asked.
‘Yes. It took me some time to find a spot, the best place to shoot. Now the assassin may have known that Lord Henry intended to organise a hunt in Savernake Dell but he wouldn’t know where the manor lord would be standing. Nor would he know if he’d get a good view of him.’
‘Of course,’ Ranulf said. ‘The assassin may have come here, only to find Lord Henry screened by his retainers and his guests.’
‘Precisely. In which case our assassin may have tried to kill Lord Henry before or even waited for another day.’ He smiled over his shoulder at Sir William. ‘But there’s a weakness in what I say?’
The manor lord stared stonily back.
‘You know there’s a weakness, Sir William. Your brother Lord Henry was a man of power. He would stand second to no one. He would have to be in the front. He was the host, the great huntsman.’
‘But anyone would know that,’ Sir William stammered.
‘You mean not just his family?’ Ranulf taunted.
‘As Sir Hugh says,’ Sir William replied defensively, ‘Lord Henry was the first in all things. First born, first in the tournament, in the cavalcade and, yes, in the hunt.’
Corbett walked away, studying the great oak trees. He strode across to an ancient, hollowed one, probably struck by lightning. It was at least two yards in girth. Others, similar, stood nearby.
‘What is this place?’
‘We are on the edge of Savernake Dell,’ Sir William replied. ‘But they call this " Hollowman Place " after the oak trees. My father, when he was a boy, told of a great storm in which some of the trees were struck by lightning.’
‘And?’ Corbett asked.
‘It’s well known as a lovers’ tryst or a place where children play.’ William gave a lop-sided smile. ‘My brother and I often came here to play "Catch and See".’
Corbett stepped into one of the hollowed oaks, where he smelt the strong odour of mildewed wood, fungi and forest bracken. It was like being in a small cell. He peered up at the sky. Such a place would be favoured by any child or outlaw, or an assassin waiting for his victim to appear.
‘Ranulf! Search the other hollow trees!’
‘What am I looking for?’
‘When you find it, you’ll know.’
Sir William stood nonplussed as Corbett and Ranulf moved from tree to tree in that dark-green glade. At each one Corbett crouched down, sifting among the soft moss and fern, dry twigs and rotting leaves. The hollowed trunks were dark but there was enough light to search carefully.
‘Over here!’ Ranulf called.
He was standing by one of the oaks further away. Corbett hurried across. Ranulf was sifting the dirt in the palms of his hands. Corbett glimpsed the small tassels of leather, the thin grey goose feather. He picked these up, scrutinised them and moved into the hollow trunk where Ranulf had found them but could discover no further traces. He put what they had found into his pouch.
‘We know this was no accident,’ he declared. ‘And this is where the assassin hid. I think he came here early in the morning, even the day before, and hid a bow and quiver. The feather and tassel are from these. He then came back and hid in one of these hollowed trunks, making sure Lord Henry was in Savernake Dell and this side of the wood was deserted.’
Corbett walked to where he calculated the assassin must have taken aim, counting under his breath all the time.
‘A very short while!’ he shouted. ‘The assassin Would then hasten back, the bow and quiver are Placed back in one of the hollow oaks and then he’d §o looking for his horse.’
Ranulf had already anticipated this and was deep the trees, kicking at the carpet of fallen leaves.
‘Sir Hugh! Sir William! Over here!’
Ranulf pushed away the leaves with his dagger, revealing scattered horse dung.
‘He tethered his horse to a tree,’ Ranulf explained. ‘Probably bridled, the hooves may have been covered in rags.’ He cut a piece of the dung with his dagger. ‘He even had time
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