The Pillars Of The Earth Page 0,453

his head.

Fortunately the village was deserted: the peasants had fled, not waiting to see William's wrath. The miller and his wife had also vanished, of course. The outlaws had taken all the knights' horses, leaving only the two carts and their oxen.

William looked at Walter. "Did you see who that was, that last one?"

"Yes."

Walter was in the habit of using as few words as possible when his master was in a rage.

William said: "It was Richard of Kingsbridge."

Walter nodded.

"And they called him the rightful earl," William finished.

Walter said nothing.

William went back through the house and into the mill.

Hugh was sitting up, his left hand pressed to his right shoulder. He looked pale.

William said: "How does it feel?"

"This is nothing," Hugh said. "Who were those people?"

"Outlaws," William said shortly. He looked around. There were seven or eight outlaws lying dead or wounded on the floor. He spotted Louis flat on his back with his eyes open. At first he thought the man was dead; then Louis blinked.

William said: "Louis."

Louis raised his head, but he looked confused. He had not yet recovered.

William said: "Hugh, help Louis into one of the carts. Walter, put Guillaume's body into the other." He left them to it and went outside.

None of the villagers would have horses, but the miller did, a dappled cob grazing the sparse grass on the riverbank. William found the miller's saddle and put it on the cob.

A little while later he rode away from Cowford with Walter and Gervase driving the ox carts.

His fury did not abate on the journey to Bishop Waleran's castle. In fact, as he brooded over what he had learned he got angrier. It was bad enough that the outlaws had been able to defy him; it was worse that they were led by his old enemy Richard; and it was intolerable that they should call Richard the rightful earl. If they were not put down decisively, very soon Richard would use them to launch a direct attack on William. It would be totally illegal for Richard to take over the earldom that way, of course; but William had a feeling that complaints of illegal attack, coming from him, might not get a sympathetic hearing. The fact that William had been ambushed, overcome by outlaws, and robbed, and that the whole county would shortly be laughing at his humiliation, was not the worst of his problems. Suddenly his hold over his earldom was seriously threatened.

He had to kill Richard, of course. The question was how to find him. He brooded over the problem all the way to the castle; and by the time he arrived he had figured out that Bishop Waleran probably held the key.

They rode into Waleran's castle like a comic procession at a fair, the earl on a dappled cob and his knights driving ox carts. William roared peremptory orders at the bishop's men, sending one to fetch an infirmarer for Hugh and Louis and another to get a priest to pray for the soul of Guillaume. Gervase and Walter went to the kitchen for beer, and William entered the keep and was admitted to Waleran's private quarters. William hated to have to ask Waleran for anything, but he needed Waleran's help in locating Richard.

The bishop was reading an accounts roll, an endless list of numbers. He looked up and saw the rage on William's face. "What happened?" he said, in a tone of mild amusement that always infuriated William.

William gritted his teeth. "I've discovered who is organizing and leading these damned outlaws."

Waleran raised an eyebrow.

"It's Richard of Kingsbridge."

"Ah." Waleran nodded understanding. "Of course. It makes sense."

"It makes danger," William said angrily. He hated it when Waleran was cool and reflective about things. "They call him 'the rightful earl.' " He pointed a finger at Waleran. "You certainly don't want that family back in charge of this earldom-they hate you, and they're friends with Prior Philip, your old enemy."

"All right, calm down," Waleran said condescendingly. "You're quite right, I can't have Richard of Kingsbridge taking over the earldom."

William sat down. His body was beginning to ache. These days he felt the aftereffects of a fight in a way he never used to. He had strained muscles, sore hands, and bruises where he had been struck or had fallen. I'm only thirty-seven, he thought; is this when old age begins? He said: "I have to kill Richard. Once he's gone, the outlaws will degenerate into a helpless rabble."

"I agree."

"Killing him will be easy. The problem is