Blood Runs Thicker Sarah Hawkswood (great novels .TXT) 📖

‘When I said it was just afore I meant not a long time, my lord, but the horse was not there when I entered the hall, or indeed I would have seen it and raised the alarm.’

‘There was time for a woman so heavily with child she could not work in the field to see the horse, tie it, get to the field, and then the rest of the Lench folk to return. I do not call that short. Shall we try again? What were you doing in the village when the lord Osbern went up the hill?’

‘I …’ Fulk’s denial crumbled. ‘I went to the hall, to see how my lady did. Kenelm said as how there had been loud words and the lord Osbern was in a foul temper, not that such a thing was rare. He was not a gentle man.’ Fulk sighed. ‘He would raise his hand to her, for little reason or none. I feared one day he would leave her as dead as his first wife.’

‘But she died in an accident.’ Catchpoll spoke up.

‘Aye, so it was said.’

‘But you knew different, did you?’ The serjeant pressed.

‘Not knew, but … the lady Judith, I remember she rode so well. The lord Osbern brought her home across his horse, before him, her body I mean, and he wept, but … I always asked myself how he came to find her as they did not ride out together and it was not that her horse returned as his did, riderless. He asked Mother Winflaed to try and save her, but a broken neck is beyond any healer, as we all told her. There was nothing she could do.’

‘So you thought he might harm his lady, to her death?’ Bradecote took over once more.

‘I did, my lord.’

‘And so you have spent time alone with her as often as you could when the lord Osbern was upon his daily ride up the hill. That seems devotion of a very high degree.’

‘I …’

‘You see that it might look as though you were not simply finding out that she had not been hurt. It occurred to me, and I am not a suspicious man, am I, Serjeant Catchpoll?’

‘Many a time I have thought you was not nearly suspicious enough, my lord, not nearly enough.’

‘So you see, steward, I do not think it unreasonable to ask – were you betraying him, with her?’

‘No. No, my lord, I was not.’ Fulk looked affronted, and blustered, which might have accounted for his reddened face.

‘A comely woman, a woman needing the protection of a good, strong man, and you a good, strong man? It looks almost certain. In fact, I wonder that it did not occur to the lord Osbern. Did it? Is that the suspicion that made him angry that morning, and did you simply take a horse from the stable, ride up the hill and end the threat to her, and to you?’ Bradecote posed the questions very calmly.

‘No, my lord. I swear oath I did not kill the lord Osbern. I never left the hall.’

‘Just stood there looking at ’er, were you, seeing she could move her arms and legs?’ Catchpoll joined in, sounding equally doubting. ‘That would not take long.’

‘We talked.’ Fulk looked somewhere between sulky and guilty.

‘’Bout what? You’ll never tell me she was asking how many sheaves had been cut that morning.’

‘No. Other things.’

‘But not killing her husband.’

‘No, not that.’ Fulk looked beseechingly at Bradecote. ‘Whatever you thinks, my lord, I never killed the lord Osbern.’

‘And where were you after you came and told us that the lordling Hamo had gone off hawking?’ Bradecote did not want the man to regain any sense of balance.

‘This morning? I was here putting the pebbles in the bag.’

‘What?’ Catchpoll stared at him, but Bradecote did not look confused in the least.

‘So you were accounting all the sheaves that had been brought in.’

‘Aye, my lord. It is a good sign, though of course you can have a poor yield from plenty of stalks. It gives an idea of what we would expect to thresh.’

‘My steward does it thus, but it does not take him so long, I think. And it is not so far to where Mother Winflaed was found dead.’

This time Fulk went pale and his response was stammered. He crossed himself.

‘No, no … m-m-my lord, I would not, could not do such a thing. Why would I?’

‘Because I think she was of my mind, and thought you and the lady were lovers, and if you thought that either she would tell the lord Baldwin or let it slip even by accident, your life and the lady’s would not be worth one of those pebbles you count.’

‘I had no idea of that, and secrets were safe with her, always. That is the healer’s way, bit like the priest. No, my lord, I did not kill Mother Winflaed, and would take up my hatchet to him that did. Seek her killer elsewhere.’

Undersheriff looked at serjeant, who shrugged. What had begun as lies, easy to see, had become as good truth, and if he was lying now, it was an amazingly swiftly learnt ability.

‘Very well, but I suggest you be very careful in when you see the lady and what you say before the lord Baldwin. Until the killer is caught I am minded, for all your swearing, that you had good reason to see both dead.’

With which Bradecote gave a jerk of his head and led his men out into the open air.

‘Did he do it, Catchpoll?’

‘Wish I knew, my lord. It fits together like a nut in its shell, but yet I do not feel he took a knife to either.’

‘Nor me. Oh well, let us speak with our battered man, not that it will aid us. There is something, somewhere, that will make all plain, but either we have not found it or we have missed it, and I hate both options.’

Chapter Twelve

The man Edgar was sat up, his legs still