Free Whited Sepulchres by C B Hanley Page B

Sunday and my lord has guests.’
    Edwin nodded. Richard Cook would want to produce something worthy of the company, so that made sense.
    Adam continued. ‘Cook needed some spice or other, so he sent one of his men to the steward’s office to get it. The fellow went there and found Hamo lying dead on the floor. He ran to get the guard, and the guard fetched Sir Geoffrey. I was already up because I’d remembered that I hadn’t polished my lord’s saddle, which I meant to do last night. So I thought I’d get up early this morning and do it. When Sir Geoffrey saw me he sent me to get you. I haven’t seen the body – all I know is that he’s dead.’
    By this time they were entering the castle gates, and Adam slowed his pace. ‘I don’t think I want to …’
    Edwin understood. ‘I can find my own way there. You’d better go and get back to your saddle.’
    He turned towards the stables. There were lights over there, and a party of armed men was already assembling, leading their horses out of the building, checking their harnesses and mounting. ‘What’s going on?’ Edwin asked.
    ‘It’s another patrol going out to search the area for those outlaws. They haven’t been caught yet and Sir Geoffrey is … well, he’s not pleased, let’s put it that way.’
    They both stood as the men rode past them, mail jingling and the horses’ breath steaming in the early morning air. Then Adam touched Edwin’s arm in farewell and headed towards the stable, while Edwin walked up to the torchlit inner gatehouse. At least he could spare the boy the sight which was about to greet him. The night porter, yawning at the end of his shift, waved him through, and he crossed the ward, entered the hall and moved towards the service area at the back.
    He had to push his way through a few curious onlookers, but two guards were keeping people away from the office itself. They parted to let him in, and he stepped inside.
    Sir Geoffrey was striding up and down, but he stopped as Edwin entered. ‘You’re here. Good. What kept you?’
    Edwin opened his mouth.
    ‘Well, never mind that, anyway. Tell me what you think.’ The knight gestured to the body on the floor. It was lying in the corner of the room furthest away from the door, which was why Edwin hadn’t seen it to start with. It was very dark in there, even with three of Sir Geoffrey’s men standing around holding spitting torches. Screwing up his eyes to avoid having to look at anything horrible, he edged his way over and looked down.
    Well, there was no blood for a start, but there was a horrendous smell. Edwin opened his eyes properly and squinted in the poor light. Hamo was contorted and stiff, hands clawed, a grimace on his face, eyes open and staring. At first Edwin thought they were moving, and crossed himself to ward off evil, but it was just the reflection of the flames from the torches. He looked around. A stool was on its side near him. The smell was coming from the vomit which was all over the front of Hamo’s tunic and sprayed around him on the floor, and which was making Edwin start to feel queasy. It seemed fairly obvious that Hamo had eaten something which didn’t agree with him, especially given that the remains of a meal lay scattered on the floor, an upturned bowl and wine cup spreading their contents across the flagstones. Edwin tried to contain his bile as he crouched to get a closer look. Maybe if he concentrated on working out what had happened it would take his mind off his stomach.
    Yes, Hamo would have sat down to eat, probably after everyone else had finished, as Edwin had suspected last night. He’d brought some food in here, sat down at the table where it was clear, and started. Something in it had choked him? But would he have retched up so much if that had happened? Wouldn’t it just have stuck in his throat? Edwin certainly wasn’t about to get that close to the body to have a look. No, more likely there was something in the food which had