They both looked up at Bascot's entrance and a welcoming smile spread over the secretary's genial features. "Sir Bascot! You are well come. I am just inspecting the work Lambert has done on the book I told you about, the one describing Gianni's gestures. Lambert has done a fine job. Perhaps you would like to see it."

He pa.s.sed the sheets of medium-grade vellum to the Templar, and Bascot saw that Blund's praise was well merited. On each page there was a drawing of one or both hands, the fingers curved to depict the motion to be used. Underneath was a notation in Latin of how the hands should be held-whether palm outward, upward or in conjunction with each other-and the meaning of the signal. The drawings had been outlined with a quill sharpened to a fine point and the inscriptions were in clear and careful script. Bascot added his praise of the work to Blund's, and Lambert flushed with pleasure.

"Since Master Stephen will only be here until after the betrothal ceremony, I have asked permission from Lady Nicolaa to give him another lesson tonight," Blund said, "and one again tomorrow, perhaps in the daytime. Milady is most impressed with the book and asked Lambert to make an abridged copy of the work so the youngster can take it with him when he returns home." A frown creased the secretary's brow as he looked worriedly at the Templar. "I should also have asked your permission, Sir Bascot, for Gianni to attend the extra lessons. Please forgive my negligence, I beg of you."

Bascot smiled and quickly allayed Blund's fear of giving offence. "I am more than willing for Gianni to a.s.sist in the task. If his efforts, and yours, can benefit others such as Stephen, it is my Christian duty to aid you in the enterprise. You may avail yourself of Gianni's help as often as you like."

As Blund began to express his grat.i.tude for the Templar's offer, Bascot interrupted him. "I fear, having given my a.s.sent, I must make one exception to the use of Gianni's time. I have need of his services this morning but will ensure he is available for this evening's lesson."

"Of course, Sir Bascot," Blund replied. "You have my thanks for your generosity."

Noting the broad smile that lit Gianni's face at mention of a few more hours in Lucia's company, the Templar and the boy left the scriptorium and went down into Lincoln town.

Nineteen.

AS BASCOT AND GIANNI WERE MAKING THEIR WAY to the silversmith's manufactory, Iseult lay beside her husband in the small sleeping chamber they shared in the cramped lodgings above the mint. The room was cold and she shivered as she tried to find some warmth in the heavy layer of quilts covering her. She had not slept well, too irritated by the memory of the dismal reception her story of Ta.s.ser's arrest had elicited from both Legerton and her husband.

It had been almost time for the evening meal to be served when Iseult and the maidservant returned. Not able to contain her exciting news, Iseult blurted it out as soon as the men came upstairs from the exchange, not even waiting until the servant girl had a chance to pour them each a cup of wine. Iseult had expected that Legerton, at least, would pay attention as she told of how fearful Ta.s.ser had looked and repeated the comments she had heard from the bystanders, but the exchanger's only response had been a tightening of his lips and a pretense of disinterest. Even her husband, Simon, had paid her words no mind; merely gave a nod to signify he had heard and turned away.

Frustrated by their att.i.tude, Iseult went next door to the moneyer's house, hoping that Blanche de Stow would be willing to engage in gossip about the silversmith's arrest. But when she was ushered into de Stow's hall, she found that Blanche had, like herself, been among the crowd of spectators that witnessed Ta.s.ser's downfall. Just as disappointing was that neither Blanche nor her husband seemed interested in speculating about his crimes and had even gone so far as to show a disinclination for her company, begging her to excuse their lack of hospitality by claiming to be tired and intent on retiring early.

Iseult found it all most confusing. Later, after enduring an evening of dull conversation between Legerton and Simon about work in the exchange, Iseult snuggled up to her husband in bed, hoping to enjoy a marital romp to relieve the tedium. But he turned his back on her, feigning tiredness. It was an excuse he had lately begun to use, but Iseult was not completely surprised. He had proved to be a disappointing lover right from the first days of their marriage. Their wedding night had been the only time Simon seemed greedy for her body, and even then he had been reticent, especially after she made a pretense of pain when he supposedly ruptured her maidenhead.

All these thoughts had caused her to toss and turn restlessly, angry there was no one interested in her news, or her charms, annoyed by the coldness of the weather and the chamber, and disappointed by the absence of the draper's son when she had gone to his father's shop. She was bored beyond her patience and knew the only remedy for it would be to visit her sister, Lisette. She was not close to her elder sibling-Lisette was cut in the mould of their father, sanctimonious and disapproving of what she called her sister's "ill-advised behaviour"-but at least she would be interested in a firsthand accounting of Ta.s.ser's arrest. Even though Lisette was a prig she did, for all that, like to indulge in a bit of gossip.

BASCOT AND GIANNI SPENT MOST OF THE MORNING searching the silversmith's premises. The manufactory was locked when they arrived, with a guard at the door, but the sheriff had given Bascot the keys confiscated from Ta.s.ser when he was arrested. The silversmith's two remaining employees had been ordered to go to their homes and stay there until they were deemed innocent of connivance, or otherwise, in the theft of the stolen pieces of silver, so there was no one on the property to hinder their search.

Once inside, they went up to the floor above the manufactory and into Ta.s.ser's office. Since access to the hidey-hole was in this chamber, it was here the pair began their search. When a careful examination of each of the stones in the rear wall revealed none loose in their setting except the one screening the hiding place, they turned their attention to the floorboards, carefully knocking on each one to ensure the s.p.a.ce beneath was not hollow. When the search proved fruitless, they carried out the same procedure in Ta.s.ser's sleeping chambers.

Bascot then hoisted Gianni up onto his shoulders so he could crawl into the small s.p.a.ce under the roof of the building, gaining entry through a trapdoor in the ceiling of the main bedchamber. The Templar waited hopefully as he heard the boy scamper across the boards above him, prying into every corner. When Gianni reappeared and shook his head, they went downstairs to the hall and carried out the same procedure there and also in the kitchen. Still finding nothing, they went into the manufactory. This was a much more difficult area to sift through, as there were shelves closely packed with the implements of Ta.s.ser's trade and numerous boxes containing everything from strands of fine silver wire to the lumps of tin used to make an alloy with melted silver.

Leaving Gianni to examine the stones of the forge-which were now cold-Bascot turned his attention to the locked chests on the floor. Although he and Roget had examined the contents a few days before, Bascot wanted to make sure the silversmith had not, in the interim, added coins previously hidden in the wall. Again, their efforts proved useless. No more secreted items were found, nor did any of the coins in Ta.s.ser's money chests bear any image other than that of King John, his brother Richard, or their father, King Henry.

Tired and frustrated, their hands and faces begrimed from their efforts-especially Gianni's-the pair went into the tiny room that Roger Fardein had used for sleeping. It was as bare as the Templar remembered, the scuffed leather satchel still hanging empty from a peg on the wall and the dented pewter mug and empty flagon sitting on the small table beside the apprentice's thin mattress. Nonetheless, Bascot asked Gianni to search the room again and watched as the boy ran his nimble fingers over the straw of the pallet and around the plank on which the bed rested. He then examined every crack and crevice he could find, both where the floor joined the wall and along the wood of the doorway, ending his search by making a gesture asking the Templar to hoist him aloft so he could run his fingers along the top of the lintel above the door. The boy was extremely thorough and Bascot knew Gianni hoped to repeat a previous triumph when he had found a sc.r.a.p of red cloth that had proved instrumental in discovering the ident.i.ty of a murderer, but this time his endeavours were in vain. At last the boy turned to his master with a doleful expression and shook his head, reluctantly admitting defeat. The Templar was disappointed, and knew the sheriff would be also, but was certain that if there were more valuables to be found, their search had ensured they were not hidden on Ta.s.ser's property.

Clapping Gianni on the shoulder and a.s.suring him that even if his efforts had not been fruitful, they had been worthwhile, he gave the boy two silver pennies from his scrip and told him to go and purchase a couple of meat pies from the nearest bake shop and a jug of ale from an alehouse farther up Mikelgate.

"There are only the silversmith's records left for us to go through," he said. "I doubt whether he was foolish enough to make a record of his illegal transactions, but we must be sure. The task will take some time and it is nearly midday. Once you return and we have eaten, we will begin."

As Gianni hurried away, Bascot returned to the upper storey of the dwelling and back into the room Ta.s.ser used as an office. A chill was beginning to creep over the building now the forge had gone out, and the Templar pulled his cloak closer around him as he looked for, and found, a tinderbox to ignite the charcoal lying in a brazier. He also touched the flame to a couple of beeswax candles standing in handsome silver holders. While he waited for Gianni to return, he pulled some of the rolled sheets of parchments from the pigeonholes of a large open-face cupboard and looked at the dates appended on the outside. The ones he had taken out were from several years before so he searched until he found those that pertained to the last few months and placed them on the table alongside some blank sheets of parchment, an inkpot and a sheaf of quill pens.

After Gianni returned and they had eaten their makeshift meal, it had not taken long to determine that Ta.s.ser was a careful record keeper, even if his literacy seemed to be limited to an odd combination of words in Anglo-Norman, French and Latin. One of the items described in the lists, a silver saltcellar, was entered as a saler saler, which was an Anglo-Norman word derived from the Latin sal sal for salt, while the word used to describe the silver gilt overlaying the cellar was a French word, for salt, while the word used to describe the silver gilt overlaying the cellar was a French word, argent argent. Spoons were listed in French as cuiller cuiller while a paten made for the nearby church of St. Peter at Arches was described by the Latin word while a paten made for the nearby church of St. Peter at Arches was described by the Latin word patina patina. Ta.s.ser's writing was not scholarly, but it was legible, and the figures noting monetary amounts precisely limned. Most of the sheets seemed to be a recording of pieces made in the manufactory, with a list of purchasers down the left-hand side of the page, and a description of the item and date alongside. Every entry had three amounts arranged in columns on the right-hand side. The first number appeared to denote the cost of manufacturing the item, the second the amount for which it had been sold and the third the profit gained from the transaction. Bascot and Gianni went through each one, but could find nothing untoward.

They turned next to a pile of scrolls tied in a bundle with a silk ribbon. Most of these gave the delivery date and cost of supplies but a few were lists of items bought for resale. All of the latter were purchases from local citizens, the names of some of them familiar to Bascot, and recorded the customers' placement of an item either as a deposit on the commission of a new piece or as a sale for cash money. There was no record of the jewellery Cotty had discovered, or of the pieces of stolen silver found in the manufactory the day before, but Bascot had not dared to hope there would be.

Only one list defied an understanding of its purpose. It merely had a column of single letters down the left-hand side of the page-a half dozen altogether-each letter different except for the appearance of L L twice, and beside each letter was an amount. Two of the sums were considerable, but all of them above one hundred shillings. Gianni and Bascot pored over it for a time, but it seemed to bear no relation to any of the other records or have any obvious meaning. Finally they pushed it aside in frustration. twice, and beside each letter was an amount. Two of the sums were considerable, but all of them above one hundred shillings. Gianni and Bascot pored over it for a time, but it seemed to bear no relation to any of the other records or have any obvious meaning. Finally they pushed it aside in frustration.

The Templar again scrutinised the records relating to the industry of the manufactory. The silversmith's profits from his legitimate business were considerable. Ta.s.ser was a very rich man. That being so, why did he feel the need to have dealings with thieves? Not only was he risking prosecution under the law but also the loss of membership in his guild. Was it simply greed? Was Ta.s.ser, like the fabled King Midas of Phrygia, so consumed with his love of wealth that he would risk all, and perhaps even commit murder, to slake his l.u.s.t for money?

Bascot shrugged. The impulses that drew men to break G.o.d's commandments were varied and complicated. The reason why one man committed a mortal sin could be quite different from the urge that prompted another to the same terrible act.

With resignation, and an unwarranted sense of failure, the pair rose from their chairs and doused the candles. After covering the brazier with a metal cap to extinguish the burning embers, they locked the door securely and made their way back to the castle ward.

Twenty.

AS BASCOT AND GIANNI WALKED THROUGH BAILGATE, they could see a st.u.r.dy cart trundling through the castle gate, laden with small pieces of stone. The rubble was purchased from the cathedral quarry on a regular basis during the winter season, and used to fill in the shallow holes pitted in the bail by rain or snow. Just as the tail end of the cart disappeared under the archway, they heard a rumbling noise and the sound of voices raised in anger. Hastening their steps, they saw that the hinged gate at the back of the cart had come unpinned and part of the load had spilled into the castle entryway.

"Get that b.l.o.o.d.y lot cleared up, and fast! You're blocking pa.s.sage into the ward." It was Ernulf who was shouting at the unfortunate carter, running across the bail in the direction of the gate as he did so.

The driver stepped down from his seat and Bascot was surprised to see it was Cerlo, the mason who had reported the finding of Brand's body. Surely, the Templar thought, delivering a load of broken stone was a ch.o.r.e beneath the talents of a journeyman mason. Ernulf, too, pulled up short when he recognised the driver.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Cerlo," Ernulf apolo gised. "I thought you were that dozy cowson who usually drives the cart. Why are you doing such a menial task?"

The mason mumbled something Bascot could not hear and Ernulf sent the gateward running for a couple of shovels and gave him instructions to help clear up the mess. The Templar waited until all the pieces of stone had been shovelled up and then he and Gianni walked through the entryway. As he pa.s.sed the cart, the mason saw him and raised a hand to his brow respectfully, his eyes downcast. The leather ap.r.o.n with capacious pockets at the hem that Cerlo wore was covered in stone dust, and the mason mopped his brow wearily as he clambered back onto the wagon.

Sending Gianni to wash his grimy face and hands at the well in the castle bathhouse, Bascot walked across the bail with Ernulf.

"Sad to see a man brought so low," the serjeant remarked.

"Are you speaking of Cerlo?" Bascot asked.

Ernulf nodded. "Aye. Alexander, the master builder at the cathedral, told him today he'd be out of a job come spring. 'Tis Cerlo's eyes that are the cause. They're failing, and he can no longer see well enough to use his chisel. He's been overseeing the quarry for the last few weeks while the quarry master was laid up in town with a broken leg, but the master is now fit enough to return to work and Cerlo is no longer needed. That's why he was drivin' the cart. Alexander promised he'd try to keep him busy throughout the rest of the winter if he could, but not beyond that."

Bascot remembered the odd way the mason held his head. The reason for it was now explained. "Can nothing be done to heal his eyes?"

Ernulf shook his head. "He went to see Brother Jehan at the infirmary but the monk told him there wasn't any remedy and warned he'd soon be blind." The serjeant's face was grim.

"Surely the mason's guild will help him?" Bascot said.

"They'll give him a bit of money to see he doesn't starve-that's what the guild members pay their dues for, after all-but it won't be enough to keep him and his wife indefinitely," Ernulf replied. "He'll lose the house they live in, too. It's on cathedral property and is only for the use of those employed by the Minster." Ernulf shook his grizzled head. "'Tis a hard thing to grow old and lose your abilities."

Bascot nodded in agreement, his own impaired vision inspiring commiseration for Cerlo. The Templar thanked G.o.d the sight in his one remaining eye was still sharp and prayed it would remain so.

Bascot waited with Ernulf in the barracks until Gianni returned from the bathhouse, and then told the boy he was going to report to the sheriff that, unfortunately, they had not found anything in the manufactory to provide evidence of Ta.s.ser's involvement in an unreported treasure trove.

IT WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON BY THE TIME BASCOT went to interrogate the silversmith. The winter day was already darkening and spatters of rain were beginning to fall, driven on their course by a rising wind. Ta.s.ser was in a distraught condition when the Templar entered the cell. His squat body was curled up on a straw pallet in the corner and the posture enhanced his unfortunate resemblance to a toad. The fine tunic the silversmith had been wearing when arrested was soiled and his embroidered silk hat lay on the floor.

When the guard opened the door and Bascot came in, Ta.s.ser struggled to his knees, his bulbous eyes fearful. "Sir Bascot," he pleaded, hands clutched together in supplication, "please, for the love of G.o.d, tell me you have come to release me from this h.e.l.lhole."

"No, silversmith, I have not," Bascot replied. "You are to be charged with the murder of your apprentice, Roger Fardein, and will remain here until Sheriff Camville convenes his court and tries you for the crime."

"But I did not kill Roger, I swear to you," Ta.s.ser said, his fleshy lips quivering. "Why would I do such a thing?"

Bascot shrugged. "We have proof you are a criminal. Perhaps your apprentice threatened to report you to the authorities."

Ta.s.ser shook his head dolefully. "Since you found stolen items in my possession, I have no choice but to admit I have consorted with thieves, but that is all I have done. I have murdered no one."

"Fardein knew of your illegal dealings, did he not?" Bascot asked.

The silversmith gave a forlorn nod. "But Roger was not a threat to me. He was a willing partner in the transactions. It was through him that contact with the thieves was made. Whenever one of them had something to sell, they would come to the alehouse where Roger drank and tell him what they had to offer. If a piece seemed valuable enough to interest me, Roger would bring the item to the manufactory and we would decide together how much we would offer for it."

Ta.s.ser turned his sorrowful gaze on his inquisitor. "I paid Fardein a commission for each item I bought and I have no doubt the thieves paid for his services as well. He also took some of the stolen items to silversmiths in other towns, men who, if the price was low enough, were not overnice of how he had come by them. I paid Roger a further commission for that service. He was more than content with the arrangement and had no reason to threaten me with exposure." Ta.s.ser gave a great sigh. "I am sorry to say that Roger drank and wh.o.r.ed away most of the money he earned, but he was a man with powerful urges and the extra income provided him with the means to satisfy them."

He paused for a moment, and then added, "It was Roger who persuaded me to have commerce with thieves in the first instance," he said. "Why would he wish to lose what was, to him, a lucrative source of income by reporting me to the sheriff?"

"Perhaps because he wanted more than just a small commission for selling the jewellery found in your hiding place," Bascot replied. "They are costly items; worth far more than the other pieces you had stored there. Perhaps he wanted a larger cut and you murdered him in order to keep it all for yourself."

"That jewellery was not stolen," Ta.s.ser burst out. "I bought it in good faith."

Bascot felt his pulse race a little. "It is not listed in the records you keep of such transactions," he said harshly. "I have been through them all. There is no mention of the chain and pendant, rings or cloak clasp."

Ta.s.ser clamped his fleshy lips shut tight and looked away.

"Well, silversmith, what do you have to say?" Bascot demanded. "If you bought them, as you say, in good faith, there should be a record of the purchase. I think they, like the other items, were stolen and you killed your apprentice in order to keep all the profit for yourself."

"No, no, I . . ." The silversmith swallowed hastily, and then said, "I purchased those pieces of jewellery recently, just before Christ's Ma.s.s. I had not yet had time to enter them in my records."

"Then tell me from whom you bought them. I will go to the original owner and verify your claim."

Ta.s.ser shook his head in agitation. "Even if I tell you, it will not help clear me. The man who sold me the jewellery is dead."

"What is, or was, his name?"

"Peter Brand," the silversmith replied.

"APPARENTLY, BRAND CAME TO Ta.s.sER WITH THE jewellery and claimed it was part of an inheritance left by his father," Bascot told the sheriff, Richard Camville and Gilbert Ba.s.sett later that evening.

"Brand also told the silversmith that while he was reluctant to sell the pieces, he needed money to enable him to get married and set up a home for him and his bride," the Templar added. "Ta.s.ser admitted he thought the story had a false ring to it but because Brand was a respectable clerk in the mint, he had no basis to doubt it. Ta.s.ser also said he did not have any means of checking whether Brand's claim was true since the clerk was from Grantham and not a local man whose family, and possible wealth, were known in Lincoln. The silversmith said he agreed to the purchase and had been intending to record the items in his inventory, but when Brand was found dead in the quarry, he became alarmed, worrying the jewellery was connected in some way to the clerk's death. Ta.s.ser claims he then decided to hide it away with the other stolen items until he could be sure it was safe to dispose of it."

"Do you think the clerk's claim of inheriting the jewellery is genuine?" Gerard Camville asked.

"I doubt it, lord," Bascot replied wryly. "De Stow told me Brand's father was a tanner and left his widow dest.i.tute. It is not likely he would have owned such costly adornments."

"And Ta.s.ser's tale-do you think he is telling the truth?" Ba.s.sett asked, scepticism written on his face.

"I believe so," Bascot replied slowly. "But only for the fact that if Ta.s.ser had come by the jewellery in some other way-especially if it was part of a trove-he would not have mentioned Brand at all. It would not have been hard for him to make up some tale that sounded plausible, such as buying them, through Fardein, from a thief whose ident.i.ty he didn't know."

Camville's face was dark with anger. "Or he killed the moneyer's clerk and, by saying it was Brand who sold him the jewellery, he is providing an explanation for his link to the dead man. If Fardein found out what his employer had done and was trying to extort payment for keeping silent, it would explain Ta.s.ser's need to kill his apprentice."

"It is possible, I suppose, lord," Bascot admitted reluctantly but, as he recalled the soft body of the silversmith, added, "but somehow I cannot see Ta.s.ser having the physical strength to creep up on two much younger, and stronger, men and kill them. Cunning he may be, but that type of bravado requires stealth and courage. I do not think Ta.s.ser possesses either."

Gerard snorted in derision but, well aware of Ta.s.ser's physical weakness, accepted Bascot's opinion could be valid.

"You will either have to charge the silversmith with Fardein's murder or let him go, Father," Richard said. "Despite having been found in possession of stolen goods, he is a prominent citizen of Lincoln, not some wolf's head captured in the greenwood. Even if he is not popular with other members of his guild, it is their duty to enquire after his welfare and ensure he is fairly treated. They will ask why he is being kept in the castle gaol and has not been allowed to stand surety for his appearance in your court."

"Richard is right, Gerard," Ba.s.sett agreed. "If there is no evidence to prove that Ta.s.ser killed Fardein or Brand, you cannot keep him penned up indefinitely. It would be best to release him and let the possibility of a trove lie fallow for the moment. From what you have told me of Coroner Pinchbeck, he will be satisfied with a resolution of 'by a person or persons unknown' as a result of your investigation into the murders, and consider that an end to the matter. If further information comes to light about a cache of valuables, you can pursue it later, and at your own discretion."

Camville reluctantly accepted the wisdom of his friend's advice, but added, "I will keep Ta.s.ser confined for a few days longer, at least until Epiphany. After that, de Marins, I would have you question him again before I order his release. A few more days in the discomfort of the castle gaol may prompt him to reveal something he has so far kept hidden."

"As you wish, lord," Bascot replied and then, since the road to Grantham was now reasonably clear, asked the sheriff if he wished him to go there and speak to the clerk's mother and the girl Brand had hoped to marry.

Camville shook his head. "No. I received a message from the town bailiff this morning. As soon as de Stow learned of Brand's death, he sent a messenger to Grantham with a letter for the clerk's mother. The courier was prevented from immediate return by the recent snowfall and just arrived back in Lincoln yesterday, but he told the moneyer-who pa.s.sed the information along to the bailiff-that the mother and girl had made arrangements to travel to Lincoln and will arrive shortly. It is the mother's intention, apparently, to take her son's body back to Grantham for burial. You can speak to them both when they arrive."

Twenty-one.

ON THE FOURTH DAY OF THE NEW YEAR, NICOLAA DE la Haye rose early and sent for Eudo, her steward, to discuss the arrangements for the festivities to be held after the betrothal ceremony. After speaking to Eudo, she summoned the rest of the senior household staff. One by one, the cook, butler, table clothier, head usher and chandler reported on the sufficiency of supplies and the stage of their preparations. When she was confident all were carrying out their duties in a competent manner, she called John Blund and dictated some urgent letters, including one to the king, thanking him once again for allowing a liaison between her son and Gilbert Ba.s.sett's daughter. The letter would take some time to reach the monarch, for King John had spent the season of Christ's Ma.s.s at Argentan in Normandy, but Nicolaa knew that however long it took to reach him, it would please John to be reminded of her grat.i.tude and loyalty.

Before Blund left her chamber, Nicolaa asked how Stephen of Turville's lessons were progressing. Blund's faded blue eyes lit up with pleasure. "Very well, lady. Lambert has taken a great many notes and has already started work on the book of instruction I mentioned to you. We have great hopes of its efficacy. And Mistress Lucia told me that Stephen's mother, Lady Maud, has now become most enthusiastic about the project and has, in turn, learned some of the movements. She is, apparently, most gratified by her new ability to communicate with her son, even if it is only in a limited fashion."

The secretary went on to tell Nicolaa that although Lambert was preparing an abridged copy of the manual for Stephen, Lady Maud had asked that a copy of the entire book be sent to the Turville household once it was completed. "I am sure there will be others who want a copy, lady," he said and then became embarra.s.sed for a moment before he added, "Lambert and I had thought to call it 'A Manual of a Silent Language for those Afflicted with Muteness and Difficulty in Speaking' and with your permission, we would like to dedicate it to you."

Nicolaa gave her faithful secretary a smile. "I would be honoured, John, although I fear I do not deserve such a compliment. I have had little to do with the compilation of the book."

Blund earnestly dismissed her objection. "Without your gracious permission for Lambert to spend time away from his duties to gather the information, lady, the manual would not have been possible. It is only right that your act of compa.s.sion be recognised."

Nicolaa thanked him and Blund left the room. Once he had gone, she poured herself a cup of hot spiced cider and sat down to enjoy a few moments of solitude. Such quietness had been rare these last few days for her time had been taken up with her guests and preparations for the betrothal. As she sipped the cider, she tried to mentally review the arrangements she had made but found that her conversation with Gerard the night before kept invading her thoughts like an unwanted guest. She had shared her husband's frustration when Gerard told her that although the silversmith admitted he had bought the jewellery from Peter Brand, there was no evidence to link him to the clerk's murder or discovery of a trove.

"I am not convinced Ta.s.ser is uninvolved in either of these matters," Gerard had said, "and I have asked de Marins to question him again in a few days, after the betrothal ceremony has taken place."

While they had not spoken of the ramifications that could devolve on Gerard if a trove was implicated in the deaths, it was on both of their minds. If King John learned that such important information had been suppressed by his sheriff, only the basest of motives would be attributed to keeping it a secret. She could only hope the Templar would, as he had done in the past, get to the truth of the matter and, in doing so, prove Gerard's suspicions were without foundation.

IN THE HALL BELOW, THERE WAS A GREAT DEAL OF activity as servants ran to and fro preparing the huge chamber for yet another round of feasting. Fresh rushes were placed on the floor, musicians tuned their instruments and casks of wine were trundled up and placed in the b.u.t.tery to replenish those used over the preceding days. The chandler ordered his minions to remove all the candles that had burned down low and replace them with new ones while maidservants carefully laid freshly laundered cloths on the tables.