Chapter Eight
Bronwyn tensed. Tristan, dead?
Heads turned toward the servant.
Empress Maud said, “You. Boy. What do you mean, he is dead?”
“Tell us what happened,” Bronwyn said, earning a sharp look from the empress.
The boy looked over his shoulder at a guard behind him, who said, “We went to his room to find him and conducted a search, Your Grace. His things were gone, his room was empty, and we couldn’t find hide nor hair of him. That’s when we looked down in the stables, and…found him.”
“No,” Lady Susanna said, her voice rising. “No. It cannot be.”
Alice took her hand. Lady Susanna looked at the boy and the guard, her chin trembling.
“The young man was beaten to death, Your Grace. He was attacked and I think one of the horses had taken fright. He’s been trampled in the stalls. One of the horses was out of its stall and scared. We had to calm it down.”
Lady Susanna emitted a small cry and hid her face in her hands.
Bronwyn said, “Let me see the body.”
That earned her some dirty looks. The guard looked at her, then at the empress, who waved her hand.
“Show her. I want this matter cleared up immediately.” She sighed.
“We will eat. We are at war and cannot forget that. There is an army outside these walls fighting to get in. We cannot allow ourselves to tear each other apart with filthy words and accusations.”
Bronwyn left, following the guard and the boy out of the main dining hall and through the corridors, out through the castle courtyard and into the stables.
The boy stood by the entrance and shifted his feet. “I don’t want to go in.”
“It’s all right, lad,” the guard said and turned to Bronwyn. “You’re a bit peculiar, aren’t you? A woman wanting to see a dead body? It’s strange. Not right. Boy, you can stay out here, but be near.”
The boy stood shyly by the door as Bronwyn and the guard went inside. A pair of grooms were there, and one asked, “You’ve come to see?”
“Show us where he is,” the guard said.
The first groom motioned for them to follow.
The stables were poorly lit, and the groom held a torch aloft, leading the way.
Together, they walked until they found the body.
The grooms stood back. “We were heading to dinner and didn’t think anything of it until we heard the cry.
The boy found us and we went to go see, then sent him to find you. ” He swallowed. “He’s there.”
Bronwyn and the guard peered down. A body lay face-down on the straw and muddied ground, outside the door to one of the narrow stalls.
She gasped. “Tristan?”
She didn’t expect him to answer. At the same time, she hadn’t expected this. Maybe he hadn’t been at fault, after all. But then what had he been doing here at this hour, when he’d known the empress had wanted him to report? Whom had he met, and where had they gone?
A dark-brown horse watched them, the torchlight shining in its jet-black eyes.
Bronwyn blinked. “Did you move him?”
“Yes. The horse was all disturbed, kicking and raising a fuss. He didn’t like it at all.”
“Quite right.” The guard shot an affectionate look toward the horse.
Bronwyn scratched her head. “Was the body lying like that when you found him?”
“Yes. He was in the stall with Sorel here.” The groom took a step back. The torchlight flickered in the musty space, playing shadows on his features. The man’s eyes were wide. “What do you think happened to him? Was it an accident?”
Bronwyn knelt close to the body. The groom grunted in distaste, and the guard said, “What are you doing there? Get up.”
“I’m looking to see what killed him.”
“The horse did,” the guard said. “It was an accident. He probably slipped in muck and hit his head, and that was it.”
Bronwyn motioned for the groom to bring the torch closer, and he handed it to her. She pointed at the body. “If that’s true, then why is there no blood on his head? Or muck?”
“He probably got hit somewhere else,” the man said.
Bronwyn didn’t like that explanation and shook her head.
“It was an accident, girl. Don’t go gossiping and creating rumors out of nothing. Don’t know why you’re here at all.”
“I work for the empress.” She touched Tristan’s neck. “He’s still warm. This must have just happened.”
The groom shivered.
The body was covered in blood. It didn’t make sense. Bronwyn stared down at it.
“Was he cut? Did someone stab him?” the groom asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bronwyn said.
“Oh, I’m telling you, girl, it was likely an accident. He probably had too much to drink, slipped, and fell. It happens all the time.”
Bronwyn handed the torch back to the groom. She stood on her tiptoes and peeked over the stall door. “Can you shine the light here?”
“All right.” The groom came closer. “What are you looking for?”
“Blood. If he did hit his head, there should be a sign of it.” She peered over the edge. The horse, Sorel, watched her and backed up, stomping and stepping on the straw.
“Get back, girl. He’s liable to kick soon,” the groom warned.
Bronwyn stood back, just as the horse aimed a kick. She stepped back a few paces. The groom handed the torch to the guard and went to calm Sorel down, making soothing noises. He said over his shoulder, “There’s no blood in the stall. Just a bit on the straw where we found him.”
“Then he must have gotten injured somewhere else, and fell in the stables.” She looked around. “I wonder what he was doing.”
“Probably taking a horse out,” the guard said.
“Now? At this time of night? When there’s a siege on? It’s not safe. He’d be shot quickly, wouldn’t he?”
The guard grunted. “Maybe he got injured and fell in here. That’s what I think happened.”
“I think he was going somewhere. Look, there’s his saddlebag. He was leaving.” The groom pointed.
Sure enough, a small bundle lay inside the corner of the stall. The groom fished it out and handed it to Bronwyn. “Doesn’t feel like anything here but a spare set of clothes and a bedroll.”
“No food or coin?”
The groom opened the bag. “No.”
Bronwyn tapped her chin. This was interesting. “I wonder where he was going at this time of night. He knew he was expected at dinner.”
“Maybe he had an urgent message to relay, on behalf of the empress,” the guard said. “Maybe she ordered him to deliver it at once.”
“No,” said Bronwyn. “She had ordered him to report at dinner, in front of everyone.”
“Maybe she forgot.” The guard shrugged as both Bronwyn and the groom looked at him. “I’m just guessing. I don’t know. Anyway, we should be getting back.”
“But what about the body? What do we do with it?”
“Got a cart?” the guard asked.
“Yes. We use it to shovel the horse dung,” the groom said.
Bronwyn’s mouth began to curl into a smile, but she maintained a serious expression. “We’ll need to borrow it.”
Minutes later, she helped drag Tristan’s body into the cart.
Aside from the bruises she’d noted earlier, there was no new bruising on him that she could tell.
She gingerly felt his hair and did notice a hard lump on his forehead.
That was strange. So someone had apparently hit him from the front.
He’d faced his attacker, whoever it had been.
She didn’t think the horse had done it because the animal was so big and powerful, there would have been blood.
The guard wrinkled his nose at the smell. The cart had a singular purpose and it showed. Bronwyn asked, “Where is the cold storage?”
“I’ll take him there. You tell the empress.”
“What about his things?”
“Give them here. He can be buried with them.” The groom tossed the saddlebag into the cart.
Bronwyn turned back to the groom. “You didn’t hear anything? A fight, maybe?”
“No. Nothing. I heard the horse whinnying and making a noise, and I went to go see, along with the page. That’s when we found him.” He rubbed the side of his face. “What’s going to happen? They won’t hurt Sorel, will they?”
“I don’t think so.” Bronwyn returned to the dining hall. She glanced at the row of faces from the ladies, watching her. Lady Susanna’s face was impassive, but she sat stock-still in her place on the bench. Her gaze never left Bronwyn.
At the sight of her, the empress motioned her forward.
Bronwyn went to her side and spoke softly in her ear.
“Tristan is dead. We found him in the stables. I’m not sure how he died.
We think it might have been an accident.
But he had a saddlebag with him. It looked like he was leaving.
Did you task him with delivering a message, Your Grace? ”
The empress hissed, “See me in the throne room immediately.” She looked back at the nobles dining around her and replaced her expression with a pleasant smile.
Bronwyn curtsied and excused herself and made her way to the empress’s throne room.
A few minutes later, she was joined by the empress, who paced the room as Sir Miles stood by.
The empress wore a simple gold circlet on her head.
She said, “I would not ask this of you, Bronwyn, but there are few whom I can trust. There is a spy at court, as you well know, and Tristan’s death has complicated matters. ”
She shot a glance at Sir Miles, who gave a stiff nod.
“We are planning a tactical retreat, and we need to let Sir Robert know so he can cover our rear. I had not tasked Tristan with delivering such a valuable message, but now that he is gone, we need to move quickly and—”
“I would not tell the girl too much, Empress, in case she is captured and put to the rack. She cannot reveal what she does not know,” Sir Miles said.
Bronwyn’s eyes widened. “‘The rack’?”
“That won’t happen to you, I’m sure,” the empress said. She stood back as Sir Miles wrote a quick note on some parchment and dripped some burning wax on the folded-up section. “Use my ring, Sir Miles. Then Sir Robert will know it’s from me.”
She gave it to him and he pressed it into the wax. “There.” He handed Bronwyn the letter. “Take this to Sir Robert and guard it with your life.”