Murder for Christ's Mass - By Maureen Ash Page 0,96
will kill him,” Simon warned. “And tell that other knight and your men to keep back. It is not my intent to die, but if I must, I will take this whoreson with me.”
“For the love of God,” Legerton cried in a strangled tone, “do as he says, I beg of you.”
Bascot motioned to de Laxton and the men-at-arms to move back a pace. Partager was wound up as tight as a crossbow ready to release its bolt. The Templar rapidly assessed the implications of the assayer’s statement. It would seem Partager’s wife had been playing the trollop with her husband’s employer and it had been the assayer, not Legerton, who had conspired with Cerlo to conceal the discovery of the trove, hoping to buy back his wife’s love with the proceeds. Now that the plan had gone awry, his jealousy and hatred of Legerton was gushing forth in full spate. He desperately wanted to kill the man who had made him a cuckold; only the fact it would require forfeit of his own life was keeping that primal urge at bay. If any of them made a move towards him, Bascot knew Partager would slice Legerton’s throat open without hesitation.
Once he saw that de Laxton and the men-at-arms had obeyed the Templar’s command, Partager roughly pushed the exchanger down the two shallow steps of the dais and onto the floor of the hall. Keeping a wary eye on the knights and soldiers, the assayer then dragged Legerton in the direction of the door, the knife still at his captive’s throat.
“If you value this miserable cur’s life, Templar, you and your men will stay here until I am well away from this accursed house. Once I am safe, I will release him.”
As Partager uttered his threat, Bascot caught a flash of movement among the crowd of servants and women cowering behind one of the trestle tables. It was Silvana. While the assayer’s attention was concentrated on the armed men in front of him, she darted forward and grabbed one of the heavy pewter salvers that lay on the table. Without a pause, and in one smooth motion, she swung it up in her arms and brought it crashing down on the back of his head.
Partager fell almost instantly, his eyes glazing over as he dropped to the floor. Legerton tumbled free and picked himself up, his hands clutching at the wound on his neck. Bascot quickly retrieved the knife and motioned for two of the men-at-arms to take hold of the assayer.
As they hauled the half-unconscious man to his feet, the Templar picked up the salver and handed it to Silvana.
“You may not believe you are competent to do a man’s work, mistress,” he said with a small smile, “but I think you are mistaken. You wielded that tray with the skill of a seasoned man-at-arms and with just as much courage. Your brother is a fortunate man to have a woman such as you for a sister.”
Thirty-two
IT WAS LATE IN THE EVENING BY THE TIME BASCOT and de Laxton returned to the castle with their prisoner. One of the soldiers in the escort was leading a palfrey laden with sacks containing a large quantity of coin and jewellery. When they arrived at Lincoln castle, Gerard Camville and Gilbert Bassett were waiting for them in the hall.
Once Simon Partager had been secured in a holding cell, the sheriff directed two men-at-arms to carry the sacks up to his chamber, and the barons, along with Bascot and de Laxton, followed them up the stairs. After the soldiers had completed their chore, Camville dismissed them and de Laxton opened one of the bags. It was packed with a quantity of smaller pouches, ten in all.
“We counted the coins in one of these,” he said to the sheriff, lifting out a bag and hefting it. “It contains five pounds and, judging by the weight, so do all the others. That means there is fifty pounds in each of the larger sacks, of which there are four—a sum of two hundred pounds in all—as well as a pouch containing various items of jewellery. Even if the coins do not each contain a full pennyweight of silver, this is a sizeable treasure trove, to be sure.”
As de Laxton removed the jewellery and laid it on a table, Bassett expelled his breath in amazement. There were at least five necklaces—comprised of heavy links of gold chain—and a half dozen brooches and cloak clasps of the same