David Gemmell – Rigante 3 – Ravenheart

Galliott weighed these thoughts in his mind as he left the woods. The girl was dead, which was a tragedy, but nothing would bring her back. Equally, nothing would be achieved if a fine officer like himself were to be made a scapegoat for a piece of filth like Bindoe. I should have rid myself of him long ago, he thought. He would have, except for the fact that Bindoe was an expert tracker and a fine fighting man. He was also, within his dark limitations, loyal to Galliott and the regiment.

As the Borderer walked down the short slope to where the crowds were still gathering he spotted Sergeant Packard, an eight-year veteran and a friend of Bindoe’s. Galliott called him over and swiftly relayed the orders given by Mulgrave to question the crowd. ‘We will need all the men we have here, and any others not on watch should be sent for,’ he said. ‘After the debacle of the fight tourney there may be unrest later.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Galliott paused, aware that he needed to choose his words with care. ‘Sergeant Bindoe did ask me for compassionate leave earlier. One of his relatives has taken sick in Scardyke. Find him and tell him he can leave immediately.’

‘I believe he has already gone back to the barracks, sir,’ said Packard. ‘He was injured by a highland woman earlier.’

‘I see,’ said Galliott. ‘Well, give out the orders first, then relay my message to Sergeant Bindoe.’

‘Yes, sir. What happened up there, sir?’

‘That has still to be ascertained. We’ll know more by morning.’ Satisfied that he had done all he could to rectify and restore the situation Galliott proceeded across the field to the main feasting pits. His wife, Morain, was in charge of the roasting, and she was a fine cook – probably the best in Eldacre.

As he walked through the throng many people spoke to him, prominent citizens and merchants, and even two members of the Sacrifice clergy. All wanted to know the circumstances of the girl’s death. Galliott assumed the expected expression of grave concern and answered them with reassuring banalities; the situation was under control, the investigation was proceeding, his men were even now questioning possible witnesses.

‘Could it have been highlanders?’ asked the bishop. Would that it could, thought Galliott. It would muddy the proceedings wonderfully. Unfortunately the area adjacent to the woods was entirely within the Varlish field. He pondered the possibility of several highlanders’ climbing over the patrolled fence on the far side of Five Fields and making their way through to the Varlish area unnoticed. At another time it might have been expedient to let this theory fly for a while, but not today. The Gorain-Grymauch fight had left a bad feeling in the air, and it would not take much for a riot to ensue. Such a disturbance would reflect badly on Galliott’s ability to control the crowd.

Aware that others were waiting for his answer, Galliott raised his voice. ‘No highlanders were involved,’ he said. ‘It is possible that the young woman took her own life. If not then her assailants were certainly Varlish.’

‘Incredible,’ muttered the bishop.

‘Indeed so, my lord. I am heart sick at the possibility. But be assured I shall not rest until this matter is resolved. If the girl was killed we will hunt down her killers and make them pay.’ Galliott bowed and moved on.

Despite being an animal Bindoe was no fool. The message to take compassionate leave would be understood. He would flee the country. Then this whole sorry mess could be allowed to fade away.

The smell of prime beef wafted to the Borderer’s nostrils. As he approached the roasting pit he saw Morain coming towards him, holding a platter of meat, gravy and fresh-baked bread. He smiled at her.

‘Was it that strumpet, Chara Ward, as people are saying?’ Morain’s pinched face was set in a stern expression of disapproval. Reaching out Galliott stroked his wife’s dark, greying hair.

‘Aye, it was.’

‘Serves her right for taking up with highland scum. Women with no sense of morality always come to a bad end.’

‘Indeed they do, my dove,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

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