“How are you?” he asked as she sat on the edge of their mattress. She looked dreadfully pale, and her eyes were half-closed, though the room was dark with the shutters barred against the cold darkness outside. He squatted by her and gently held her hand to his face.

“I am fine, now. Honestly.”

“You are safe, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“I thought I was going to die, for a while.”

“So did I. I hated standing there. Baldwin wouldn’t let me try to help you, and I…”

She shut his mouth with a finger. “It is over now.”

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to hold you again. I thought I was going to lose you. I love you.”

She smiled at the whispered words. “I love you too. I promise I will not leave you until you have a son.”

“I do not care about that right now. All I want is to see you well again.”

Margaret’s eyes closed, but then she remembered the conversation in the garden, and she sighed.

“What is it?”

“The Bishop was talking to me about Rollo when that man attacked us. Simon, I want us to have our own boy, not another’s. Is that selfish?”

“Selfish? Perhaps – but if you think I want any reminder of this afternoon, you are wrong. I couldn’t bear to have him in our household either. Don’t worry, I shall tell the good Bishop.”

When he returned to the hall, Baldwin was already there, seated near a frowning Stapledon. Peter was at the church exhorting the workmen to continue, and the three were alone for a while. After sitting in silence for some minutes, the Bishop peered at them. “Sir Baldwin, Simon, I must be more dense than I had realized, for I still cannot see how you have arrived at this conclusion.”

Baldwin smiled at the peering bishop. “It is a great deal more simple now, dealing with the matter in retrospect, because we actually have the sequence of events.”

“It’s hard,” Simon said, pouring himself more wine, “when you begin an investigation like this. At first everyone is trying to help, but all that means is you’ve got to try to isolate what is important from the mass of details which are uncovered. All too often there is so much which is irrelevant.”

Baldwin held his hand over his goblet as Simon offered more wine. He had already drunk far more than usual. “As you know, it looked bad for Cole from the first,” he began. “A new man joining, who was found after a couple of days with silver on him when Sir Hector’s plate had all been stolen, and then the girl was discovered… It was apparent that he must have been discovered in the course of this theft, and had killed Sarra before she could raise the alarm.”

“But,” Simon interrupted, waving his goblet so freely that wine slopped on to the floor, “How could Cole have known that he would have time to rob Sir Hector? He was too new to be trusted by most of the men there. And how could one man have carried off so much metal? If he was involved, he would have needed an accomplice.”

“Simon is correct. It was obvious to me that others should be sought. Another thing was that the girl had been stored in the chest unconscious, and killed later. That indicated to me that the murder and the robbery were not necessarily connected. Thus, although Sir Hector could hardly be implicated in stealing from himself, he might have had a hand in killing Sarra.”

“Then there was the question of whether Cole would have robbed the mercenary.” Simon smiled.

Stapledon put his head on one side. “What do you mean?”

“If you were desperate, would you steal from a mercenary warrior? From a captain, at that?” Simon asked, then, seeing the Bishop’s rueful shake of his head, pounced triumphantly. “No, of course not! Why? Because a man like that would scare any but the most hardened warrior. Is it likely that a youngster fresh from a farm would dare to challenge him?”

“Perhaps he was too unworldly…?” the Bishop murmured, but Baldwin smiled and shook his head.

“It will not do, Bishop. He had seen Sir Hector at close quarters for more than a day, and in any case, he knew of such men – his brother had died, and one who had known him had returned to tell Cole how he had died. Cole could not have been so stupid or naive as to have missed how dangerous Sir Hector was. It was one final piece of evidence which convinced me though.”

“What was that?”

“When I thought about it, there were two pairs of assaults. Cole and Sarra were struck by someone with a club or similar weapon, both hit in about the same place; Judith and Mary both had stab wounds in the back. The only different wounds were young Sarra’s: stabs to her chest from having a knife thrust down at her – so forcibly that the knife penetrated the cloth behind her. Cole and she had both been knocked out with blows to the left side of the head. It was not proof on its own, but it was quite conclusive when all the other points were taken into account.”

Simon rested his elbows on his thighs. “Cole was unlikely to have been the thief, and equally unlikely to have killed Sarra. If we accept that people would prefer to rob anyone other than a mercenary leader, who would have dared? Surely only another mercenary!”

“It is clear now what happened,” Baldwin said. “Henry and John knew Adam from the last time they were here. When they met and drank again, the two told the butcher how sick they were of their master’s overbearing manner. They had worked out the details of their theft in advance, and asked Adam if he would help them, but he refused. However, they knew something he didn’t: his wife was having an affair with their captain. Maybe they told him, maybe they didn’t; but he assuredly went home and found his wife in bed with Sir Hector, and that sealed the pact. He went back and saw Henry and John once more, and agreed to help them.”

“I expect they thought he’d just beat his wife, which was no more than they believed she deserved for her whoring around, and would agree to help them just so that he could get even with their master,” Simon said.

“Sir Hector trusted them most of all,” said Baldwin. “He told them he had an assignation with Mary that afternoon, and they made their plans accordingly. He went out, as they saw, and they visited his chamber a little later, on the pretext of seeing him about a horse. They unlocked the back shutters – it was more private than the front – and then left. Once they were outside again, while John stood guard, Henry climbed inside, opened the front, and began passing the plate out to the others. Adam was needed to repel unwelcome witnesses, and he managed it by eviscerating some animals. That, in the heat of the afternoon sun, was enough to scare everyone away. People in the streets tend to keep moving. They do not hang around in one place too much; they have errands to run, messages to deliver, or some other purpose. The men could pass the silver out, stow it in the wagon under sacks or something, and remain undiscovered.”

“And when they were done, John helped Henry out again,” said Simon, “before they went inside once more to lock up the shutters.”

“Meanwhile, Wat had given the dress to Sarra to try on. He was hoping it would anger his master so much that Sir Hector would kill her – his rages were known well enough – but she arrived too early. Henry knocked her out and stuffed her into the chest to hide her.”

Simon nodded. “But while they were outside, before they could get back in to lock the last shutter, Wat entered. He was hoping Sarra would be dead. He had given her the dress, taking it to her room and letting her think it was a present from his master, knowing it would enrage Sir Hector to see it on another. Wat was sure the captain would do for her.

“He was acting as servant to Sir Hector, so he was often in and out of the solar, fetching things from chests. That day, he went to the chest and there he found the girl. I suppose he must have been confused at first, staring down at her and wondering what she was doing there, but I imagine he quickly thought that his master had put her there for some reason. It was a heaven-sent opportunity. Sir Hector had not killed her – but everyone would think he had! Just to make sure, Wat was prepared to spread the story of how angry Sir Hector would have been to find his dress on another woman. So he stabbed her, and slammed the lid down.”