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a musical laugh. It relieved the tension. ‘Only with the greatest difficulty, Your Grace.’
    ‘You think it a ridiculous idea?’
    ‘I do.’
    ‘So do I. And it suggests one thing: the man’s assailant must be one of these blackguards here and now in Lincoln skulking in my retinue. Now …’ He took the piece of vellum, screwed it up into the shape of a dagger and stabbed it angrily at the air to emphasise his words. ‘ … the second thing you’re going to do,’ his voice rose, ‘is question every man we have with us!’

    ‘Every single man?’ gasped Edwin.
    ‘Yes,’ he snarled. ‘I want to know who was where and when and why. You’ll be helped by the domina and her priest.’ He glared at Hildegard and Brother Thomas, who flinched. ‘The three of you can comb through their lies and find the fellow without a plausible story. We do not leave Lincoln until the matter is resolved!’
    He turned with a furious rustle of embroidered brocade. ‘He’s here. He’s got to be. It’s one of these lying devils. I want him nailed forthwith. And, I do not need to remind any of you’ – he paused ominously – ‘the words “blow to the head” or “murder” will not pass your lips. Let them put two and two together. The one who makes four is our man.’
    Shrugging his cope into place he raged out.
     
    ‘Well, well,’ said Edwin glancing at the two monastics. ‘This is a turn-up. I can still hardly believe it. In the palace of all places!’
    ‘We’d better start now if we want to get to Westminster,’ Hildegard suggested.
    ‘Who are we going to call first?’
    ‘We could start with your head cook, Master Fulford. He should know exactly where everybody was.’
    ‘After him I suggest the cook’s clerk, to check that their versions tally, then the brewmaster and the baker.’ He added, ‘We’ll give them all a good going-over. The bailiff must have done the same at Bishopthorpe with what’s left of the staff up there.’
    ‘They’re going to guess something’s up,’ muttered Thomas as they took their places.
     
     

    Rain was blowing in through the eye slits. It was a miserable day and not a good one for travel. The bishop’s yeoman of the chamber ordered his underlings to light a fire for them. ‘Useful things these fireplaces,’ he murmured as he went about his task. ‘I don’t know what we did without them.’ Thomas went over to warm his hands when he left.
    Word had been put out that Master Fulford was required to attend His Grace’s clerk in the privy chamber next to the guest hall. They took their places on a bench close to the hearth with another bench placed opposite to give them a good view of those they called. They were just waiting for Fulford to show up when Edwin eyed Hildegard and Thomas in a somewhat cynical manner. ‘I hope you two are ready for a pack of lies?’
    ‘It’s everyday life for us,’ replied Thomas, unperturbed. ‘You’ve no idea the lies they tell us in the hope of gaining pardon by the back door. As if their sins are not already known!’ He sighed and looked as if he was about to enlarge on the subject.
    Hildegard was used to this. She turned quickly to Edwin. ‘While we wait for the archbishop’s cook, why don’t you tell us something about him?’ She recalled the red-faced, angry-looking fellow who had almost swamped his fellow travellers in the wagon reserved for himself and other members of his kitchens.
    Edwin looked pleased to tell what he knew. ‘Of the lot of them I’d take his word first. He’s been with His Grace for about twenty years. Stuck with him through thick and thin. I expect they get on because they both have vile tempers. It allows them to understand each
other. I’m surprised neither of you two have been bawled out by His Grace yet.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Maybe it’s the power of your Order that makes him rein in the worst of it.’
    ‘I’d like to see him shouting at Hildegard,’ said Thomas.
    Edwin gave her a