‘Since I played a small part in you gaining these lands, the duke thought I should be the one to investigate these charges.’ Obert glanced up at him. ‘The duke does not wish his nobles to be fighting amongst themselves when their enemies yet traverse England.’
‘I have little liking for Lord Huard or his methods, my lord,’ Giles admitted. ‘But, I have done my duty to the duke and have taken this keep and these lands, holding them as he ordered.’
Before they could continue and Giles could offer any defence or even explanation of these charges, the doors opened and a large group of soldiers entered even as his and the duke’s men tried to keep them out. Eudes stood in the front, forcing his way through.
‘Did you ask him yet, my lord bishop?’ Sir Eudes demanded. ‘Or ask that traitorous Saxon bitch he married?’ Eudes spat on the floor. ‘Though anything she says cannot be trusted. A woman like that should be using her mouth for one thing only, I say,’ Eudes began, crudely rubbing his crotch, ‘and it’s not talking or praying, my lord bishop.’
Giles was out of the chair, dagger pulled, before he even realised it. He did not intend to kill Eudes but he would wound him. Every time the man opened his mouth it was for an obscene comment, and now he seemed to latch onto Fayth as his target. It would not do to allow his insults to continue.
He’d slashed out several times and landed two punches on the man before the duke’s men intervened and pulled them apart. Dragged back and tossed in his chair, Giles wiped his sleeve across his mouth and waited for the bishop’s words.
‘There was a more serious allegation made against you, Lord Giles.’
‘What was that, my lord?’ he asked. Seeing the knowing glint in Eudes’s eyes, he began to worry.
‘That you had one of King Harold’s sons and heirs as your prisoner and you released him.’
Eudes laughed loudly then but Giles could say nothing in response. He’d suspected Edmund was more than Fayth’s father’s steward or man-at-arms, he’d even suspected that he was Bertram’s liege lord here for Taerford, but had never expected the truth.
Did Fayth…? He never even finished the question in his mind. Of course, she knew. She’d begged for the man’s life and, like the fool he was, he’d let Edmund go.
‘Bring the lady here,’ the bishop called. Two of the duke’s soldiers stepped forward and nodded. Roger did nothing until Giles consented, which he did.
They waited in stifling silence for her to be brought to the hall. Would she admit to knowing Edmund or to her part in the deceit? He would have had him killed if he’d known. Rumours flew afterwards that Edmund had escaped from the battle early on and fled west with another son of Harold’s to try to regain the country for themselves or to support Edgar the Atheling’s stronger claim.
And he’d been here, within his walls! Within his grasp and released because of the glint of a promise in a woman’s eyes.
His head pounded then and he walked to the table and poured a cup of ale. His stomach rebelled and he almost heaved, but the sounds of her steps coming down the stairs drew his attention.
‘Lord Giles, I will handle this, if you please,’ the bishop said, motioning him away. ‘Sir Eudes, I will have you put out if you disturb this.’ The duke’s men moved behind the knight, ready to act at the bishop’s signal.
Giles could not look at her as she walked past him to the place the bishop designated. He could feel her fear and he knew she had the right to be afraid, for her actions would be seen in the way of Norman law now and her place as a Saxon lady held no sway here.
‘Fayth of Taerford, I demand that you only speak the truth in answer to my questions,’ the bishop intoned gravely.
‘Is it true that the man who you were attempting to marry when Lord Giles—’ the bishop started, but Fayth interrupted.
‘If I might explain, my lord,’ she said. ‘If I could speak to my husband…’
Not knowing if she held other secrets and fearing what else she might reveal, Giles waved her off. ‘He is Edmund Haroldson, is he not? Heir to his father, the late king and Earl of Wessex?’ he asked in a quiet voice, already knowing her answer.
She glanced at the others in the room for but a brief moment, before meeting his gaze. ‘Yes, my lord.’
Merde.
‘But, my lord, let me explain,’ she said, walking to him. At his nod, Roger seized her and pulled her away. The bishop ordered her to be taken back to their chambers.
‘That cannot be the end of it, my lord bishop,’ Sir Eudes called out. ‘She lied and she must be punished. She harboured the duke’s enemy and attacked his men. This one is too busy tupping her like a bitch in heat to be counted on to take the right measures.’
Eudes never saw the punch coming, Giles was moving before he even thought of it. Certain he broke the knight’s nose and possibly his jaw, he found the sound of the bones crunching beneath his fist was wonderfully satisfying.
‘That is one way of handling it,’ the bishop said, drolly, with a glance thrown at the man now lying bloody and unconscious in the rushes on the floor. ‘Get him out of here now.’
Giles ordered Eudes and his men to be taken outside his gates and kept under watch until the bishop gave orders otherwise. When the hall was cleared, he met the bishop’s gaze.
‘What is your pleasure, my lord bishop?’
‘I think the easiest way out of this quandary is for you to capture Edmund and turn him over to the duke. Then no one need question your wife’s involvement, or even yours, in Edmund’s escape or whereabouts.’
