Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

called.
    He was standing by one of the oaks further away. Corbett hurried across. Ranulf was sifting the dirt in the palms of his hands. Corbett glimpsed the small tassels of leather, the thin grey goose feather. He picked these up, scrutinised them and moved into the hollow trunk where Ranulf had found them but could discover no further traces. He put what they had found into his pouch.
    ‘We know this was no accident,’ he declared. ‘And this is where the assassin hid. I think he came here early in the morning, even the day before, and hid a bow and quiver. The feather and tassel are from these. He then came back and hid in one of these hollowed trunks, making sure Lord Henry was in Savernake Dell and this side of the wood was deserted.’
    Corbett walked to where he calculated the assassin must have taken aim, counting under his breath all the time.
    ‘A very short while!’ he shouted. ‘The assassin Would then hasten back, the bow and quiver are Placed back in one of the hollow oaks and then he’d §o looking for his horse.’
    Ranulf had already anticipated this and was deep the trees, kicking at the carpet of fallen leaves.
    ‘Sir Hugh! Sir William! Over here!’
    Ranulf pushed away the leaves with his dagger, revealing scattered horse dung.
    ‘He tethered his horse to a tree,’ Ranulf explained. ‘Probably bridled, the hooves may have been covered in rags.’ He cut a piece of the dung with his dagger. ‘He even had time to cover this.’
    ‘So we know how,’ Corbett concluded. ‘But who or why?’



Chapter 4

    Corbett sat on a fallen tree trunk and gestured at Sir William to join him.
    ‘How many people wanted your brother killed?’ he asked.
    ‘Lord Henry was a law unto himself, Sir Hugh. Our family own vast estates. We have an ancient name. He was much favoured by the King, a nobleman who travelled to Italy , Sicily , Northern Spain and France .’
    ‘So have many people,’ Corbett replied. ‘But that doesn’t make people want to murder them in a lonely dell on a lovely autumn afternoon. Sir William, I would be grateful if you would answer my questions as bluntly and honestly as possible. You know, I know, we all know there’s more to this than meets the eye.’
    ‘The physician and my retainers are waiting.’ Sir William’s voice was tinged with complaint.
    ‘Ranulf,’ Corbett ordered. ‘Tell Sir William’s men that they can either stay or go back to the manor.’
    ‘Tell them to stay!’ Sir William snapped.
    ‘Good.’ Corbett sighed. ‘Now, Sir William, your brother?’
    ‘He was hated by Robert Verlian, his chief verderer.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘He lusted after Verlian’s daughter, Alicia. A beautiful young woman, it’s hard to imagine Verlian having a daughter like that. Lord Henry said she had a face like an angel. He was used to having his way with wenches.’
    ‘And Alicia resisted?’
    ‘She despised my brother.’
    ‘And Verlian himself?’
    ‘At first he was the loyal retainer but even a worm will turn. On one occasion, the Verlians threatened to kill Lord Henry if he didn’t desist in his wanton lechery.’
    ‘So, that’s why you suspected your chief verderer?’
    ‘Yes. Verlian’s also a master bowman and he was not with the hunting party.’
    ‘So, where could he have been?’
    ‘It’s possible,’ Sir William looked shamefaced, ‘that Verlian stayed behind the hunters as they drove the deer into Savernake Dell. After all, that was his responsibility.’
    ‘But you think he may have gone ahead, seized his concealed bow, killed your brother and fled?’
    Sir William picked up the corner of his cloak and dug with a dirty nail at the golden arrowhead stitching. He was about to answer when Ranulf came crashing back through the undergrowth.
    ‘Your men wait, Sir William!’ he called.
    Corbett’s manservant sat down with his back to a tree, stretching out his legs. With his dagger he began to whittle away at a branch, humming softly under his breath.
    ‘You do think Verlian killed your brother?’
    ‘Sir Hugh, he had good reason and he had the means.’
    ‘But it isn’t logical, is it?’ Corbett demanded. ‘Verlian is a Sussex man who holds profitable office. He has a daughter; he must have known that murder of his lord would bring summary execution.’
    ‘A man can do anything, Sir Hugh, when his blood is heated and his wits disturbed.’
    ‘But Verlian, and I know I can ask him, was no rash fool. A chief verderer is a man of patience, of