‘What Adam told me was, the note warned him to escape but when he saw the clerk, he was overcome with hatred. This clerk threatened the man he adored. In a sudden frenzy he decided to kill Roger, giving his friend John time to escape. He was offering himself up as a sacrifice to protect his … well, his lover.’
Baldwin shook his head. ‘The damned fool! He’ll be in a cell for years to come.’
Warin stared up at a wandering man-at-arms on the wall who was glancing down at them with interest. The whole castle was by now aware that the man who had lived among them was in fact the heir of the manor and this castle. More than one man-at-arms had blenched at the news, remembering some slight given in the confident knowledge that they were safe. The man on the walls was in no danger, though. He’d made no insulting comments that Warin could remember. And he would have remembered, had the fellow done so.
He said, ‘In truth, Adam seems a good enough priest to me. I’ve heard nothing against him, apart from this foolishness with John from Temple. That being so, I was wondering whether there might be some means of protecting him from the full force of ecclesiastical law.’
‘How could we do that?’
‘We could persuade Roger that it was a genuine mistake.’ Warin grinned. ‘We could say that the attack was caused by a sudden brain fever, and that after a chance to cool off, Adam is better.’
‘You would be well served to think of a better excuse, and a less lame story that would be acceptable to Roger,’ Baldwin said unenthusiastically.
‘I am sure we can think one up,’ Warin said.
‘Why would you do this for him?’
Warin smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dusky light. ‘Sir Baldwin, this manor is my inheritance. Adam is younger than me; he’ll likely outlive me. All the time I own this manor, I shall have a reliable spy. What would such a spy be worth, would you say, when the country is disturbed? The same holds true for John. Both can keep me informed of malcontents before trouble has time to brew.’
‘It may not be disturbed for long.’
‘Aye, and the pigs in the sty may sprout wings!’ Warin declared dryly. ‘Mortimer has flown. There are men who would support him against the King’s friends. Wouldn’t you?’
‘Why do you ask me to help you?’ Baldwin asked, ignoring such a dangerous question.
‘An ally would be useful, especially if I have to try to persuade the Coroner’s clerk to withhold his charges.’
‘And why should you expect me to help you?’
‘You are keen to resolve the murders here, aren’t you? Well, if you will help me, I can throw a sacrifice to you. I have heard that Gervase may have been out of the castle on the night that Athelina died. He was out last night when Serlo died, too.’
‘So you are convinced he is guilty?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Who else? The man has fled. That at least is how the Coroner thinks — and apparently Nicholas too.’ Warin chuckled, and then he grew serious. ‘Gervase is disloyal. I detest men whom I cannot trust, and I do not trust him. From what I have seen and heard, he is a man whose brain is led solely by his tarse.’
At last, Baldwin thought, I am getting to the meat of this matter. He feigned disinterest. ‘That scarcely sounds like justification for my aiding you to persuade Roger to forget Adam’s attack on him.’
‘You would help me do that? In that case, you shall have the facts: Athelina’s boys were not Gervase’s, but she was his lover after she became a widow. Adam’s maid? The child is Gervase’s. No matter where you look about the place, you see his colouring, his eyes, his mouth on the local children. He’s taken advantage of his position too freely.’
‘You said you could not trust him because of his disloyalty?’
Warin bared his teeth. ‘Nicholas, the castellan here, had a row with his wife earlier. Their words were overheard. She was put in pup by Gervase. Nicholas is barren.’
Baldwin scoffed. ‘He told me himself that he was Richer’s father.’
‘So he is, but then, some years after Richer’s birth, he was very ill with a fever. You know the one: swollen cods, the lot.’
‘Christ Jesus, the mumps?’
‘Yes. And since then he’s fathered no children. That’s one element of the proof. The other is, think how Gervase behaved when Lady Anne entered a room. His eyes never left her — more truly, they never left her belly. And she detests him now, from all I’ve seen. Perhaps because his seed has risked her marriage and life.’
‘You say that this means Gervase is the murderer?’ Baldwin said. ‘But that supposes he killed his lover, Athelina, and her boys. Are you sure neither was his?’
Warin smiled at him easily. ‘Quite sure, but I don’t accuse Gervase of these murders, Sir Baldwin! I accuse Nicholas.’
That, Baldwin felt, was the grossest irony. To have to watch your woman bloom and blossom into motherhood, and know that the child was not your own. Nicholas must surely be within his rights if he wished to kill the steward for this cruel treachery.
He remained in the bailey contemplating all he had learned for some while after Warin left him. The man on the wall found him of little interest now his master was gone, and returned to staring idly over the land about the castle.
Clouds raced by, although there appeared little wind in the bailey itself. Baldwin stared up at them, catching glimpses of stars every now and again, and wondering what to make of all the hints he had heard.
‘You all right, Baldwin?’
‘Simon! I thought you were asleep. There seemed little point in waking you.’
The Bailiff sniffed. ‘So you could speak to Warin alone, you mean?’
‘You saw us?’ Baldwin grinned.
‘I woke when he came back just now. So what’s it all about? Why did he want to talk to you?’
Baldwin sighed and gazed up at the stars. ‘I don’t know whether to believe him or not. He’s thrown us a dainty tidbit: Nicholas. Gervase is a womaniser and untrustworthy, as we know, but Warin alleges …’ Baldwin hesitated. He disliked slandering a woman, but if she had taken part in an adulterous liaison, she had only herself to blame. ‘He said Lady Anne bears not Nicholas’s son, but Gervase’s.’
Simon stared. ‘Well, swyve me with a blunt bargepole! Are you sure? I mean, do you believe him?’
‘He may be right. He’s an astute fellow.’
Simon considered. ‘It’s not unknown, is it? I can think of a few widows who’ve gone for their steward as soon as the old man pops his clogs.’
‘No, it is not unknown,’ Baldwin said. ‘But usually the woman has the decency to wait until her husband has died.’
‘Is it so rare?’
The soft voice sounded almost sad, and as Simon turned to greet Lady Anne, any embarrassment he might feel at being discovered discussing her adultery was wiped away by his fascination with her.
Although Simon preferred his wife, Meg, to any woman he had ever met — and if were to state his preferences, he would choose a blue-eyed blonde like her — this Anne, with her blue-black hair, oval face and slanting green eyes, was a sorely beautiful temptress.
Drifting nearer on feet which were still light, for all that her belly was enormous and her back bent to balance her, she said quietly, ‘Yes, I heard you both.’
‘Did Squire Warin send you to me?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Yes. He said you’d want to speak to me, and I agreed. If not, he said he’d tell Nicholas to command me to come here.’
‘Better now than at the inquest,’ Baldwin said harshly.
‘If I tell you all I can, would you swear to save me such a public humiliation?’ she asked shyly.
‘My lady, I would save you any embarrassment I can,’ Baldwin said, but his tone was brittle, and he continued, ‘but I cannot do so if there is any risk to an innocent, no matter how lowly. If by withholding anything tomorrow, I put the wrong man’s neck in the noose, I shall speak.’
She paled as he spoke, and her hand went to her breast, then down to her belly. ‘I suppose that is reasonable. But there is nothing I know which could put a man’s life at risk. I can’t believe that.’