B0078XH7HQ EBOK (34 page)

Robert was continuing, the words spilling out now. ‘As soon as I saw him, saw that
smile
, I knew who he was and what I had to do. It was easy, really – he was already searching for some hint that my lord wasn’t loyal, so I wrote him a note saying that I had information which I would give him if he would meet me on top of the keep at midnight. It was easy to deliver: as you found out from the porter, when people see you every day they never notice you, so who would remark upon the earl’s squire moving in and out of the great chamber? I guessed that he wouldn’t be able to resist, so as midnight approached I left the earl’s bedchamber to go to the roof. I chose my location well: all I had to do was go out the chamber door and up the stairs, there was no one to pass, no one to see.’

‘Except Simon.’

The silence was vast, swallowing the room. Robert sat down on the stool which was the cell’s only furnishing and put his head in his hands. When he eventually looked up his voice had changed.

‘Simon. Yes. I was sure they were all asleep, but he must have woken and seen that I wasn’t there, and that was what was puzzling him. You asked us if anyone had gone past the bedchamber, but he must have realised that someone could leave the chamber just as well.’

His voice was near to cracking again. ‘But you must believe me, it was an accident. I could never have harmed him. I meant only to stop him, to ask him what was bothering him: if he’d said openly that he knew I wasn’t in the chamber I could have said something, given him a reason that he would have believed. But he wasn’t paying attention, wasn’t looking where he was going, and he fell so quickly that I couldn’t catch him. Please, Edwin, please, you must believe me.’

This was the one reassurance that Edwin was able to provide. ‘I do believe you.’

Robert heaved a deep sigh. ‘Thank you,’ he said, simply, as though a weight had been lifted off him. ‘But,’ he stood up again, ‘deliberate or not, I caused his death, and for that alone I deserve to die. For that, not for what I did to de Courteville.’

Grimly, Edwin realised that he must ask for details which he did not want to hear. ‘What
did
you do to him?’

Robert began pacing up and down, casting his mind back to the darkness on top of the keep. ‘I waited for him. I knew I would only have one chance, for he was strong and an experienced warrior. I’d already made my plan – I couldn’t stab him, or I’d get covered in blood, and then everyone would know it was me. In some ways I wouldn’t have minded, for I would have made public what he did to my father and mother, and that I’d only taken revenge. But I knew this would lead to my death, and I found that I had a strange desire to live. It was as though my life could start once he was dead. So I had to find another way. Besides, he didn’t deserve to die by the blade. That’s a knight’s death, it’s the way men die in battle, and it was the way my father died. So I came up with something altogether more fitting.’

Edwin watched mutely as Robert held up the ring, the leather thong new and pale.

‘I used this. Or rather, I used the old one: the leather was thin and strong. As he walked around the roof, all I had to do was step out, throw it around his neck and pull.’ As he spoke, he matched his gestures to his words, and Edwin looked on, horrified but unable to drag his eyes away.

‘It’s easier than you think. He didn’t have time to get his hands in the way, so it went right around his neck. I put my knee into his back and pulled with both hands, watching him struggle. I pulled as hard as I could; it didn’t just strangle him, it cut right into his neck, and I was glad to see it. As I was doing it I told him who I was and why I was killing him – I wanted him to know what was happening, to know who was being avenged. I sincerely hope that he understood.’

There was silence for a few moments.

‘Once it was done, I went back down to the chamber, thinking that no one had seen me. The next day I realised that my necklet was covered in blood so I got rid of it, and I was also able to dispose of the letter. I hadn’t realised Adam knew about it, but I managed to convince him that it wasn’t important, and while we were supposedly looking for it I took it and hid it. I had to tell you of its existence, though, even if it meant I might be damning myself: if I hadn’t, and Adam had mentioned it, you might have wondered why you’d been left to find out from a stranger and not your best friend.’

There was silence while they both considered the import of Robert’s last two words. Robert spoke again, more quickly, as if to fill in the gap.

‘So there you have it. One thing which I didn’t imagine, though, was being sent up to fetch the body – although I suppose I should have expected it. I hadn’t seen him properly the night before, as it was dark, but in the light of day he looked grotesque. Martin took one look at him and lost his stomach. I just stared at him, trying to see if I felt anything, but all I could think was that I was glad he was dead, and that he’d suffered, and that I could now put the past behind me and embark on a new life. Then I realised that if anyone saw that tongue sticking out, they would know he’d been strangled. Not that that would have led anyone to me, particularly, but I wanted to make things as difficult as possible. I didn’t know that my lord would set you to find out what had happened. If I had, I would …’ he trailed off, unable to finish.

‘What would you have done? Left him alive?’

Robert considered his answer. ‘No, I couldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I would have done, but I’m sorry that you should have got mixed up in it. I didn’t think – I had nothing else on my mind except revenge, and I didn’t consider the consequences, other than that I might die.’

So now Edwin knew everything. Or not quite everything, for how could he now say that he knew what was going on in Robert’s mind? There was still one very large aspect which he couldn’t understand.

‘But how could you kill? How could you take a human life like that, in cold blood?’

Robert gave a rueful laugh.

‘Oh, Edwin, my friend, there is the gulf between us. All my life I’ve been trained to be a knight, and that’s what we do: we take lives. We rule over manors and sentence people to death, we ravage the lands of others and kill their commoners, we fight in battle to kill others, and when we’re not fighting wars we take part in tournaments which maim and destroy others. We kill; it’s our purpose in life. Had I faced de Courteville on a battlefield I would be praised for killing him, would be rewarded by my leader for my deed, but as it is … as it is, I shall die for it.’

The starkness of the words shook Edwin to his very core. And yet there was no other way. A life – two lives – had been taken, and a life must be forfeit in return. Robert was right: this was the difference between them. For Edwin could never hold human life as cheaply as did the nobility. For all that he sometimes associated with them, he was much closer to the ordinary people, the people who lived and worked and died on the estate, who lived in fear of the bad harvest or an outbreak of disease. Children who died in the winter, mothers who died in childbirth, men who died in accidents. And through all of this the people struggled and fought with every sinew to hold on to their lives, and to make them worth living. He could never disregard that.

Robert was continuing, unaware of his friend’s thoughts. He had only a very short time left to live and there was so much he wanted to say. How could he express it? How could he put his overwhelming feelings into speech?

‘Edwin, I …’

There were no words.

He tried again.

‘Edwin, I can’t say that I’m sorry de Courteville is dead, for I’m not. If I could live the past few days over, I would still kill him. But I’m sorry at what has happened, sorry about Berold, sorry that you’ve been brought into it. If you’d failed to find out that it was me, failed in the first task that the earl set you, your future wouldn’t have been certain, and that’s something I regret deeply. I’ve had my revenge, my father’s revenge, but I’ve pulled in those around me. I’m sorry that you were involved, and Martin, and Simon,’ his voice shook, ‘and most of all the earl. I’ve served him all my life, and it’s my regret that I couldn’t keep him out of this.’

‘But you didn’t keep him out of it.’

Edwin and Robert both turned to the door, which had opened without them noticing. There stood the earl, his face showing nothing. Edwin moved to allow him to enter, and Robert backed away against the wall, ashen, needing the support it offered.

The earl stepped into the room and moved first to Edwin, who felt afraid. The face, the authority …
not just the lord of the manor, but one of the most powerful men in the kingdom
.

The earl saw his fear and spoke. ‘You have done well. You have fulfilled your promise to me, even though you may wish that you had not. This I value, and you shall not go unrewarded. But for now, leave us.’

His word was law. Edwin escaped, grateful but ashamed of his fear, out into the coolness of the night.

Martin was standing outside. He caught hold of Edwin’s arm and gripped it tightly, painfully. His eyes pleaded, wanting Edwin to tell him that it couldn’t be true, that there had been some terrible mistake. Edwin couldn’t give the reassurance that was needed; he merely looked up into the other’s face, eyes huge and dark with suffering, and shook his head. Martin slackened his grip, and each turned away to be private with his own grief.

The earl turned to Robert, who fell to his knees.

‘Get up.’

Robert couldn’t respond; he was paralysed.

‘Get up and face me.’

The power was overwhelming. Robert had never disobeyed an order from that voice, and he couldn’t do so now. He stood, and slowly raised his face to gaze into the steel-grey eyes.

‘You have betrayed me.’ The voice was like the judgement of the Almighty.

‘My lord … I didn’t do it to betray you. It was personal – to suddenly see, after all these years, the man who killed my parents … I couldn’t help myself!’

‘Yet you had no thought for those who have sheltered you since that time. Who have fed and clothed you, and brought you up as one of their own.’ The voice was implacable.

‘But my lord …’

The earl continued, speaking over him and forcing him to silence. ‘You could have caused civil war! Or at least more of a civil war than there already is. The barons were in revolt against John, me included, and through this we allowed that French whoreson to come into the country and attempt to take it. He may be an able man, but he’s not our king, and never will be. Our king is a boy, a boy who needs our support against the invader. We’re rallying behind him and you’ve jeopardised all this – you’ve put into peril the alliance of lords at a time when we need to fight together. The king may be a boy, but he’s our king, and he should not be made to suffer for the deeds of his father.’

The sense of having nothing left to lose made Robert react rashly, and he lost his temper. ‘Not suffer for the deeds of his father? What do you think I’ve been doing for the whole of my life?’ His voice rose with emotion. ‘Have I not suffered for the deeds of my father? He did what he thought to be right for the good of the kingdom, and he was murdered and ground into dust, his arms erased as though he’d never existed. How is that fair? How have I not suffered for what he did?’

In his anger he stepped forward and laid his hands on the earl, who exploded into fury. He grabbed Robert by the shoulders and shook him, incandescent with rage. ‘You stupid boy! Of course you’ve suffered, but does this give you the right to make others suffer in their turn? Do you have any
conception
of the consequences of your actions? You kill a man here, in my home, a man who is on his way to support the regent, the most powerful lord in the kingdom. If he takes against me, do you know what could happen? My lands invaded, war raging here. Your friend Edwin dead, and his mother and father too. The villages burned, the castle besieged, the people starving … is this what you wanted? Because, by God, we will be lucky to avoid it!’ He shook Robert harder and slammed him back against the wall.

At long last the consequences of his action sank in on Robert. He slumped, covered his face with his hands and began to weep, his shoulders shaking.

But the earl hadn’t finished. He stepped back and composed himself before speaking in a more level tone, his voice relenting. ‘But all this I could forgive. I could forgive the murder, I could forgive the consequences, and I could even forgive the betrayal of the man who has been close to me these many years, as close to me as my own son.’ Robert’s shoulders shook more, and he couldn’t look up. ‘But Simon.’ The earl’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I could never forgive you for Simon.’