The Brat Page 0,67

greener pastures. Or more money, as the case may be. They deserved to be aware of what was going on.

"Aye, someone tried to kill my husband twice between court and Castle Reynard," she announced, then waited for the sudden murmuring of those around her to quiet. "Someone put a thistle on his horse's back, under his saddle, so that when he mounted and put weight on it the stallion reared and ran off with him. Fortunately, Lord Reynard gave chase and managed to catch up to the panicked animal, and my husband was able to leap from his mount to Reynard's."

"Oh, my lady, his lordship could have been killed!" Thibault said with distress.

"I do believe that was the whole point," Clement pointed out.

"And the second time was by poisoning?" Gatty asked.

"Aye." Murie grimaced. "I chose to make my husband's sup when we camped the second night. I skinned and dressed one of the rabbits the men brought back and roasted it over the fire."

"How did someone poison it if you are the one who prepared it?" Clement asked with arched eyebrows.

Murie glanced at him sharply, her eyes narrow. "I left it briefly while Reynard took Emilie and myself down to the river to clean up. When I returned, it was nearly finished, and it smelled so good I began to pick at the meat. We both fell ill not long after eating."

"Did no one see the culprit near the meat while you were gone?" one of the remaining soldiers asked.

"Emilie - Lady Reynard," she explained for those who did not know her friend, "told me that her husband did ask that night, but no one seemed to see anything."

The man nodded thoughtfully and asked, "And no one saw anyone near Lord Gaynor's horse on the morning it bolted?"

"Nay," Murie said; but she wondered if Balan had thought to ask. She hadn't thought of it herself until the soldier mentioned it just now, and she didn't recall her husband speaking to anyone. They had returned to camp, he'd tied his stallion to the back of the wagon and then mounted her mare and they had left. Of course, that did not mean that he hadn't asked later, but she did wonder if - in his rush to get them to Reynard - he'd not overlooked the necessary inquisition.

"You do not look sure," the man-at-arms pointed out. Murie shrugged and said apologetically, "I never thought to ask my husband. And I am not sure that he thought to ask around."

"He would have asked," the soldier assured her. "If he has not said anything, or confronted anyone, then no one was seen." Murie nodded and glanced around at the people surrounding her. "Obviously, we must keep an eye out for him." Everyone nodded.

"I was thinking about how to keep him safe on the ride from Reynard," she confessed. "And I do have some ideas."

"We will help," Gatty said solemnly. The others nodded.

"What ideas did you have?" Thibault asked eagerly. "Is there anything we can do tonight?"

"Naught but keep an eye on him," Murie said with a sigh, her gaze moving toward the keep doors. It had been late in the day when they arrived, the sun finally setting. It had still been light out as they rode up, but the gray light of coming dusk. Though, she acknowledged that could last a long time at this time of year, when the days were still longer than the nights. "But I shall need to find some things on the morrow and may need direction as to where to find them."

"Certainly, anything you need," Thibault said. Murie nodded. "We shall discuss it in the morn. In the meantime, it has been a long journey, and I daresay my husband and Osgoode would enjoy a meal of some sort when they return from speaking to ... Anselm, was it?"

"Aye," Gatty said.

"A meal is it?" Clement muttered bitterly. He nodded.

"Certainly. I can make fish stew, fishcakes, or fish roasted over the fire."

Murie bit her lip at this news. "I gather there is little but fish available?"

"There is nothing but fish available," Clement announced.

"Nothing?" Murie said with dismay.

"Nothing," the cook repeated. "It is fish to break our fast, at the nooning and at sup."

She shook her head with disbelief. "There must be something else, surely? A chicken that lays eggs? A bit of beef? Pork, even?"

"Nothing," he repeated.

"But... I mean I knew that Gaynor was short on people to bring in the harvest and so the ground went