Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

insisted.
    ‘And the answer is yes,’ Sir William replied. ‘My brother and I, we shared a special flask of wine.’
    ‘Who brought it?’
    ‘I — I don’t know. It was unstoppered by one of the servants.’
    ‘And you felt no ill effects before that?’
    ‘None.’
    ‘Who else was in the lodge?’
    ‘Seigneur de Craon, members of his household, our retainers. Oh, and Verlian as well as Brother Cosmas the priest at St Oswald’s. He came to deliver warnings.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘My brother was a harsh lord, Sir Hugh. He enforced the forest law with great vigour.’
    ‘Ah yes, I’ve heard of the steel traps laid out in the forest. Poachers who’ve had their ears cut and noses slit for the first offence then been hanged out of hand for the second.’
    ‘The lords of Savernake have the right of axe and tumbril.’
    ‘Not while I’m here!’ Corbett snapped. ‘But I’ll come to that in a moment. Do you realise what you are saying, Sir William? It would seem that someone tried to poison you and your brother. Everything becomes tangled,’ Corbett continued. ‘Some might even whisper that you were not ill though your brother was.’
    Sir William’s face suffused with rage.
    ‘What are you saying?’ His hand went to the dagger hanging from a ring on his belt.
    ‘Don’t touch it!’ Corbett warned. ‘Ranulf is of a quick disposition and may misunderstand you. Moreover, in these matters, Sir William, I must remind you that I represent the King. Look.’ Corbett sighed. ‘I merely point out what gossips might say. It would seem that someone did plot mischief against you at Beauclerc hunting lodge but facts can be twisted; people can jump to false conclusions.’
    ‘And if false conclusions can be drawn by you, Sir William,’ Ranulf intervened, ‘they can about Robert Verlian. All of Ashdown knows you hunted him through the forest, intent on his life.’
    Sir William swallowed hard. ‘He killed my brother. He fled.’
    ‘You have no proof,’ Corbett countered. ‘And while I am here, Sir William, such actions will cease forthwith. Anyway, we were talking about your whereabouts when your brother was killed.’
    ‘I went in the trees,’ Sir William blustered. ‘Quite a distance away. I undid my points, I relieved myself. When I came back my brother was dead.’
    ‘And you stayed and grieved?’
    ‘You know what I did! My brother had an arrow through his heart. He was dead, there was nothing I could do.’
    ‘So you took horse. You and your faithful retainers rode back to the manor leaving others to bring your brother’s corpse back?’
    ‘Lord Henry was dead,’ Sir William repeated. ‘It is well known, Sir Hugh, what happens when a manor lord dies suddenly. Servants turn to plundering and pilfering. Ashdown Manor houses many treasures. If you accept the courtesies of staying there you’d see that for yourself.’
    Corbett crouched down again to examine the stain on the ground.
    ‘I thank you for your courtesy, Sir William, but you know Seigneur de Craon resides with you. It would not be appropriate for us to share the same roof.’ He got to his feet and looked at the holes along the ground. ‘This is where the hunting palisade was erected?’
    ‘Yes, I’ve had it taken down.’
    But Corbett wasn’t listening. He was already striding across the dell. Ranulf looked and Sir William shrugged and they followed. On the far side Corbett was already pushing into the brambles. He drew his sword and hacked a path through. The forest stretched ahead of him. The great oaks, the bracken sprouting between. A place of shifting darkness. Shadows flittered and Corbett was sure that, if he were by himself, his mind would play tricks, these shapes become figures, soft and menacing. No wonder legends were rife about eerie forest creatures; the dell reminded him of the heavily wooded valleys in Wales and the dense forest of Sherwood . He repressed a shiver when he thought of the ambushes in which he had nearly died. The others came crashing behind him. Corbett gazed back across the clearing to where Lord Henry had stood.
    ‘The assassin must have had a good view,’ he observed.
    Corbett walked up and down. Sometimes the other side of the dell was hidden by overhanging branches and high stems of bracken but there were also clear views where a master bowman could stand, hidden in the shadows, and loose a shaft.
    ‘Ranulf,’ he ordered. ‘Go back to Lord Henry’s retainers. One of them must