The Coiner's Quarrel Page 6

‘Sendi has a spy in Barcwit’s mint, and Barcwit is thought to have one in Sendi’s. They are business rivals, so such a situation is quite normal. I have agents myself, in all sorts of odd places.’

  Geoffrey pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Alwold’s murder must be connected to these allegations. He was Barcwit’s steward, and so could probably say with certainty who invested with his master, and who did not. Maude, Tasso and Rodbert may also be in danger …’

  ‘Alwold was killed to avenge Fardin,’ interrupted Henry dismissively. ‘I have kept these Saxons in close proximity to each other for too long, and they have reached the point where violence is an attractive way to ease tensions.’

  ‘Why have you waited so long to hear their case?’

  Henry sighed. ‘I have already answered that: because I wanted to speak to you first.’

  Geoffrey only just managed to prevent himself from saying he did not believe him. Sendi had brought to light a serious charge of treason, involving men who were close to the King and a possible plot to damage the financial roots of the country. Geoffrey could not imagine why it would be deferred to await the arrival of a poor knight who served another prince.

  Henry poured a cup of wine, which he pushed into Geoffrey’s hands. ‘Drink this. You are as white as a corpse. I know you are fond of Joan, but I did not expect you to swoon over the matter.’

  ‘I will not swoon,’ said Geoffrey, although he was awash with the sense that the situation was not real. He was aware of small things – cinder burns in the rugs, his goblet was dirty, bird droppings on the window shutters. He sipped the wine. It was strong and burned his mouth, and he wondered what sort of brews Henry enjoyed when he was on his own. He set it down, unwilling to drink more.

  ‘Not to your liking?’

  ‘A little sour,’ replied Geoffrey carefully, not wanting to tell the King that he would not foist that particular brew on his enemies.

  Henry smelled it carefully. ‘I wonder if it has been poisoned. It would not be the first time, and my tasters have become lax recently. I shall see what happens to you before I try any. Have some more.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Geoffrey firmly. He gazed at Sendi’s document again. ‘I could leave Westminster tonight, and go to warn her – take her away with me.’

  ‘You could,’ agreed Henry. ‘And I shall not stop you, if you think that is the best thing to do. But what would happen then? Tancred does not want you, and Joan would not like the Holy Land anyway. You could go to Normandy, where the Duke would accept you into his service, but you cannot stay there, either.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it is the home of Robert de Bellême, the man you recently helped oust from England. He has long arms and many kin, so you will never be safe in Normandy, and neither will Joan.’

  Geoffrey knew he was right. ‘You have something else in mind?’

  ‘I cannot allow traitors to go unpunished – imagine the message that would send to anyone thinking of organizing a revolt! Bellême would be back in days, and I do not have funds to fight another war yet. If there is a rebellion in the making, I must quash it decisively and without hesitation.’

  ‘But you have already waited a week,’ Geoffrey pointed out.

  Henry smiled. ‘I am not a vicious ruler, who reacts to the smallest threat. But, at the same time, I must be perceived as strong, or my enemies will move in for the kill. I do not want Joan to hang, but nor can I condone treachery. However, I thought we might reach an arrangement.’

  Geoffrey stared at him. ‘You are giving me a chance to save Joan and Olivier?’

  ‘And the other people on this list.’ Henry sighed and for a fleeting moment, seemed genuinely distressed by the notion of a few dozen minor nobles joining in a plot to overthrow him. His expression was haggard. ‘Fools or traitors?’

  ‘I am sorry?’

  ‘I need to know whether the “investors” on Sendi’s list are real traitors, or simply fools seduced by the prospect of quick profits. Giffard will “investigate”, but his remit will be to arrest everyone for a trial that will be swift and one-sided. He believes it is better to squash a spider before it bites, rather than throw it out of the window. But spiders kill flies, and I dislike flies more than spiders.’

  Geoffrey was nonplussed by the monarch’s contorted zoological analogy. He cleared his throat. ‘When you say flies, you mean …?’

  ‘I mean men who buzz around me and profess false loyalty,’ explained Henry, with a touch of impatience. ‘So, here is what we must do. I will hear Sendi’s case tomorrow morning, and you will be there – although I doubt you will learn more than you know already. Then I will dismiss them, pending further enquiries, and you will travel to Bristol to look into the matter on my behalf.’

  Geoffrey had suspected as much. He recalled how Giffard had forced information about the moneyers at him, on the grounds that it might later prove useful. Now he understood why: Giffard knew exactly what Henry intended, and had been trying to help him prepare.

  ‘And if I learn that there is a conspiracy and Joan is involved, then what?’ he asked carefully.

  ‘Then you must persuade her to recant and throw herself on my mercy,’ replied Henry. ‘I am prepared to be lenient to one traitor, so I will seem magnanimous. I will also let her keep Goodrich.’

  ‘What about the others? Will my investigation result in a round of executions?’

  ‘Yes, if you find they are guilty.’

  ‘I am not an inquisitor,’ said Geoffrey distastefully. ‘I do not want this sort of responsibility.’

  ‘Then your sister will hang, because Giffard’s investigation will be short, swift and irreversible. He will not become bogged down with details – he thinks I should crush this nasty little vipers’ nest once and for all. But I do not want a mass killing of suspects, because I would rather know the truth.’

  ‘I do not think I can do it,’ said Geoffrey unhappily.

  Henry ignored him. ‘I want honest answers and I trust you to get them. You will ride to Bristol as soon as the moneyers have put their case, and you will assess whether these investors are traitors or fools. After a few days, Giffard will join you. He will listen to the evidence you have procured before passing judgement – and the folk on that list had better hope you have deemed them innocent, or that will be that. Or would you prefer to ride to Goodrich and spirit Joan away?’

  There was no choice. Bellême would find out if Geoffrey tried to take Joan to any Norman domains overseas, and would exact revenge for the loss of his English estates. Joan would never be safe, and Geoffrey would be unable to protect her for ever. He nodded reluctant agreement.

  Henry immediately became businesslike. ‘Good. Then we are finished here. You may go.’

  Geoffrey hesitated as he reached for the latch. ‘Thank you. For giving me the chance to help Joan.’

  ‘You are welcome,’ said Henry. His face wore its expressionless mask again. ‘But I was not speaking in jest about your accusations earlier: I will hang you if you ever insult me again.’

  Geoffrey was sure he would.

  Geoffrey was restless and unsettled after his audience with the King. He did not know what to think about the fact that Joan was on Sendi’s list, but there was an appalling plausibility about the whole situation that made him suspect the accusation was true. Joan had a rigid sense of right and wrong, and was not afraid to act on her principles. And there was no denying that Goodrich’s fortunes had improved at a time when most other manors were in decline. He was lost in thought when he walked through the hall. Absently, he indicated Durand was to accompany him, noting at the same time that he was talking to the long-nosed Bloet. The squire abandoned his new friend reluctantly.

  ‘Actually,’ he whispered, ‘I am busy at the moment. Are you sure you need me?’

  At first, Geoffrey thought he had misheard. No servant should tell his master such a thing. ‘Busy?’

  Durand had been with Geoffrey long enough to know the limits of
the knight’s patience. He saw he was close to crossing them, and hastened to explain. ‘The man I have befriended is Simon Bloet. He is here because he is accused of investing money with Barcwit, who is rumoured to be a traitor.’

  Geoffrey knew this perfectly well. ‘What does that have to do with you being busy?’

  Durand looked hurt. ‘I have been encouraging him to gossip, to tell me more about this dispute between Barcwit and Sendi.’

  Since Geoffrey had only just emerged from his discussion with Henry, Durand could not possibly know what the knight had been ordered to do, so had no reason to pump courtiers for information – unless he had learnt of the King’s plans in advance. Geoffrey stared at him and wondered whether he had. It would not be the first time the squire had been one step ahead of his master.

  Durand hurried on with his explanation. ‘Sendi accused you of killing Fardin, and you had an altercation with Rodbert and Tasso that left them rolling in dirt. If you insist on making enemies in a place like this, then it is wise to find out as much about them as possible.’

  Geoffrey saw he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. ‘True. But do not overlook the fact that Bloet accused me of killing Alwold. Therefore, he may be considered my enemy, too.’

  ‘Everyone here should be considered your enemy,’ counselled Durand wisely. ‘But my point remains: I have learnt interesting facts about Barcwit and Sendi – and about Bloet, too, for that matter – and I am in the process of gathering more.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as that Sendi appears to be a lout overly ready with his fists, but he actually has a clever mind. Such as that even mentioning Barcwit’s name strikes fear into the hearts of Bristol’s inhabitants. Such as that Bloet is ambitious and will do anything to prove his innocence of Sendi’s charges. Such as that Alwold lost a lot of silver, which he was guarding for Barcwit, and that Rodbert and Maude hated him for it.’

  ‘So, Rodbert or Maude might have killed Alwold,’ mused Geoffrey. ‘And because Fardin was already murdered, they knew it would look as though Sendi had dispatched Alwold in revenge.’

  ‘Precisely,’ said Durand, his eyes glittering. ‘So, you see, I have been working on your behalf. I may not be handy with a sword, like Helbye and Ulfrith, but I am better than them in other ways.’

  Geoffrey was about to tell him to see what else he could learn before it became common knowledge that he was investigating and people started to clam up or lie, when someone shoved him so hard he staggered. His dagger was drawn before he had even turned to face his assailant. It was Rodbert, with Tasso behind him and Maude to one side. Durand shrieked in alarm and shot behind a pillar, where he listened to, but took no part in, the discussion that followed.

  ‘I would put that away if I were you,’ advised Rodbert, nodding at Geoffrey’s knife. ‘The King does not like exposed weapons in his palaces, and I am unarmed.’

  ‘We have not forgotten you,’ said Tasso icily. He gestured to his cloak, stained with muck from the yard. ‘No one pushes me in the mud.’

  ‘Enough,’ said Maude, moving between Geoffrey and her companions. She smiled, and he was instantly on his guard: she wanted something. ‘Did you tell Henry what Alwold said? That he claimed to have left my husband’s silver with a man called Piers? I did not tell Henry the complete truth, as I suspect you noticed. I only told him Piers had a message for Barcwit about the stolen ingots.’

  ‘Alwold was raving,’ said Tasso, before Geoffrey could reply. ‘He lost a consignment of silver to robbers just outside Bristol. It was on his conscience as he died, but that is all. There is no Piers. The “confession” was only the fevered imaginings of a dying man.’

  Geoffrey recalled Alwold asking Maude to tell Barcwit he was sorry, and supposed it could have been a crisis of conscience that had led the man to talk about the matter with his last breath. However, Barcwit could not have been too furious with his steward, because he had promptly entrusted him with the care of his wife – the silver had been stolen three weeks before, on the Feast of St Michael and All Angels – but Alwold had been guarding Maude until a few moments before his death.

  Maude turned her arresting eyes on Geoffrey. ‘When Alwold first started to mutter, I hoped he was going to tell me that his claims about the robbery were untrue – that he had actually put the silver somewhere safe. But it was just wishful thinking.’

  ‘More is the pity,’ said Rodbert, glancing around to make sure he was not overheard. ‘However, the King is greedy and, if Alwold had confessed to stealing the ingots and hiding them, we would not want him to know. We would never see the merest glimmer of it if he got there first.’

  Maude shot him a withering look for such blunt speaking, although Geoffrey thought he was right. If Alwold had secreted a valuable cargo with a friend or a relative, and the King found it first, then its original owners would never see it again.

  ‘Rodbert speaks the truth,’ said Tasso to Maude, indignant on the deputy’s behalf.

  ‘Perhaps so, but this is not the place to do it,’ snapped Maude. ‘Nor is it the place to exchange dangerous confidences with a man who is invited to intimate discussions in the King’s bedchamber.’

  ‘Geoffrey will not repeat this discussion,’ said Tasso, fingering his sword meaningfully. ‘Besides, who will believe the word of one man against three? And do not say folk will accept his story because he is Norman and you are Saxons. I am Norman, and people know I am honourable.’

  ‘Not here they don’t,’ said Maude irritably. ‘You are just another petitioner, and a lesser man because you are in the pay of a Saxon – regardless of the fact that Barcwit is one of the most upright and decent men in the country.’

  ‘I was under the impression that people are afraid of him,’ said Geoffrey, sensing a contradiction between her claim and what Giffard and Durand had told him.

  ‘They are,’ said Maude. ‘Barcwit hates liars, thieves and dishonesty. But upright men have no cause to fear him. To them, he is just and good.’

  ‘But most people are not good,’ elaborated Rodbert. ‘So, they see the darker side of his character. He is like God – gentle with those who deserve it, but wrathful to those who do not.’

  ‘So, what did you tell Henry about Alwold’s confession, Sir Geoffrey?’ asked Maude wheedlingly. ‘It would be helpful to know.’

  Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. ‘Why should I co-operate with you, when your friends have done nothing but insult and threaten me since we met?’

  Maude glared at Rodbert until he spoke. ‘We hate this place, and we do not know why Henry has kept us waiting so long. We are bored and uneasy, but we should not have quarrelled with you. We apologize.’ He stared at the floor and did not sound at all sincere.

  ‘No,’ said Tasso firmly, when Maude’s gaze shifted to him. ‘I will not say I am sorry when I am not. I may not have liberated Jerusalem, but I played my part in God’s holy war at Constantinople. Barcwit ordered my return after that, but I would have been a Jerosolimitanus had I remained.’

  ‘Tasso is a proud warrior,’ said Maude briskly, to shut him up. ‘And indispensable to Barcwit. But Rodbert has explained why he argued with you – it is because we are all feeling the strain of the vile accusations laid at our door. Now, since we are friends, you can tell me what you told the King.’

  Geoffrey regarded her thoughtfully, and it occurred to him that any investigation of Barcwit and his alleged crimes would not be easy when the man had surrounded himself with people like Maude, Tasso and Rodbert. He began to wish he had not agreed to do Henry’s bidding. Joan was not some simpering damsel, but a formidable woman with a sharp mind, who could look after herself.

  ‘I told Henry nothing,’ he said eventually. ‘I did not understand what Alwold was talking about, and the King wanted to discuss other matters anyway. You told him all I heard Alwold say, and I could have added nothing more even if he had asked me – which he did not.’

  He did not mention the last part of Alwold’s message, about the Ki
ng, Bloet and William de Warel knowing some secret shared by a priest of St John’s. It all sounded very sinister, and he did not want to become embroiled in the matter without knowing more about it first. He determined to keep the information to himself until he knew whom he could trust.

  Maude stared at him, gazing into his face as if she imagined she might be able to read the truth there. Geoffrey was struck again by how attractive she was, with her amber eyes and the intriguing strand of auburn hair that escaped the confines of her veil. He did not blame Bishop Maurice for attempting to inveigle an assignation with her.

  ‘Very well,’ she said eventually. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Are you really afraid Henry might send agents to locate Piers, and retrieve this stolen silver before you?’ he asked.

  ‘There is no Piers in Bristol,’ said Rodbert. He sounded angry about it. ‘At least, no Piers of substance. Doubtless there is some river rat of that name, but Alwold is unlikely to have left a hoard of silver in the hands of a pauper who would be tempted to steal it. Tasso was right: Alwold was raving in his delirium.’

  ‘Thank you for being honest,’ said Maude, touching Geoffrey’s hand. She smiled, the expression simultaneously mocking and sensual, and was about to add something else when Rodbert saw the exchange and pulled her away. Tasso merely touched his sword as he passed, an unmistakable threat.

  When they had gone, Durand emerged from behind his pillar and heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I thought they were going to fight us,’ he said unsteadily. ‘And both men give the impression they know how to handle weapons, especially the deputy, Rodbert. The henchman, Tasso, is merely a braggart.’

  ‘No,’ argued Geoffrey, who had seen the way Tasso moved in his armour. He was comfortable in it. ‘Tasso will be the more able fighter. He has—’

  ‘I have decided not to quiz Bloet after all,’ interrupted Durand, never interested in military matters. ‘I do not want a knife slipped between my ribs by that trio, merely because they think my death may annoy you. I—’

  ‘You went to see the King,’ said an accusing voice. ‘If you told him about our little misunderstanding down by the river, I will dash your brains out with a stone.’