A Head for Poisoning by Simon Beaufort Read Free Book Online Page B

something unimportant.”
    â€œI suppose that must be it,” said the King doubtfully. “Perhaps you will search the body for me, assuming that Sir Geoffrey has not done so already?”
    Geoffrey shook his head. “Aumary only ever seemed to be concerned about the dispatches in his pouch. I assumed they were all he had—he told me they were of vital importance.”
    The King smiled. “The more important the messages, the better paid the messenger,” he said wryly. “But what of this attack on you? Was Aumary the only fatality?”
    Geoffrey nodded. “Unless you include one of my horses. This was the arrow that killed Aumary.” He held the bloodstained arrow out to the King, who inspected it minutely, but declined to take it in his own hands.
    â€œI see,” said the King after a while. “All very intriguing. Did you see your assailants?”
    â€œI saw no archers,” replied Geoffrey ambiguously, aware of the anxiety of Caerdig behind him.
    â€œThere is a Godric Mappestone who owns the manor of Goodrich and several other profitable estates to the north of the Forest of Dene,” said the King, his eyes straying back to the arrow in Geoffrey’s hands. “Is he a relative of yours?”
    â€œMy father.”
    â€œI see,” said the King again. He looked Geoffrey up and down. “Your surcoat proclaims that you have been crusading, like my brother, the Duke of Normandy. I take it you have returned to England to claim any inheritance your father might leave you?”
    Geoffrey shook his head. “I am not his heir, my lord. I have three older brothers to claim precedence. I have come only to pay my respects, and then I will be on my way again.”
    â€œBack to the Holy Land?”
    Geoffrey nodded.
    â€œI was a fourth son, you know,” the King mused, regarding Geoffrey with half-closed eyes. “And now I am King of England. You should not underestimate your chances of inheritance, Sir Geoffrey. You never know what fate might hold in store for you.”
    â€œBut I do not want Goodrich,” said Geoffrey, more forcefully that he had intended. “Even if it did fall to me, I would decline it. I do not want to be a landlord.”
    â€œRash,” said the King, pursing his lips in disapproval. “You do not know what my wishes are in this matter, and I am your King.”
    Geoffrey did not imagine that the King could possibly be remotely interested in who was lord of the manor at Goodrich, but knew better than to say so. The King stroked his thick beard thoughtfully for a moment, and then gave what Geoffrey could only describe as a predatory smile.
    â€œI am glad to have made your acquaintance, as it happens, Sir Geoffrey,” he said. “There is something I would like you to do for me.”

    Reluctantly, Geoffrey followed the King into an antechamber just off the hall. An energetic fire blazed in the hearth, enjoyed by a selection of sleek and smelly dogs. The King nudged a few out of the way with the toe of his boot, and turned to face Geoffrey, drawing him nearer to the fire so that they would not be overheard.
    At the calculating gleam in the King’s grey eyes, Geoffrey’s stomach lurched, and he almost hauled his arm away. Not again! he thought, with sudden despair. He had left the Holy Land and its squabbling rulers at least in part because he did not want to be dragged into their intrigues and plots, and here he was, not even home, and he was being recruited by no less than the King of England for some task that he was certain he would not wish to undertake.
    â€œI see you do not appreciate the honour that is being bestowed upon you,” said the King dryly, sensing Geoffrey’s unease. “Do you not want to be of use to your King?”
    Geoffrey did not, but there was no way he could say so and still be free to leave—at least, not with all of him still present and functional. He