“So you deny the testimony of Alan Stanham and Nicholas Rye,” said the justiciar.
“I do, most emphatically, deny it.”
“My lord!” The voice came from behind Bernard, and he turned to see Alan standing in front of his bench.
“My lord, I believe that if you question the silversmith, he will uphold my testimony,” Alan said steadily.
Richard regarded his squire with compassion.
“These witnesses have certainly brought forward information that must be further investigated, Lord Hugh,” the justiciar said. “But the evidence is strongly suborned by the fact that I can see no reason for Sir Richard to desire the Earl of Lincoln to die.”
Hugh began to say, “I think we must-” when he was interrupted by a feminine voice from the benches.
“My Lord Chief Justiciar, I believe I might have something to add to this testimony.”
It was Elizabeth de Beauté.
The attention of the entire room riveted on the girl.
Richard stood motionless.
“Would you care to come forward, my lady?” the justiciar said.
Slowly Elizabeth came into Bernard’s view. She passed so close to him that he could have reached out and touched her mantle. Then she halted in the open space between the benches and the table where sat the chief justiciar and the sheriff. She kept a distance between herself and Richard.
“My lord,” she said in a low voice, “on the night that my father was killed, I went to my bedchamber immediately after Sir Richard Canville had left us. The single window in this room looks directly out on the front courtyard of the bishop’s guest house. The shutters were still open and I went to the window to close them. Before I did so, however, I looked out.”
She paused, and Bernard could feel the hardening of attention in the room.
“My lord, I saw my father meet Sir Richard in the courtyard and then the two of them walked around the side of the bishop’s house and out of my sight.”
Bernard began to breathe again.
“Why did you never mention this, my lady?” the justiciar asked sternly.
Elizabeth raised a hand to touch her wimple. “I did not think it had any bearing on my father’s murder, my lord. You must realize that this meeting occurred almost a full hour before my father’s body was found.”
Hugh said matter-of-factly, “And now you know that your father was probably killed very shortly after the time you saw him with Sir Richard.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were intensely green. She had not once looked at Richard, and she did not do so now. “Aye.”
“Did you ever mention to Sir Richard that you had witnessed this meeting?” the justiciar asked.
“I did, my lord.”
Bernard found himself physically straining forward, and forced himself to relax. Elizabeth continued, “Sir Richard told me that my father had said he was going to the Minster to pray. Of course, I thought that he had gone to the Minster in response to the false summons of Bernard Radvers.”
“You never suspected Sir Richard of complicity in this matter?”
Color flushed into Elizabeth’s face and suddenly she seemed very young. “I did not, my lord.”
The justiciar’s voice softened. “Is there any particular reason for you to have shown so much faith in Sir Richard?”
“I was going to marry him,” Elizabeth replied.
A moan came from Lady Sybil. The sheriff, who had been staring at his hands folded on top of the table, jerked his head up and looked at his son.
Richard stood like a statue.
“I thought, my lady,” Hugh said delicately, “that you were going to marry me.”
Elizabeth, still carefully refraining from looking at Richard, spoke to Hugh. “That is what my father wanted me to do, but I was going to refuse the match. I had promised to marry Richard.”
“May I ask when this attachment between you and Sir Richard developed, my lady?” Hugh asked.
His voice was quiet, almost intimate, the sort of tone he would have used in the coziness of a family solar. Elizabeth visibly relaxed in reponse and began to talk more easily.
“Richard used to come to Beauté to visit one of our knights who was a friend of his. That is how I got to know him. We were on the brink of asking my father if he would allow us to marry when he made that agreement with Lord Guy for me to marry you.”
“You must have found such news disconcerting,” Hugh said sympathetically.
“I did,” she replied. “I told my father about my love for Richard and asked if we might marry. He was very angry. He said I would marry the man he chose for me and that man was not Richard Canville, it was Hugh de Leon.”
“Did you tell this to Richard?”
“Of course. But I promised him that I would not wed you, that even if my father forced me to the altar, I would not make the vows.”
Her chin lifted as she said these words and her voice rang with pride. For a moment, she looked like a woman, not a girl.
“Did Richard believe you?”
“I thought he did. Now I am not so certain. Listening to this evidence today, I feared…” Her voice ran out.
“What do you fear, Lady Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth whispered. “I am afraid that Richard killed my father because he stood in the way of our marriage.”
Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom.
“That is not true,” Richard said, his deep voice clearly audible over the tumult.
At last Elizabeth looked at him. “I don’t think you ever loved me. All you wanted was to be the next Earl of Lincoln!”
“Elizabeth,” Richard said, his voice like a caress. “That is not so. You know that I love you.”
“I don’t think I know anything about you at all, Richard,” Elizabeth replied bitterly.
A small silence fell while the two erstwhile lovers stared at each other.
The chief justiciar spoke. “We have heard compelling evidence against you today, Sir Richard,” he said sternly. “More than I believe can be attributed to Lord Hugh’s acting against you out of malice.”
“Let us put it to the proof, then,” Richard said. Color burned high in his face, and he laughed. “Are you willing to do that, Hugh? Are you willing to face me in a trial by combat?”
Behind him, Bernard heard Cristen give a little cry and then quickly stifle it.
“It would be my pleasure,” Hugh replied.
Richard looked at the chief justiciar. “I am weary of listening to these malicious charges against me, my lord.” His voice, clear as a bell, resounded throughout the cavernous room. “I demand a Judgment of God.”
26
A Judgment of God. Trial by combat. Two men fighting each other until death proved which one heaven found guilty. This was one of the most ancient tests for justice, and its validity was recognized by both Church and State.
Once combat had been called for, and accepted, the chief justiciar decreed that it must be accomplished that very afternoon, as he had business back in London and could not afford to be delayed. He announced the dismissal of the witnesses and requested Richard and Hugh to attend him in the sheriff’s office immediately. Then he departed. Gervase and Richard went out behind him.
The discharged witnesses did not leave the armory hall right away, but clustered in small groups, buzzing with excitement and casting speculative looks at Bernard and Hugh, who stood together in front of the justiciar’s table, talking intently.
“Let me be the one to fight Richard,” Bernard was saying to his young advocate. “I am the one who has been accused. I am the logical man to oppose him.”
Hugh looked amused. “Bernard, you are only just arisen from your sickbed. You are hardly in condition to oppose Richard.”