Deadly Inheritance by Simon Beaufort Read Free Book Online

pinch.
    ‘Stop babbling in that infernal tongue,’ ordered Seguin testily. ‘I will have no Welsh spoken in my home once we are married.’
    ‘Geoffrey speaks it badly anyway,’ said Corwenna venomously. ‘It hurts the ears when it comes from the mouth of a Norman. There should be a law against it.’
    ‘Corwenna!’ exclaimed Caerdig, aghast. ‘That is no way to speak to an honoured guest!’
    ‘He is not an honoured guest,’ retorted Corwenna hotly. ‘He is Henry’s brother – the man who slaughtered our cattle, burnt our granaries and murdered Rhys.’
    Seguin roared with laughter, while his brother grinned. Both evidently considered Corwenna’s bold temper a fine thing. Geoffrey wondered how amusing Seguin would find Corwenna’s sour moods when they were directed against him, and suspected it would only be a matter of time before they fell out.
    The tension eased when Hywel returned with the wine, and measured it into wooden cups. Maliciously, Geoffrey hoped it was acidic enough to make the Normans and Corwenna sick, although he bore Caerdig no ill will. When everyone held a goblet, Caerdig spoke.
    ‘To future liaisons,’ he said ambiguously, and everyone other than Geoffrey upended their cups, only to spit the contents out again.
    ‘God in Heaven!’ exclaimed Baderon, gagging. ‘Is this what you drink in the Holy Land?’
    ‘No,’ replied Geoffrey. ‘That is saddle oil. Hywel used the wrong flask.’
    Corwenna rubbed her lips with a cloth. ‘Why did you wait until we had swallowed it? Are you trying to poison us?’
    ‘It was a mistake,’ said Caerdig, although he had noticed that Geoffrey had not touched his own cup.
    Seguin spat into the fire and then stood. ‘It is time to go home. It will be dark soon, and not even knights are immune from outlaws in Wales.’
    Caerdig followed his guests outside. ‘It will not be pleasant having such a man in the family,’ he whispered to Geoffrey, ‘but Corwenna likes him, and the cattle he brings will be useful.’
    ‘He is a bag of air,’ declared Geoffrey, also in Welsh. He refrained from adding that Seguin and Corwenna deserved each other.
    ‘He is, but everyone seems happy about the union. It is only I who has reservations. I wish she was marrying you instead.’
    Geoffrey did not, much as he liked Caerdig. He did not care whether marriage brought him riches, and did not even mind if his wife was plain – he would settle for one capable of intelligent conversation. However, he certainly did not want one who hated him.
    ‘God’s blood!’ exclaimed Seguin, stalking towards Geoffrey’s horse. ‘That is a deer! And you killed it with a sword.’
    ‘It was caught in a trap,’ explained Geoffrey.
    ‘Where?’ demanded Baderon, suddenly angry. ‘Where precisely ?’
    ‘In a clearing about three miles from here,’ said Geoffrey, wondering what was upsetting them. ‘It was on my land.’
    ‘How do you know ?’ demanded Baderon hotly. ‘You have been away for two decades. How can you know your boundaries when they twist and turn so tortuously?’
    Seguin took a step towards Geoffrey. ‘FitzNorman enforces forest law vigorously on the lands under his control, and we do the same for Lord Baderon. No one kills his venison. It is a hanging offence.’
    ‘It is as well the venison is mine, then,’ said Geoffrey mildly. ‘I found the trap on a hill just south of the river, and even someone who has been away for twenty years cannot be mistaken about which side of the river he is on. It was Goodrich land.’
    ‘Then I shall believe you,’ said Baderon. ‘But I will not suffer thieves on my land, no matter who they are.’
    Geoffrey would have preferred to travel alone, but Baderon offered to accompany him part way, and he did not want to appear churlish by declining.
    ‘What do you think?” asked Caerdig in a whisper, holding the reins of Geoffrey’s horse while he mounted. ‘Will Baderon be a trustworthy ally?’
    ‘God knows,’