Free Deadly Inheritance by Simon Beaufort

their affair, but said instead, ‘An old friend invited me.’
    Jervil turned to Torva in agitation. ‘He is going to talk to Lord Baderon about Henry. And the Constable and his daughter and God knows who else. Will there be no end to this business?’
    ‘Seguin is a violent man,’ said Torva. ‘You would do well to stay well clear of him and his brother Lambert. And Baderon, for that matter.’
    ‘They are not at Dene,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I met them yesterday in Llan Martin. They—’
    ‘Baderon and his henchmen are at Dene,’ insisted Jervil. ‘For a week’s hunting. So do not try to mislead us.’
    ‘Here!’ snapped Bale, emerging from the stables with Geoffrey’s horse. ‘Watch your mouth. No one talks to him like that when I am here.’
    ‘I am not trying to mislead anyone,’ replied Geoffrey, stepping forward to prevent Bale from making good his threat. ‘However, I will find out what happened to Henry, no matter what it takes – and if that means talking to Baderon, Seguin and Lambert if I happen across them, then so be it.’
    Torva indicated with a jerk of his head that Jervil and Bale were to leave them alone. Bale went to saddle his own horse, while Jervil, scowling, walked Geoffrey’s stallion a short distance away.
    ‘I am sorry if we seem rude,’ Torva began in a conciliatory voice. ‘But it really is better if you let Henry’s death lie.’
    ‘Better for whom?’ asked Geoffrey archly. ‘The killer?’
    ‘For all of us, including your sister. Henry was always vicious, but in the months before his death, he grew beyond control. He broke Sir Olivier’s arm, and beat a shepherd so badly that he died. He prowled the countryside picking fights, and it was only because Lady Joan is so respected that Goodrich was not razed to the ground.’
    Geoffrey was not sure whether to believe him. ‘What precipitated Henry’s sudden wildness?’
    ‘Lady Joan made some wise investments, and Goodrich’s fortunes soared. It meant there was money for luxuries like wine. Henry could not keep from drinking. He started the moment he woke, and he continued until he slept.’
    ‘Did no one stop him? For his own good?’
    ‘Olivier tried – and had his arm snapped for his troubles. Joan locked Henry in the cellar for a week, hoping that forcing him to become sober would make him see the error of his ways. But he threatened to get a message to the King, and Joan did not want to attract royal attention. She was afraid the King might demand some favour from you, as payment for overlooking an unlawful imprisonment. From what I have heard, it was not an unreasonable fear.’
    Geoffrey supposed it was not. ‘Then what happened?’
    ‘Henry was worse than ever. Ask anyone – they will all tell you the same.’
    ‘And that is why you want me to forget his murder? Because you think I will learn that someone here killed him? Jervil, for example.’
    ‘Jervil did not kill him,’ said Torva with absolute certainty. ‘He heard the scuffle, although he will never admit it to you. But he saw nothing.’
    ‘How do you know Jervil is not the killer?’
    ‘Because of the Black Knife that killed Henry,’ replied Torva. ‘It had a ruby in its hilt. Jervil could never afford such a valuable thing – and if he had, he would not have left it in a murdered corpse for everyone to identify. Jervil has light fingers where valuables are concerned, and nothing would have induced him to leave such a fine dagger in Henry.’
    ‘Whose was it, then?’
    ‘We do not know. But it belonged to a wealthy man, not a groom.’
    ‘FitzNorman?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Or Baderon?’
    ‘Not Baderon,’ replied Torva, again sounding certain. ‘But Seguin and Lambert are a dangerous pair. Baderon does not have them under his control, as he should vassal knights. I am not saying they are the killers, but they were the first ones who came into our minds when we saw the dagger.’
    ‘Where is this dagger now?’
    ‘Joan took it,’