Martin tried to haul himself into a sitting position, failed, and collapsed back down on to the bed. He still ached all over and felt as though he were strapped to a board, but he’d made it slightly further up than he had last time. It was, of course, nice to have a bit of a rest for a change – not to mention the heavenly experience of having Joanna wipe his brow with a cool cloth – but he was starting to chafe at the inaction. She’d told them all about yesterday’s hunt and dinner, and it sounded like he’d missed out on some good sport – apart from the accident to Sir Gilbert, of course, although thank the Lord he was fine now – and rumour had it there was going to be tilting or sparring practice today.
He hadn’t seen the hanging, either, though he was less sorry about that. Edwin was sitting describing it to him, but between his obvious reluctance to go into detail while Joanna was in the room, and the sick look on his face, Martin couldn’t make out much of what had gone on anyway, except that it had clearly been very unpleasant.
Edwin tailed off and they all looked at each other in silence for a few moments.
Martin had another go at sitting up. This time he was more successful, and with a bit of grunting and shuffling he was able to support himself against the wall and look at the room the right way up for the first time. Sir Geoffrey’s chamber was furnished very sparsely – other than the bed and the two stools on which the others were sitting, there was a single wooden kist, and a cross-shaped pole, currently empty of its hauberk and helm. The knight wasn’t one for decoration or material possessions, but even so, it wasn’t much to show for a lifetime. Martin wondered, not for the first time, whether he’d end up like this, and whether Sir Geoffrey’s own house in his manor of Rochford, which he visited for a few weeks once a year, was more lavishly furnished.
He looked from Joanna to Edwin. ‘So, what other news?’
Edwin shrugged. ‘We buried Hamo this morning, after we got back from … well, you know. And I still don’t know who killed him.’ He looked downcast, and Martin wished he could help a bit more. But Edwin needed cleverness, not brute force, and anyway he wasn’t much good for brute force at the moment either. He sighed.
Joanna spoke in a brighter tone. ‘Don’t worry, Edwin. I’m sure something will come to you.’
Edwin gestured helplessly. ‘To be honest, I’m not even sure why anyone would want to kill him. I mean, I know he was nasty – ’ He stopped and seemed to be thinking of something. ‘What I mean is … I know not everyone liked him and he didn’t get on with everybody, but why would anyone want to kill him?’
Martin had been turning something over in his mind, slowly. ‘Maybe they didn’t.’ The others were looking at him. He shifted slightly and winced. ‘You said it was poison, didn’t you? Well, that could’ve got into the food by accident, surely?’
Edwin was shaking his head. ‘No. No, I don’t think so. Why was he the only one who ate it? If it had got in the food by accident, surely plenty of other people would have suffered as well. And Richard Cook was certain that he ate the same as everyone else. No, it must have been done on purpose.’
‘All right, so it might have been done on purpose. But by whom? Poison – that must be a woman, surely? No man would use something like that.’
Edwin made a noncommittal gesture. ‘Maybe. William Steward was certainly more upset by the thought of being considered a poisoner than a murderer. But on the other hand, you could be a man who wasn’t very good at fighting, or a man who wanted to keep it secret. After all, if you murdered someone by stabbing them or bashing them on the head, there’s more chance of being found out.’
Joanna had been silent during the exchange, but now she spoke, leaning forward in excitement. ‘You could both be right.’
Martin was confused. ‘What?’
Joanna could barely remain seated. She looked so pretty when she was animated. ‘About what you were saying before. Edwin could be right, and the food was poisoned on purpose. Otherwise, as he says, more people would have eaten it. But what if the poison wasn’t meant for Hamo at all? What if it was someone else who was meant to die?’
Martin still didn’t understand. ‘But how could that happen? Why would you put poison in Hamo’s food if you wanted to kill someone else?’
Joanna looked slightly less happy. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t worked that part out yet. But it could have happened, couldn’t it, Edwin?’
Martin looked round and realised that Edwin was staring at the floor. Or not so much at the floor as through it, the stare of a man who was searching for something in his mind. At last he looked up.
‘My father – may the Lord have mercy on him – always said that in order to find something out, you should look not just at what happened, but at why. So, let’s put to one side for a moment how it all happened, and think about why. Why would anyone want to kill Hamo? They wouldn’t. Or, at least, we don’t think so. So, why would anyone want to kill anyone?’
This was going a bit too fast for Martin. What did people kill for? ‘War?’ he hazarded. ‘Money? Land?’
Joanna joined in. ‘Hate?’ She paused. ‘No, wait – power.’
Edwin snapped his fingers. ‘Yes. If you have power, you can get all the other things. So, who has power?’
They all looked at each other. The thought was almost too monstrous to say out loud. Martin stumbled over it. ‘The earl?’ He was whispering. He cleared his throat. ‘Someone wants to kill the earl?’
He thought he’d got it, but Edwin didn’t look convinced. ‘Hmm … maybe. But I need to think some more.’ He got up. ‘Anyway, I think I’m supposed to go back to the great chamber. The nobles all went for a ride after the hang– after this morning. But they’ll be back soon, and I’m still supposed to be serving them while you’re not there.’ He smiled briefly. ‘That’s another reason for me to wish you a speedy recovery.’
Joanna also stood. ‘I’ll have to go too … my lady will want me when she returns.’ As she turned, one of her hands came out towards him, but Martin didn’t dare reach out and touch it. Instead he watched as Edwin held the door for her and she went out. Edwin followed her and closed the door behind him, leaving Martin to wait for the morning to pass as he stared at the wall.
Edwin stood in the great chamber, waiting for the nobles to return. Joanna and the two other ladies’ companions were in the room, sitting where the sun streamed in through one of the windows. Two of the windows in here had glass in, and it made the light break up into little jagged pieces on the floor. The dust rising from the rushes sparkled in the rays, and the occasional flea leapt ecstatically into the sunshine. Edwin wondered what time it was – about the middle of the morning, probably; it would be more or less time for dinner once the nobles returned. Thank the Lord he didn’t have to wait at the table – he could simply melt into obscurity in the lower hall for a while, and nobody would expect him to have manners, or serve them anything.
The ladies were sewing and chatting, the bowl of dried fruit – which Edwin couldn’t help noticing had less in it than it had the day before – to one side of them. He was the only other person in the room, and he studied them as they worked. Mistress Joanna, of course, he was getting to know better every day. Matilda, the girl who was companion to the Lady Ela, was tall and willowy, with brown eyes and a languid movement. Her elegant long fingers were stitching gracefully. Rosamund, Lady Maud’s companion, was shorter, paler and more vivacious, stabbing her needle energetically into some kind of brightly coloured embroidery. They were all completely different from … well, probably best not to think of her while she was so far away, but her blue eyes came to mind, and her smile. Not to mention her courage, determination and bravery in the face of danger and overwhelming terror. It was hard to imagine any of the ladies before him coping with life in a besieged city, while caring for several children.
The door opened and the Ladies Maud and Ela entered. Immediately Edwin felt much less relaxed, even though they weren’t looking at him. Their companions fussed around them, settling them in chairs, fetching cushions and so on. They had hardly settled before the rest of the noble party came in, and the room was full of hustle. Edwin busied himself pouring goblets of wine at the side table, and passing them to the squires to hand over, so he wouldn’t need to risk going too near any of the lords and ladies. As he filled the final one and turned to pass it over, he looked down and saw that little Peter was before him. He looked pale and his hands shook as he took the cup – fortunately Edwin hadn’t filled it too full or it might have spilled everywhere. Well, thought Edwin, as he watched the boy walk with painstaking care over to Sir Roger, someone who’s even more scared than me. He felt quite protective as he saw the boy hand over the goblet – Sir Roger smiled and murmured thanks to him, which was more than the other nobles had done – and scuttle back to the wall. He took up position very close to Edwin, their sleeves brushing. Edwin tried to send out supportive thoughts without actually moving, in case anyone should notice him.
There was a slightly sombre mood in the room, as well there might be after the events of the early morning. The ladies hadn’t seen the hanging, obviously, but the men had, and it seemed even their hour’s ride afterwards hadn’t shaken the shadow of the gibbet from them. Edwin remembered how sick Thomas had looked, and glanced round to see how he was now. Odd, he wasn’t there, even though the earl himself was in the room, with Adam hovering behind him. The two smaller boys were playing quietly in the corner – there would certainly have been more fuss and noise if Thomas had been there as well.
As if reading his thoughts, the Lady Ela cast her eyes round the chamber. ‘Brother? Where is Thomas?’
The earl looked round, as if noticing for the first time that the boy wasn’t there. He glanced at Adam, who shrugged apologetically. The earl pursed his mouth. ‘Actually, I haven’t seen him since we were at the executions.’
Lady Ela squawked. ‘My precious boy! Lost in the forest!’ She half-rose from her seat.
Her husband made a dismissive gesture. ‘My dear, I’m sure he’s just about some boyish prank. Try not to worry so.’
The earl looked more serious. ‘This isn’t the first time he’s shirked his duties. William, you and I need to have a talk about that boy.’
William Fitzwilliam looked pained. He flicked an imaginary crumb off the front of his scarlet tunic and stroked his beard. ‘Yes. It’s time he – ’
‘William! How can you say such a thing!’ Edwin thought the Lady Ela was addressing her husband, but in fact she had rounded on the earl with a tone that would have seen any normal person flogged. Edwin winced, and felt little Peter move even closer to him. ‘He’s too young to be keeping up with the men and all these great lumps of lads you have here. He’s run off to rest, poor thing. You have to …’
The earl’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the stalk of his goblet. He put it down with precise care before turning to his sister to reply. Edwin felt Peter’s arm against his own, and he remembered the time he’d had to search for him throughout the castle grounds. There were many, many places in which a small boy could conceal himself, and if you included the estate, the village and the woods as well, Thomas could be very difficult to find.
The earl was saying something along the same lines, his voice controlled. He finished by telling his sister that the boy would no doubt come back when he was hungry, at which point he could expect to be chastised. The Lady Ela was becoming more indignant and Edwin worried that the scene in front of them was about to turn violent. He tried to remain calm. Peter had certainly never had the chance to turn up again when he was hungry – nobody would have thought to feed him, not before Sir Roger took him on, anyway.
Sir Roger and Sir Gilbert, away to Edwin’s left, were looking at each other, trying to find a way to stop the conversation in its tracks. Sir Gilbert, exhibiting real courage, dared to interrupt his future brother and sister with soothing words.
‘Come now, this may not be all it seems. The lad probably wandered away from the rest of us while we were out riding, following a deer or something, and he’ll find his way back as soon as he realises he’s late.’
The earl and the Lady Ela both paused in their argument and sat back. The Lady Isabelle threw herself into the conversation in support of her betrothed, remarking that she’d be very surprised if Thomas wasn’t there at dinner.
‘And speaking of which …’ Sir Roger had seen the man enter the chamber behind the earl, and he attracted his lord’s attention. The earl turned and nodded to the servant to speak.
The man cleared his throat and announced that dinner was served. There was a flurry of skirts and fuss as everyone got up and went out; Edwin followed them through to the passageway, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could go through to the top end of the hall. As they all paused and started to rearrange themselves in order of precedence he went out the door and into the ward towards the hall’s lower door, entering to look for a seat. He was very glad to be down at one of the lower tables in the hall, away from the nobles. Of course, everyone else down there was already seated, waiting for those who would sit at the high table, so it was a bit crowded. Edwin squeezed himself on to a bench where there was a spare trencher. He looked towards the door to the servery, remembering that he’d seen Hamo standing there on the night he died. He recalled that Hamo had seemed rooted to the spot, looking at him as though he had seen something which shocked him. Now why had he done that? As he had done many times in the past days, Edwin turned over and over in his mind the reasons anyone could have wanted to murder Hamo. But he was less and less convinced – it now seemed to him that Hamo hadn’t been the target, for it just didn’t make sense. Nevertheless he was dead, and even if he had been killed by accident, he deserved justice. Edwin wasn’t going to let anyone get away with this just because the victim wasn’t important enough. He was still haunted by thoughts of …
The noble party finally entered and Edwin stood, along with everyone else in the hall, as they seated themselves at the high table. His eyes were immediately drawn not to the earl and his family, but to the line of squires behind them. Thomas was not there.