most like to do?’

‘Win a second race against Hyperion.’

‘Are you sure that Cempan will beat him?’

‘Certain!’

‘Then you will have your wish.’

‘How can that be?’ asked Amalric. ‘Milo Crispin will take him from us so that Cempan runs for him. I will not be allowed to ride in that race at all.’

‘Then we must arrange another one.’

‘Another?’

‘Two horses. Head to head. Cempan against Hyperion.’

‘But that is impossible!’

‘Is it?’

Edric grinned and the truth slowly dawned on the boy. The two of them were soon shaking with a silent laughter that bonded them together.

Robert d’Oilly was in a bad temper and even the presence of his wife did not calm him down this time. Edith and Golde were in the hall at the castle, making a provisional seating plan for the banquet, when the sheriff stormed in through the door. His steward and two of his soldiers were close behind him and their grim expressions showed that they had already felt the lash of their master’s tongue.

Edith’s greeting died on her lips as she saw his face.

‘What ails you, my lord?’ she asked.

‘Everything!’

‘Has something happened?’

‘It never stops happening, Edith!’ he complained. ‘There are times when the office of sheriff is too great a burden for any one man. I am the agent of the Crown in Oxfordshire. I collect taxes. I administer justice. I raise and lead any militia that is needed. In short, I receive the King’s writ in this county and execute his instructions.’

‘And you do so with great efficiency,’ agreed Edith.

‘When I am not troubled by other matters.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This week has been a nightmare for me, Edith,’ he said in exasperation. ‘Gamberell’s man is murdered. The wrong suspect is arrested and tried. When we search afresh for the killer, the trail has gone cold. A black stallion is stolen and we find no trace of that either. Wymarc’s sister commits suicide. I have another crisis on my hands. What else will descend out of the skies to plague me?’

Edith traded a worried glance with Golde before speaking.

‘This may not be the ideal moment to mention the banquet,’ she said sweetly, ‘but it may provide the rest that you so surely deserve.’

‘It only increases my problems.’

‘How so, my lord?’ asked Golde.

‘We will take care of all the arrangements,’ added Edith.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but you cannot take care of the murder, the theft of Gamberell’s horse and this turmoil in Wymarc’s family. How can I enjoy a banquet when all this is hanging over me? What opinion will the Bishop of Coutances form of me if he sees me so fretful and oppressed?’

‘The bishop knows your qualities well enough.’

‘I need to impress him, Edith.’

‘You will, my lord. No question of that.’

‘The banquet will be sumptuous,’ promised Golde. ‘Your wife will see to that. It will be fit for the King himself.’

‘But what about Oxford itself?’ he growled, beyond all reassurance.

‘When the bishop rides in with his entourage, he will expect a town that is firmly under control. Instead of that, he will find himself in a madhouse that is buzzing with tales of murder, theft and suicide. I wanted everything in its place when he arrived here. That is why I brought the trial of the prisoner forward. I wanted to clear some of the stink out of the way so that it would not offend the bishop’s nostrils.

But now,’ he said, ‘he will hardly be able to breathe for the stench.’

Edith let her husband rant on for a few more minutes before signalling discreetly to Golde. The.two women slipped out of the hall. When they closed the door behind them, they could still hear the sheriff in full flow.

‘Take no notice of that,’ said Edith smoothly. ‘Robert sometimes has to let his feelings show through. He is a most able sheriff and keeps a firm grip on the shire.’

‘I have seen that for myself, my lady.’

‘Oxford is fortunate to have such a man.’

‘And he is fortunate to have such a wife,’ said Golde with admiration.

‘I do not know how you preserved your calm in there. If Ralph rounded on me like that, I could never be as poised and supportive as you were.’

‘How would you respond, Golde?’

‘I’m not sure. I’d be tempted to box his ears, I expect.’

Edith laughed. ‘That might be the best remedy of all.’

They moved out of earshot of the continued protests.

‘I did feel a twinge of guilt, though,’ said Golde.

‘Guilt?’

‘Your husband is overburdened. We are part of his load.’

‘Nonsense!’

‘The strain would be eased if we were not here.’

‘The opposite is true,’ said Edith with a smile. ‘You have helped to ease the strain on us. It has been a joy to have such interesting guests at the castle. You have reminded us how to relax and enjoy good company again. There has been a separate blessing for me. The preparations for the banquet have been half the trouble with you beside me.’

‘I have been glad to help.’

‘Then no more of this foolish talk about being a burden.’

Golde nodded and was about to go off for a walk in the bailey in search of fresh air. Listening to the sheriff’s moans had left her jangled. Then she remembered something.

‘My lady?’

‘Yes?’

‘Is it true what they say? About this poor girl?’

‘Helene?’

‘Yes. Was she with child?’

Edith sighed. ‘I believe so!’

‘Then the situation is more terrible than I imagined.’

‘It does not bear thinking about.’

‘What on earth could drive someone to that pitch of desperation?’

Edith shook her head. ‘You knew the girl, I believe. Was there anything in her character which could have given the slightest hint of this?’

‘Nothing,’ said the other. ‘Nothing whatsoever. Helene was a charming creature. She sang both in the choir and during any banquets we held here. I spoke with her often and found her honest, respectful and conscientious. She was the last person in the world I would have expected to take her own life.’

‘The decision was forced upon her, my lady.’

‘So it appears.’

‘Someone’s attentions may have been forced upon her as well,’ said Golde. ‘Most people will rush to condemn the girl but there is another culprit.’

‘The father.’

‘Yes, my lady. Who is he?’

Bertrand Gamberell took his horse at a brisk trot through the crowd in the High Street, buffeting anyone who got in his way and treating anyone who dared to complain to a burst of vituperation. The six knights who trailed behind him in single file were equally inconsiderate. A long, hard, fruitless day in the saddle had deprived them all of even the most basic courtesies. Several bruised shoulders and outraged faces were left behind them. They did not care.

When he led his men through the castle gates, Gamberell was in determined mood. Dismounting in the bailey, he marched towards the keep and was gratified to see that Robert d’Oilly was in residence.

The sheriff was standing with Gervase Bret on the flight of stone steps that were set in the mound. The fact that they were engaged in private conversation did not hold back the impetuous Gamberell. He barged straight in.