Page 300 of The Daughters of Avalon
“Whoever the fourth rider is… he didn’t linger long. He took a gander, then moved along.”
“Neither did he bother to inspect the body,” said Giles, pointing to the sack of coppers. “Else he hadn’t much interest in coins.”
“So, he’s in pursuit of the others?”
Giles nodded. “That’s what I gather. Can you tell which direction they are going?”
Wilhelm examined the woodlands, then peered up into the trees at the sun in the sky. “They came southwest, more or less, traveling northeast.”
Indeed, they were traveling in the direction of Warkworth. Instinct told him that it must be Marcella, and if that was the case, she was coming from Blackwood, and the extrication had gone according to plan. He’d yet to reveal the plan to her sisters, because he hadn’t wished to raise their hopes. In fact, he hadn’t even told Wilhelm, because Wilhelm could keep no secrets from his wife. He didn’t know who the fourth rider could be, but it wasn’t Morwen. That witch wouldn’t be traveling alone unless it was her manservant. But this was a big country, and, in fact, it could be anyone—Eustace, included.
He didn’t say so, however. If, for an instant, Wilhelm thought there might be danger en route to Warkworth, God himself couldn’t keep the man from returning home. Nay, he had long ago learned to follow his gut, and his gut said to let this go, and continue their mission.
It went against his sense of propriety to steal a dead man’s coins, so he left them where they were, knowing good and well that they would be gone with the next passerby.
So be it. Better it should go to someone in need. He had plenty of his own.
“Do you know to whom these lands belong?” asked Wilhelm, still studying the landscape.
Giles peered about, and said, “I’d gander ’tis a Royal Forest, perhaps Morfe, south of Wellington and Amdel?”
“Beauchamp’s seat?”
“Perhaps,” said Giles as he nodded. “The idiot. Word came whilst I was still at Wallingford… he met his end at the end of Blaec d’Lucy’s blade.”
“Will he be punished?”
“D’Lucy?” Giles shook his head. “Nay. To the contrary. He’s been raised to Earl by order of King Stephen. His brother renounced the seat.”
“Will Duke Henry honor it?”
Giles shrugged again. “Who knows, brother.”
Wilhelm scratched his head. “What of Beauchamp’s land?”
“Haven’t a bloody clue,” said Giles. “He’s survived by a sister, who’s, in fact, wed to Blaec, so I don’t know how it will reconcile. What I do know is that Stephen will take his counsel from Duke Henry, and Duke Henry will not welcome the opportunity to reward Stephen’s barons. Rather, he’ll award lands to those who supported him.”
Wilhelm pointed down to the corpse. “Think he’s one of the men who rode out with Eustace?”
Considering everything, Giles peered over at the dead man’s horse. The animal might slow them down, but it would be cruel to leave it to fend for itself. “Could be,” he said. “But if so, I’d warrant it wasn’t Eustace who killed him. That greedy bugger would have taken his coins.”
“Probably,” said Wilhelm, with disgust. “Could be this one left him and met a poor end on his own. With Darkwood so close, there’s no telling what skamelars lay in wait.”
“Very true,” said Giles, and then both their gazes slid one toward the other. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Amdel lies empty?” asked Wilhelm.
Giles nodded. “Aye.”
“Do you think Eustace might be there?”
“I don’t know,” said Giles, lifting his brows. “Let’s go see.”
Dinogad’s shift is speckled, speckled,
Made from marten pelts.
‘Wee! Wee!’ Whistling.
