A Head for Poisoning by Simon Beaufort Read Free Book Online

of the River Wye. Cliffs rose sheer from the water, culminating in a powerful curtain wall, behind which stood the massive rectangular stone keep itself. Geoffrey and his companions skirted the encircling wall on the side opposite the cliffs, aware that their progress was watched keenly by look-outs posted along its whole length. Trees had been felled and houses removed, so that no one could approach the castle from any direction without being seen—except for the cliffs, of course, and it would be a doomed and foolish invader who risked climbing those.
    Eventually, they reached the main entrance, where there were guards in the gatehouse at ground level, as well as archers housed in the wooden gallery that ran along the top of the curtain wall. The duty sergeant heard Geoffrey’s business, and then escorted them into the courtyard. As he dismounted and handed his reins to a stable boy, Geoffrey looked around him again, impressed. The keep stood in the middle of an elongated, triangular bailey. It was a formidable building, and a fine illustration of Norman strength and practicality, even though it lacked some of the refinements Geoffrey had seen in France. But decorations notwithstanding, Chepstow was a splendid fortress, and Geoffrey was not surprised that the King had favoured its constable with his presence for more than a month now.
    The duty sergeant found a stretcher, and they laid Sir Aumary on it, covering him with his fine cloak. While Ingram and Barlow struggled and groaned under the dead weight, Geoffrey led the way to the keep. There was a moment of panic when Aumary almost slid off the litter as he was carried up the steep wooden stairs—the entrance, like in all Norman castles, was on the second floor, reached by a flight of steps that could be removed at times of danger, presenting would-be invaders with yet one more obstacle to surmount—but Geoffrey’s timely lunge prevented an unfortunate incident.
    Henry, King of England and youngest son of William the Conqueror, had just returned from hunting in the southern reaches of the Forest of Dene. His face was flushed from the exercise and fresh air, and he was basking in the accolades of his fellow huntsmen for having brought down a great brown stag. The stag and several fallow deer were being displayed in the hall before they were whisked off to the kitchens to be used to feed the King’s sizeable household. Trestle tables laden with food lined one wall, so that the King and his men could stave off their immediate hunger until the regular meal was served later. Salivating helplessly, Geoffrey’s dog aimed for them. Geoffrey caught it by the scruff of its neck, and told a squire to take it outside before it could indulge itself and have Geoffrey and his companions evicted from the King’s presence.
    The duty sergeant whispered something to another squire, who in turn went to the constable of the castle, the man who would decide whether Geoffrey’s business was of sufficient importance with which to disturb the King. Apparently, it was not, for the constable strode forward to greet them himself, leaving the King to enjoy the company of his sycophants. He bent over the litter that had been placed at the far end of the hall, and lifted the cloak to inspect Sir Aumary’s face.
    â€œI do not know this man,” he said. “He had dispatches for the King, you say?”
    Geoffrey handed over the pouch that had been hidden inside his surcoat. The constable opened it, and inspected the documents it held.
    â€œThe seal is that of Domfront,” he said, holding one upside down and revealing to Geoffrey that he was not a man of letters. “But I cannot imagine that these missives contain much of importance. Domfront is just a small castle in Normandy that our King is rather fond of. Was this Sir Aumary carrying anything else?”
    Geoffrey raised his hands in a shrug. “The pouch seemed to be the thing of greatest