The Tolls of Death: (Knights Templar 17) (39 page)

Somehow Aumery was sure that it was this tall, intimidating man asking questions that so upset Mother. He was nasty; he was scaring Mummy, just like Daddy used to scare Aumery. Remembering that, Aumery felt a little quiver in his tummy. It wasn’t nice to remember that. Daddy had told him never to mention it again. He said not while he lived. But Daddy didn’t live. Rebellious and half-fearful, Aumery steeled himself, and then he glanced at his father’s corpse before muttering his daddy’s words like a spell.

Sir Jules saw the movement as Adam’s head snapped around. ‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. He’s confused. What can you expect when the boy’s treated in this way while his brother and father lie dead before him?’ Adam said scathingly.

‘What did he say? Boy, what was that?’

Aumery swallowed, but the eyes of the Coroner were strangely intense and he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

‘It was the castellan. The castellan. Because Father said, “If he learned that another man knew his wife, he’d kill the man”,’ Aumery said defiantly.

Muriel sobbed into her hands now. Sir Jules looked to her, and waited, and after a little while she looked up at him brokenly. ‘It’s true: Athelina saw them, Lady Anne and Gervase, in the meadow while the castellan was away. My husband believed Nicholas would kill anyone who spoke of it.’

‘Christ Jesus!’ Sir Jules breathed.

Alexander gingerly touched his throat. ‘You could’ve killed me,’ he croaked sulkily.

‘And you could have caused the death of your master’s son,’ Iwan said easily. ‘Better bruises than a hempen rope. It gives terrible skin-burn.’

‘I had nothing to do with your brother’s death,’ Richer said wearily. ‘I was suffering from a migraine when I left here. Yes, I realised that he had said something about my family, but he didn’t actually say he had killed them. He was taunting me.’

‘So you saw little need for revenge,’ Iwan nodded.

‘That’s right.’

Iwan allowed his gaze to drift over the men who still stood about them. No weapons were visible, but the old smith wasn’t sure that they wouldn’t reappear as soon as his back was turned. ‘I was there at the harvest the year Richer’s family died,’ he told them all. ‘The older folks like me were making sure none of the children grew so drunk they’d hurt themselves. I was up there, and I saw Serlo coming to join the rest of us. It was him gave the alarm, told us all there was a fire. When he shouted, I looked back, and there were the flames. God’s holy pain, I could see them. Terrible, red flames through the trees, some appearing above the trees. I saw them, and that means Serlo could have been there; he could have fired the place.’

‘You knew that and didn’t say anything?’ Richer demanded harshly.

‘Easy, boy!’ Iwan said sharply. ‘I saw Serlo had appeared late, I saw him call the alarm and I saw flames. I didn’t see him with a burning brand in his hand, nor did I see him throw a torch through your window. Maybe he simply saw the flames and ran to fetch us to help quench them.’

‘Serlo was no murderer,’ Alexander said, sniffing, his head hanging.

‘So apologise to this lad, for suggesting
he
was,’ Iwan said curtly.

‘I don’t know he didn’t.’

‘You don’t know he
did
!’ Iwan stated.

Alexander averted his head like a man who had been slapped. For a while he could say nothing. Then he gave a short nod of acquiescence.

‘That’s good,’ Iwan said. ‘Sue? Bring ale to celebrate this peace! The castle will pay, I reckon.’

Warin saw the shrewd old eye fixing upon him and gave a grunt partly of approval, partly of admiration. ‘I think my father would be happy indeed to pay.’

‘Thank you, master. I’m sure he will,’ Iwan said as he held up his large pot for Sue to refill.

‘So who else could it have been?’ Alexander demanded quietly as men laughed off their tension and washed away their anger in good ale.

Iwan glanced at him over the rim of his cup. ‘I was at home all the night, and saw no one. But I heard one horse passing late last evening.’

Warin flushed. ‘That was me. I had gone to Temple to speak with the priest.’

‘Now why would that be, master?’ Iwan asked softly.

‘I don’t have to answer your questions, old man.’

‘No. But I just saved your lives and probably the manor from ruin.’

Warin chuckled dryly. ‘Father John at Temple owes his position to my father. My father suggested that I should speak with him. That is all.’

‘All? Perhaps,’ Iwan nodded. ‘What did you speak with him about?’

‘Many things. Mostly about the vill and the people here.’ Warin met his gaze steadily. He was not going to discuss his private conversations, not even with a reliable man such as Iwan appeared to be. ‘What else? Was any other man abroad last night?’

‘No one I saw,’ Iwan said.

‘There was one.’ Sue was passing them, refilling their cups from a large jug, and overheard their talking. ‘A man rode past here a little before dark. It was long before Serlo left here, though.’

‘It may have been the murderer, if he was prepared to sit and wait for a while,’ Warin guessed. He glanced at Richer. ‘Did you see anyone leave the castle?’

‘Only you. And later I too thought that I heard a horse,’ Richer said. ‘But I didn’t look to see whose it was.’

‘It
was
you killed my brother,’ Alexander spat suddenly. ‘You may have convinced these others you’re innocent, but I know the truth!’

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Richer said wearily. ‘Of course I didn’t. Why would I?’

‘Maybe you thought he’d killed your woman?’ Alexander curled his lip.

Warin shook his head. ‘I think you need to consider another man, Alexander. My fellow is innocent. I’d stake my arms on it.’

‘Then who …’ Alexander felt his breath stick in his throat as a fresh thought came to him. If Serlo had upset Nicholas because of some harm or insult, real or imagined, it was possible that Nicholas could have killed Serlo, or ordered another man to do so. If Richer was innocent, that didn’t say the master was too.

‘The murderer of Athelina must have known her and her sons well,’ Susan remarked.

‘Why?’ Warin asked.

‘Someone got in there and killed the boys first. Otherwise, one boy or both would have gone in, seen their mother hanging, and raised the alarm. If he killed the boys first, he could take them together, knock them on the head, and no noise. When she arrived, they were hidden.’

‘Perhaps. So what?’ Richer said.

‘They knew him. Why else would they let him inside without fear?’

Alexander slowly lifted his head until his eyes were on Susan, and then he felt the slow thrill of understanding as she spoke.

‘It can only have been someone they knew really well. Their mother’s lover, perhaps. Especially if he was also an important official – someone from the castle.’

Alexander released his breath with the relief of finding the explanation: yes, one man could have killed Serlo to punish him for the death of his son, Danny. The same man could have killed Athelina to stop her demanding money. And Alexander knew who had the greatest reputation for womanising, who was the only man who could have wanted Athelina dead as well as Serlo: Gervase, the man who was seen making love with Lady Anne.

Sir Jules marched from the church with a feeling of failure. He had his duty, and he intended to perform it. Here in this vill was a murderer – a mass murderer, no less – and he would have the man arrested and amerced as soon as he could. Yes, he knew his duty, but he wasn’t sure how he might execute it.

Christ Jesus, but there were a lot of men at the castle! He stopped as the thought came back to him. It was like a small tide washing over him, submerging his best intentions in a miasma of
fear. To go against a man who had so many men-at-arms to defend him was madness itself!

‘Sir Jules, are you truly thinking of going up there and accusing Nicholas to his face?’

‘Hmm? Well yes, I suppose so, Roger.’

The clerk squinted at the sun, which was swiftly sinking towards the far hills. ‘Then may I take my leave of you here? I shall return to the church and demand sanctuary from the priest. Or perhaps I should walk to Temple. That might be safer. There is safety in distance, I believe.’

‘What? You must come with me to record my conversation.’

‘You think so? I don’t. No, I think I should avoid contact with you while you are set on the course of self-destruction,’ Roger said with equanimity.

Sir Jules’s jaw dropped. ‘You are my clerk,’ he managed after some moments.

‘That’s no reason for you to expect me to commit suicide with you! Dear God in Heaven! If you go there, and you are right and this man
did
commit these murders, he will kill you himself in his own defence, so that his accuser is no more. If he were innocent, I would expect him to whip your head off in a trice for being so gullible as to believe him guilty! Or to demand that any one of the six or seven squires he has in the castle do so for him. Many of them would be loyal enough for that little task, I should think. They all seem to respect and like him.’

‘He has been accused. I am the Coroner, and I must—’

‘The accuser was a
child
, Coroner. A small one, at that. You don’t have to follow up the uncorroborated word of a minor.’

‘He spoke with great conviction. I have a son, I know how they behave. That child made a convincing witness.’

‘Perhaps so, but that won’t keep your head on your shoulders, will it?’

‘It would be the right thing to do.’

‘So would many duties that are routinely left undone,’ the clerk commented imperturbably. ‘That doesn’t change the fact that you’d be running the risk of death if you were to go ahead.’

‘What would you have me do? Forget the allegation? Leave here and declare I could find no guilty party? Or would you prefer me to find another suitable culprit and take money from Nicholas in order to guarantee his continued freedom and supposed innocence?’ Sir Jules demanded witheringly.

‘Good God, Sir Knight, when did you stop thinking? You have a good intelligence, I am sure. Use it! Return to your original intention. Now you have a suspect, make use of your powers as a Coroner. Hold your inquests and demand answers from all whom you make attend. That way we may yet win through to an answer.’

‘And if we don’t?’

‘If we don’t, we fine the whole vill and go on to find our next body.
That
is our duty,’ Roger said tersely.

Nicholas and Gervase, unaware of the ropes that were gradually being woven about their individual throats, were sitting together. They had completed their work when Anne walked into the room, and at once both men shot to their feet.

His wife smiled at Nick and he felt the warm flood of adoration flow through his heart once again. A look from her could make him so happy. He truly felt blessed with good fortune to have married her.

His sole regret was that he would not be here to look after her for very much longer. The pains in his fingers and hips were growing more serious with every passing year, and his back could be agony on occasion, as were the wounds which he had won in a lifetime’s service to his master. There was always the knowledge that he had outlived most of his friends and even some of their sons. He was old; he knew that.

Whereas she was a fragrant, lovely young woman, succulent as a ripening grape. Just to see her was to love her anew.

She walked in like a youthful princess, taking her seat at the bench nearest the hearth, holding out her hands to the flames. For the last few days she’d said that her hands and feet were feeling a little cold, and that her feet were swelling. It had worried him enough to speak to the vill’s midwife, but she reckoned that Anne was fine. She had even said that Anne appeared to be a little further on than she’d have expected, and suggested that the conception had taken place earlier than Nicholas and she had said, but he had to laugh at that.

Earlier? How could that be, since the child was the celebration of his return. After the last wars, Nicholas had remained with Sir Henry in his host rather longer than he’d expected, and when he returned, Anne had demonstrated how greatly she had missed him. She took not a moment’s delay in pulling him up to their chamber.

And it was a miracle that this time his seed had fulfilled its destiny. They had tried to produce a child so often over the last six years that he had all but given up hope, but now, God be praised, his wife was proof that patience would be rewarded. Soon she would give him the son he so greatly desired.

He rose from the table and went to pour himself a little wine. Richer was still special to him, the bastard born of the luscious woman he had desired in his youth, but that was different from the feelings he had for Anne. She had sought him out and adored him as much as he did her.

Raising his mazer, he turned to toast her, and it was then that he caught sight of the steward’s face.

Gervase was staring at Anne with an expression of longing so plain, he reminded Nicholas of a hunting dog he had once known, penned near a bitch on heat. The sudden memory of that scene was so comical, he chuckled to himself.