Chapter Twenty
Salisbury was first aware of a hairless man standing in front of him when the man bowed and said something that William didn’t quite catch.
With all of the noise from the minstrels and the crowd of diners, he hadn’t been able to hear what the man said.
Moreover, Victor was speaking about the fine and ornate crypt he believed that Roger should have, so with all of the ambient noise, William hadn’t heard what the hairless man had said.
He politely begged off of Victor as he looked to the man standing before him.
“What is it that you want?” he asked.
The bald man smiled thinly. “My apologies, my lord,” he said in a very heavy French accent. “I do not mean to interrupt your conversation, but it is imperative I speak with you on a matter of great importance.”
William was impatient with a man he didn’t know. Given his wealth and status, he often had men soliciting money for one reason or another. “It will have to wait,” he said, returning his attention to Victor. “I am much too occupied at the moment.”
He tried to brush the man off but the hairless man would not leave. In fact, he spoke louder. “It is about your son, my lord.”
That subject grabbed William’s attention. “Which son?”
“The dead one, my lord.”
By now, Victor was listening. He leaned forward, entering the conversation. “What do you have to say about him?” he demanded. “How dare you approach his grieving father. Get out of here before I have you removed.”
The bald stranger put up his hands in a supplicating gesture. “Please, my lords,” he said. “I have not come to offend. I know who killed the Salisbury heir. I have come to tell you.”
In spite of William and Victor’s initial reservation, the hairless man had their full attention now. William, torn with the emotions such a statement naturally brought about, scowled.
“What madness is this?” he hissed. “Who are you? Tell me your name immediately.”
The hairless man bowed. “I am Sir Piers de Evereux,” he introduced himself, his gaze moving back and forth between William and Victor.
“My cousin is Matheiu de Clemont, commander of the Templar order in Jerusalem. I served under him alongside Sir Kevin Hage, Sir Adonis de Norville, and Sir Thomas de Wolfe.”
It was clear that his statement gave him a small measure of credibility in the eyes of William and Victor, but still, there was suspicion. “How do we know what you say is true?” Victor asked. “Should we have Hage identify you?”
Piers nodded. “You may indeed, my lord,” he said.
“But let me tell you what I know before you summon him. His confirmation of my identity may come at the end, if you will allow. I swear that what I am about to tell you is God’s given truth and it involves Hage, so if you have him identify me now, you may never know who killed the Salisbury heir. ”
Victor’s brow furrowed, looking to William in confusion.
They had no idea what the man was speaking of, or why Kevin Hage had even entered into the conversation as he had.
What in the world could Hage have to do with Roger’s death?
William, however, having just lost his son, was more than eager to hear from a man who said he knew who had killed Roger.
It was foolish, and he knew it, but he was eager just the same.
“Very well,” William finally said. “I am listening. Tell me what you know.”
Piers had one chance to tell the story and he wasn’t going to waste it; he fully intended to play upon the grief of the father in order to see Hage ruined.
His chance to attain his ultimate victory had arrived and he grabbed the opportunity full-bore, so much so that he wasn’t even delicate about it.
He delivered the news to William with all of the subtlety of a thunder clap.
“Your son was murdered in Dover, my lord,” he said to William. “I saw Kevin Hage murder him.”
There was a very big, pregnant pause before Victor’s eyebrows flew up in outrage and shock. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.
“Lies!” he hissed. “Get out of my sight before I turn Hage loose on you!”
Piers fixed his gaze on him. “I can prove it, my lord,” he insisted.
“First, you will bring de Norville and de Wolfe to me. Ask them to confirm my identity. Once they do, you will ask them if they saw Kevin Hage murder the Salisbury heir. Have them swear it upon their oaths as knights that they did not see Hage murder the young man. Being that they are honorable knights, they cannot deny it. They will confirm that Hage did indeed kill the Salisbury heir.”
It was shocking information at the very least, an absolutely stunning revelation.
Victor was enraged but there was part of him that was also coming to understand that this stranger might, in fact, be somewhat correct.
Pieces of a puzzle over the past few days were starting to come together and form a picture that was making sense.
Hage was in Dover when Roger had been there; Hage had confirmed that detail.
That fact put Hage at the site of the murder.
Dear God… was it conceivable? In horror, Victor looked at William.
“Hage was in Dover when Roger was killed,” he breathed, overwhelmed with the possibilities. “I asked him if he was in Dover when your son was killed and he said that he was. He was!”
William was as astonished as Victor was. Quickly, he snapped his fingers at Gorsedd, who was down at the far end of the table and had not heard any of the conversation. As Gorsedd came towards him, William waved a hand at him, almost frantically.
“Find de Norville and de Wolfe!” he demanded. “Send them to me immediately!”
Puzzled at his lord’s wild-eyed expression, but always compliant, Gorsedd went in search of the Dorset knights. As he stalked off across the room, Piers turned to the stunned men before him.
“You must understand, my lords, that Kevin Hage is a killer,” he said quietly.
“I spent six years in the Levant with the man and I have seen what his is capable of. There is no man on earth that can match his cunning or his skill. He killed my cousin, in fact, and that is why I have been sent by de Clemont to bring Hage to him for punishment. I have tracked Kevin Hage for months and now I have finally caught up to him. Do not be surprised that he killed your son, Lord Salisbury; killing is all he knows.”
Victor was still having a difficult time processing the information.
He put his hand to his forehead and turned away, struggling with the very real fact that Roger’s killer may have been under his nose the entire time.
He was trying not to feel like a fool but the more he thought about it, the more enraged he became.
He downed two cups of fine wine in short order, pouring himself a third as Gorsedd, with Thomas and Adonis in tow, eventually approached the table.
As soon as the men came close, Victor pointed to de Evereux.
“Look at this man,” he demanded. “Do you know him?”
Adonis and Thomas were a bit taken aback by Victor’s shouting tone. They peered at the hairless man a moment but no recognition dawned until Piers spoke.
“Salutations,” he said to them. “Do you not recognize me? It is de Evereux.”
Immediately, Adonis and Thomas were struck with the identification of the man who had been a fairly nasty and sly assassin under de Clemont’s command.
They had no idea how the man had arrived here, at this place and time, but they knew given the sheer reputation of the man that his presence could not be good.
While both Adonis and Thomas knew Piers was in Longcross, they certainly didn’t expect him to make an appearance at the feast. He had been hated by nearly everyone who knew him.
Adonis went so far as to reach out and grab de Evereux by the tunic.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
Piers put up his hands to show he had no weapon and had no intention of fighting back. “So you do recognize me, my friend,” he said, gratification in his tone. “That is good. I told our good lords that you would. Thank you for confirming my truth.”
Adonis scowled. “Your truth?” he repeated. Puzzled, enraged, he looked at Victor. “My lord, this man is a thief and a murderer. I do not know why he is here but please allow me to remove him. He is not worthy of your presence.”
Victor was pale with rage and confusion. He spoke because William didn’t seem to be able to given the volatility of the subject.
“Mayhap I will,” Victor said, “after you answer a question for me. This is for both you and de Wolfe, so listen carefully – on your oath as a knight, you will both swear something to me.”
Adonis nodded firmly. “Anything, my lord.”
Victor fixed Adonis in the eye with a glare that would have toppled God himself from his throne. “You will swear to me that Kevin Hage did not kill Roger Longespee, Viscount Twyford. If Hage is not guilty, swear this to me instantly.”
Adonis visibly flinched, as if an unseen hand had suddenly slapped him in the face.
He stared at Victor, processing the question, hoping he hadn’t heard correctly.
But he realized that there was no mistaking what he had been asked and his mind went foggy, shocked beyond measure at what he was hearing.
He wondered wildly how Victor had heard such a thing but he knew, without a doubt, that de Evereux had something to do with it. There was no doubt in his mind.
But the question was – how did de Evereux know? God’s Blood, so many thoughts were whirling through Adonis’ mind at the moment. But mostly, he was starting to panic. He could not implicate his friend but he also could not deny the question. He had been asked to swear upon his oath.
… upon his oath!
“God’s Blood,” Adonis hissed. “Where did you hear this?”
Victor slammed his fists on the table, rattling the cups around him. “Deny it!” he bellowed. “Deny that Hage had anything to do with Roger’s murder on your oath! Tell me!”