The Bloodstained Throne Read Free

edged much closer.
    ‘No!’ howled Bale, whipping around suddenly, knife in hand. ‘Get away!’
    By the time Geoffrey reached his companions, the hapless villager was staggering to safety, trailing blood behind him. The other villagers, clutching a haphazard array of cudgels and pikes, watched tensely, ready to flee if anyone should give chase.
    ‘That will warn them to keep their distance,’ said Roger, watching Bale wipe the blood from his blade with a handful of seaweed.
    ‘It will warn them to be careful,’ countered Geoffrey. ‘The fellow in the green hat is now even closer – so is that large man by him. Fingar will be in trouble tonight if he does not post guards.’
    ‘There is still no sign of our fellow passengers,’ said Roger, again scanning the turbulent sea. ‘I can only see crew.’
    ‘What a pity Lucian is dead,’ said Ulfrith with undisguised malice. Normally affable, Ulfrith had taken strongly against Lucian, whose courtly manners had made him feel gauche and loutish in front of Lady Philippa. He heaved a melancholy sigh. ‘Poor ladies! They were so lovely. I cannot imagine why either married Vitalis. He was old enough to be their grandfather.’
    ‘Perhaps he was their grandfather,’ suggested Bale. ‘I did not see him demanding his conjugal rights the whole time we were aboard.’
    Carefully, he began to pack away the ink pots, pens and parchment that had been in the bag Geoffrey had saved, although his disapproving expression indicated he thought his master should have taken the other one – containing clothes and a small store of gold coins.
    ‘He was seasick,’ explained Ulfrith. ‘Although I suspect an hour or two with Philippa would have cured any sickness of mine .’
    ‘And I could have managed a bout with the other one – that Edith,’ said Roger salaciously. ‘She was a fine, strapping wench, with plenty of meat for a man to—’
    ‘There is Juhel!’ exclaimed Geoffrey, pointing suddenly along the beach.
    ‘So it is,’ said Ulfrith, squinting. ‘An undertow must have pulled him away from the rest of us. He is lucky – few men live once undertows get them.’
    Bale stood to wave and catch the parchmenter’s attention. ‘He has the cage that held his pet chicken, although I cannot imagine the bird is in it.’
    Geoffrey glanced down at his dog, glad it had survived, but thinking again with sadness about his horse. He wondered if Patrick had floundered because Fingar’s greed had led him to pile her with more cargo than was safe, or if she had simply been poorly loaded.
    Juhel arrived, breathlessly relating his brush with death. He was stocky, with a wide, smiling mouth and prominent eyes reminiscent of a frog. Geoffrey wavered between liking him for his readiness to laugh and distrusting him because he had caught him out in several lies. The knight was amused to note that not only was the chicken in the cage but it was alive, albeit bedraggled.
    Geoffrey tuned out the parchmenter’s gabbling and stared pensively across the heaving waves. Another casket, badly smashed and with its lid missing, rolled on to the shingle, where it was seized by crewmen. He looked up at the sky, gauging how much daylight was left. A glance behind showed that the villagers were inching forward again, all clutching weapons. Was there time for him and his companions to reach a friendly settlement with them before dark? And how easy would it be to find another ship that was eastward-bound? He realized he must have spoken aloud, because the others were gazing at him aghast.
    ‘You intend to try again?’ whispered Ulfrith. ‘After we narrowly escaped with our lives? God is telling us not to travel east, and only a fool would disobey His wishes!’
    ‘Only a fool would have gone in the first place,’ muttered Roger. ‘And we are bigger fools for going with him.’
    ‘Then stay,’ said Geoffrey shortly. There were often violent storms in the English Channel, and he did not imagine for