A Mortal Bane(115)

Bell grunted. “Even if he was not welcome, surely you did not need to knock the man unconscious.”

“Did I not?” Magdalene explained what had happened.

“I see,” Bell said, his voice thick with controlled anger. “So he knew about Baldassare and the pouch. From whom? And what master?”

[page]“He gave no name, but he carries a badge in his purse, a cinquefoil attached to a red-and-white ribbon.”

“Beaufort!” Bell exclaimed instantly, and his teeth snapped shut. Then he said, “He must have come from Hugh le Poer, who is at the Tower of Montfichet.”

“No, not from Montfichet. Did you not see how travel-stained his clothing is? And his horse was dusty and very tired. He had come a long way, not from just across the river in London.” Magdalene drew a deep breath. “If that cinquefoil on a red-and-white ribbon is the badge of Beaufort, I think he came from Waleran de Meulan in Nottingham.”

“From Meulan?” Bell echoed. “But how is that possible? Nottingham is over four days’ travel. The murder was not discovered until Thursday morning. Why, the bishop did not even hear of it until Friday.”

“But you told me the sacristan had sent his man to the abbot on Thursday morning. Could he have been told to stop at Montfichet? A message could have been sent from there. And this man said a friend in Winchester’s Household had told him to come here. Could the bishop have spoken of the murder to anyone after we were gone?”

“I do not like this.” Bell bit his lip. “You told the bishop that Baldassare gave you his name, so you knew that, but you did not know he was a papal messenger until the bishop mentioned it. No one at all in the priory should have known until I identified him.”

“Except for the murderer,” Magdalene said. “He would have known.”

“Even so, even if the murderer sent a messenger at once, or the messenger was sent from Montfichet, there still would not be time enough for the messenger to get to Nottingham and this man to have come here.”

“Yes there would,” Magdalene said, “if the messenger had stopping places where he could change horses. William has arrangements like that.”

“I suppose if he changed horses—two and a half or three days. Yes, that could be done. But why go to such effort? Could we have been mistaken? Could there have been something more important in the pouch than the confirmation of Stephen’s right and possibly the bull of legatine power?”

“I have no idea.” Magdalene shivered. “I do not even want to know.”

“And what are we to do with him? You cannot simply toss him out into the street. If he is Waleran’s man, he will come back with friends and burn you out…or worse. I could kill him, I suppose, but….”

“Oh, no, that is no problem at all. I am going to take him to William.”

There was some argument about that, but it did not last long since Bell’s objection was really only that he did not like the contact between Magdalene and Ypres. Magdalene’s arguments were a good deal more cogent. William was best suited for extracting whatever information the man carried and disposing of him, whether back to his master or into oblivion. Nor would the fact that Magdalene had brought him to William betray any information to others. It was well known that William was her protector and natural that he should settle with any troublemakers in her house.

Having accepted her arguments, albeit ungraciously, Bell said he would get a cart to carry the man. To transport a man tied to the saddle of a destrier would draw too much notice, he said over his shoulder as he mounted his own horse, which he had left saddled.