‘And have you found any?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Bale, although his failure did not seem to have detracted from his enjoyment of the task. ‘I brought Fychan here at first light, but he said he did not know the villain, either. And I know he was telling the truth, because I said I would slit his throat if he lied.’
There were times when Geoffrey felt unequal to dealing with Bale, and that morning was one of them. ‘You should not have said that,’ he said rather feebly.
‘No,’ agreed Roger. ‘Especially as poor Fychan was a victim himself – also knocked on the head. And, worse yet, relieved of all his money. Obviously, he was not complicit in the attack.’
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Fychan was attacked?’
Roger regarded him askance. ‘Yes. I told you about it last night. Sear and Alberic found him when they were conducting their search. He had been sitting in his kitchen, counting his money, and the villains burst in, punched him senseless and stole his gold.’
‘I do not remember,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But surely this puts a different complexion on matters? If he was assaulted, too, then-’
‘It means they saw a man counting his money and decided to earn themselves a little extra,’ interrupted Roger firmly. He walked to the body and pulled away the blanket that covered it. ‘It changes nothing. Now look carefully. Do you recognize him?’
Geoffrey stared at the unfamiliar features. The body was that of a man in his forties, heavily built with an oddly scarred nose. He wore leather leggings and a mail jerkin, and the sword at his side was in excellent repair. There was no question that he was a professional soldier. But was he one who had turned outlaw, robbing with a gang of like-minded men for his own benefit? Or was he a mercenary, who had sold his services to someone who wanted dirty work done?
‘I have never seen him before,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I would have remembered the nose.’
‘So would I,’ agreed Roger. ‘Are you sure there is nothing to identify him, Bale?’
Bale nodded. ‘He did not even have any jewellery. Whoever he was, robbery did not make him wealthy. Perhaps he was not very good at it.’
‘Or he was not paid much,’ said Roger. ‘But we cannot waste more time on this business. We should round up our companions and be on our way. Who knows? Perhaps when you deliver the letters, these attacks will stop.’
Geoffrey sincerely hoped so, but he had a bad feeling their arrival in Kermerdyn would just make matters worse.
They started to walk towards the door, but it opened suddenly, and both knights’ hands dropped to the hilts of their swords, and Bale drew one of his sharp little knives. The priest who entered cried out in alarm and took several steps backwards.
‘Sorry, Father,’ called Geoffrey hastily. ‘We came to see whether we could identify this man.’
‘I see,’ said the priest, advancing cautiously. He was in his fifties with a sizeable paunch and grey hair that clung in greasy wisps around the back and sides of his head. ‘And can you? This is a peaceful village; we cannot imagine why anyone should sully it with so foul a deed.’
‘You do not know him, then?’ Geoffrey asked.
The priest came to look at the body, and an expression of compassion filled his face. ‘No, but I am sorry circumstances brought him to this. I am Ninian, vicar of this parish. Who are you?’
Roger made the introductions, and Geoffrey was not surprised when Ninian was unimpressed by the big knight’s ecclesiastical connections.
‘Fychan told me what had happened last night,’ Ninian said, speaking good Norman-French. ‘He is distraught.’
Geoffrey nodded sympathetically. ‘I imagine it is not every day that a man dies under his roof.’
‘Or that innocent travellers are attacked under it,’ added Roger.
Ninian shook his head wryly. ‘It is not that – it is that all his money was stolen. The felons invaded while he was counting it – as he likes to do each night – and did not leave him so much as a penny. He has been amassing that hoard for years, and its loss is a serious blow to him. And to my church, too.’
‘Why to your church?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Because he was going to pay for a new one,’ explained Ninian. He gestured around him. ‘As you can see, we need it desperately. This building will not survive the winter, and we shall be reduced to saying our devotions under a tree if we do not raise another soon.’
Geoffrey frowned. ‘But this church looks as though it has been in decline for years, and the stones in the graveyard have been left long enough to gather moss. If Fychan was wealthy, why has the new church not been built already?’
Ninian grimaced. ‘You touch on a sore point. Fychan says we can only have the gold when he is dead. Counting it gives him so much pleasure that he wants to keep it for as long as possible.’
‘Sensible man,’ said Roger approvingly.
Geoffrey was staring at the priest, his mind working furiously. ‘Does anyone else know he counts it so often?’
Ninian nodded. ‘Oh yes. He is the wealthiest man in the village, so we are all interested in the state of his finances. He is not generous with it, but we live in hope.’
Geoffrey was relieved. ‘The attack had nothing to do with us,’ he said to Roger. ‘If Fychan is in the habit of poring over his money each night, and the whole village knows it, then it is hardly surprising that robbers visited his tavern.’
‘No,’ countered Ninian immediately. ‘We have never had any trouble before. Prince Hywel keeps good order in these parts, fine ruler that he is. You must have attracted them.’
‘Attracted them?’ demanded Roger, although he had said as much to Geoffrey not long before. ‘Only fools attack a company with several knights.’
‘Several knights with a baggage cart,’ said Ninian. ‘Although I understand that most of it is taken up by poor Mabon. Still, outlaws will not know that. You cannot blame thieves for chancing their hand. Of course, it was rash to tackle six Norman knights, even if you were all drunk.’
‘None of us was drunk,’ declared Roger indignantly. ‘Sear, Alberic and I were enjoying a quiet game of dice, Geoffrey and Edward were asleep, and Richard had gone to stay with friends. So had Gwgan, although he is not a Norman knight.’
‘Gwgan,’ said Ninian fondly. ‘A fine man, and a wise counsellor for Prince Hywel.’
‘I thought the fighting made a lot of noise,’ said Geoffrey to Roger. ‘Yet it took an age for anyone else to come and help me.’
‘Well, perhaps our dicing was a little rowdy,’ admitted Roger. Then his face hardened and he lowered his voice. ‘Or are you saying that Sear and Alberic made a racket deliberately, so I would not hear you yelling? Or even that Richard and Gwgan were not visiting friends at all, but were directing assassins in the middle of the night?’
‘I do not know,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But Delwyn, Edward and Cornald were not carousing or visiting friends. Why did they not come?’
‘You should be glad Edward and Delwyn stayed out of the way,’ said Roger. ‘They are hopeless in a fight. Meanwhile, Cornald is a mystery to me. Perhaps he wanted to pay us back for sleeping with his wife.’
‘ I have not slept with his wife.’
‘Did either of you kill this man?’ asked Ninian, breaking into their muttered discussion. ‘Because, if so, the culprit had better kneel in front of my altar and allow me to bless him. Murder is not good for the soul. Of course, I see you are Jerosolimitani, so I imagine this death is but just one of many.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Roger, taking it as a compliment. ‘But Geoff here is responsible for this one.’
‘He was trying to kill me,’ said Geoffrey defensively. ‘And my wife was in the room.’
‘Well, God will decide who was in the right,’ said Ninian. ‘Kneel and let me do my duty.’
Geoffrey did as he was ordered, feeling he needed all the blessing he could get.
When Ninian pronounced himself satisfied, Geoffrey left the church and returned to the inn, Roger in tow, hoping Fychan was not so stricken by his loss that he would be unable to provide breakfast. The inn’s main room was cold and empty. The fire had not been lit, the place reeked of spilled ale, and there was no sign of any of their companions. Fychan was there, sitting at a table with his head in his hands, eyes red-rimmed and puffy.