'Look what you've done to my lordship,’ Norbert accused as he dragged the recumbent form of the House Bonneville from under the table.
'Look what we've done?’ Wat hissed to Hermitage, 'he was drunk before we got here.’
With Poitron's help the noble was returned to his throne but his consciousness stayed beneath the furniture.
'What's this about Le Pedvin?’ Poitron demanded, seriousness dripping from his demeanour.
'Just as I say,’ Wat replied firmly, 'we were sent here by Le Pedvin.’
Poitron just glared and narrowed his eyes to convey deep suspicion.
'Your master seemed to know all about it,’ said Wat, 'until he dropped off.’ Wat nodded towards the table and raised his eyebrows. ‘Expecting us, he was.’
Hermitage offered a slight nod to Poitron. He was content with the statement that they had been sent here by Le Pedvin; after all, it was true. He suspected that if any more detailed questions were asked he would not be able to maintain the pretence.
'To do what exactly?’ Poitron asked. He asked as if he knew exactly why they'd been sent and was testing them to see if they came up with the right answer.
'Like we said, to look into murders,’ said Wat.
Hermitage was glad Wat had said it.
'Is this true?’ Poitron turned his question directly to Hermitage.
'That's what he said,’ Hermitage confirmed that Wat had said it.
'You said they were over Bayeux way?’ Poitron questioned.
This alarmed and surprised Hermitage. It was clear the Norman had been listening to their tale, even though he appeared not to be. He had lost track of all the lies they’d told since arriving and was now positive one of them was going to rear up and bite their heads off.
'Murders all over the place,’ Wat tutted as if the house had been left untidy, 'and you know what Le Pedvin’s like,’ he tried a touch of camaraderie.
Poitron shrugged it off. 'He sent two Saxons to investigate murders in Bayeux? Hardly likely I'd have thought.’
'Where else? Get to the coast and get on a boat, you end up here.’
'Not without a lot of trouble you don't.’ Poitron was persistent,
'Of course we're only the ones Le Pedvin sent this way. I think he's probably got people going all over the place. But then he's not likely to share his plans with the likes of us is he?’
Hermitage liked that reasoning, it opened opportunities to say that they didn't know what Le Pedvin was up to.
Norbert was tidying up his master, trying to make him look as noble as possible, considering the man was slumped in his throne with his jerkin all askew and dribble running down his chin. The guard hoisted the noble into a more upright position, but without his wits to help, the noble lord kept heading back for the floor. Eventually Norbert leant nonchalantly against the back of the throne with one hand discretely holding the back of his lord's collar to stop him slipping. Norbert clearly couldn't do nonchalant and so it looked more like the man was trying to strangle his master from behind.
Poitron’s glare was trying to pierce monk and weaver to their hearts, where he would find the truth. He was clearly unimpressed and still didn't believe them, which gave Hermitage concern that the man might just do something horrible and tell Lord Bonneville when he woke up.
'You have just had three bizarre murders,’ Wat went on, 'how many before them?’
'None at all,’ Poitron exclaimed, clearly offended at the suggestion that murder in Cabourg was like dancing round the maypole, regular entertainment, occasionally done by children.
'Exactly,’ Wat concluded, 'no murders at all, nice peaceful place until the invasion of England. Bit suspicious that. So someone's come here doing murders, someone from outside.’ Wat moved slightly closer to Poitron as if sharing a great confidence, ‘which explains why Le Pedvin would send outsiders to look into it.’
Hermitage thought that was a very poor argument indeed, but appreciated this was not the time.
Wat winked at Poitron and even went so far as to tap the side of his nose, confirming that this was a great secret and was obviously true.
'I know,’ Poitron confirmed, moving firmly away from Wat, 'that's exactly what happened.’
Wat grinned, 'There you are then.’
Hermitage was not grinning, he had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going.
'With one slight amendment,’ Poitron added.
'Oh yes?’ Wat enquired.
'The murders were done by two outsiders. You two.’
'No, no,’ said Wat, explaining, in a dangerously patronising tone Hermitage thought, that Poitron had got the wrong end of the stick.
Hermitage was concerned that whatever stick Poitron had got hold of, he was about to use it on them.
'Your master was expecting us,’ Wat went on.
Hermitage was grateful to hear that his friend appeared to be taking this seriously now.
'Hmm,’ Poitron didn't seem to have an answer to this.
Wat continued, 'He knew about Le Pedvin sending someone, and even appeared to be grateful we'd arrived.’
Poitron said nothing but exchanged looks with Norbert, who had noticed his master's face turning a bit blue and had loosened his grip slightly. This only allowed Lord Bonneville to slip further down his chair and it was clear he was going to be in no fit state to resolve this dispute for some time yet.
'Perhaps we'll just lock you back in the dungeon until his lordship can let us know what to do.’ Poitron clearly liked this idea.
'Le Pedvin’s personal men, expected by Lord Bonneville?’ Wat asked. ‘You can if you like, I suppose.’
Hermitage didn’t like that offer at all, but it did seem to give Poitron some serious worry.
'You cannot put Le Pedvin's agents in a dungeon,. Wat pressed the advantage.
Hermitage thought the tactic of trying to be authoritative and commanding was worth a try; explanation was clearly getting them nowhere.
'So why didn't you say you were Le Pedvin's agents when we first met?’ Poitron demanded.
Wat was dismissive, 'We're hardly likely to divulge that sort of information to a servant are we?’ He even snorted.
'What?’ Wat demanded of Hermitage as they sat in the dusty ground outside the castle gate, almost exactly where the guards had thrown them.
'Well, really Wat,’ Hermitage complained, as he stood and dusted himself off, ‘'you could see the fellow wasn't happy. Calling him a servant in that way was bound to make him react badly.’
'He gets up my nose,’ Wat shrugged, 'not trusting us like that.’
'We were lying,’ Hermitage hissed, even though there was no one near to hear them.
'That's not the point. Most of it was true, how dare he not believe the true bits. Jumped up little toad.’
'A jumped up little toad with the keys to the dungeons and an officious guard at his disposal.’
'Well,’ Wat grumbled.
Hermitage could tell from his friend's demeanour that he accepted the handling of Poitron could have gone better. Never one to take advantage of the discomfort of another, which he had been told was another of his significant failings, Hermitage got back to the matter in hand.
'Bonneville was expecting us,’ he said with some wonder, 'what on earth does that mean?’
'Could be anything.’ Wat didn't seem too concerned about the reason for Bonneville's knowledge, 'could be he thinks we've really been sent here to solve the murders.’
'Then why didn't Le Pedvin tell us?’ Hermitage thought it bad enough that all the people doing murders lied, it was still sinful but might be expected from that sort of person. If the people who were supposed be getting you to solve the murders were lying as well, where would it all end?
'If there was nothing in it for him, the man wouldn’t tell his granny the house was on fire,’ Wat pointed out.
Hermitage paused to recollect their meeting with the frightening Norman. They hadn’t actually asked if Bonneville knew all about this, it just seemed, well, obvious that he wouldn’t.
'But he doesn't know we've been instructed to prove he's the guilty one,’ Hermitage said at the end of his contemplation.
'Well obviously,’ Wat said with some disappointment at the naivety in Hermitage's voice.
'He seems a nice sort of chap, bit drunk for first thing in the morning, but quite welcoming and all.’
'He is still a Norman noble,’ Wat pointed out.
'Ah yes,’ said Hermitage, knowing that having people executed was part of the daily routine for the Norman nobility.
Wat was looking around as if unsure which way to go.
‘What do we do now?’ Hermitage asked.
‘I think we need to sort out these murders. I’m not sure how long it will take master Poitron to realize he’s made a horrible mistake.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. He should have locked us in the dungeon like he said.’