The door to the castle opened and both men turned. Two guards appeared at the entrance, a stranger between them. Belwain had arrived.

Geoffrey motioned to the guards and they quickly departed. Belwain, small in stature and elegantly dressed in peacock green and yellow, but with a wide girth, hesitated at the entrance to the hall. "I am Belwain Montwright," he finally announced in a nasal whine. He dabbed at his nose with a lacy white handkerchief while he waited for a response.

Geoffrey stared at the man before him for a full minute before answering. "I am your baron," he said in a forceful voice. "You may enter."

The lord leaned against the wooden table again and watched his wife's uncle as he hurried into the room. The man was walking as though he was being hindered by an imaginary rope tied to both ankles. Geoffrey found Belwain's voice as offensive as his motions. It was high-pitched with a scratch attached to it.

There was absolutely no resemblance to Thomas Montwright, Geoffrey thought. He remembered Thomas as a tall, vibrant man. The younger brother, now kneeling before him, appeared to be an old woman in men's garb.

"I pledge you my fealty, my lord," Belwain said, one hand over his heart.

"Do not give me your pledge, for I will not accept it until I know what is in your mind. Stand!" The harshly ordered words had the appropriate effect. Belwain was suitably intimidated, Geoffrey decided. His eyes, glazed with terror, told Geoffrey that.

When Belwain was standing before him, Geoffrey said, "Many blame you for what happened here. You will now tell me what you know of this matter."

The uncle took several gulping breaths before answering. "I knew nothing of the attack, my lord. I heard of it only after the fact. As God is my witness, I had nothing to do with this. Nothing. Thomas was my brother. I loved him!"

"You have a strange way of mourning your brother," Geoffrey said. At Belwain's confused expression, Geoffrey continued, "It is proper to wear black, and you do not."

"I wore the best that I owned, to show honor for my dead brother," Belwain answered. "He liked colorful tunics," Belwain added, stroking the sleeve of one arm as he spoke.

Disgust welled up in Geoffrey's throat like burning bile. This was no man standing before him but a weakling. The lord kept his expression neutral, but found it a difficult task. To gain additional control, he turned and walked over to the hearth.

Turning back to Belwain, he said, "The last time you saw your brother there was an argument?" Geoffrey's voice was almost pleasant now, as if he was greeting an old friend.

Belwain didn't immediately answer. His eyes, like a cornered rat, darted from his lord to the knight sitting at the table, and then back to Geoffrey again. He seemed to be considering his options. "It is true, my lord," he answered. "And I shall carry the burden of saying harsh words to my brother for the rest of my days. We parted last in anger, of that I am guilty."

"What was the argument about?" Geoffrey inquired, totally unmoved by Belwain's tear-filled admission. Compassion was the last thing in Geoffrey's mind.

Belwain watched the lord, saw that he seemed unmoved by his impassioned speech, and continued in a less dramatic voice. "My brother promised me additional land for planting. Yet each year he would further the date for handing over the land, always with some insignificant reason. My brother was a good man but not given to generosity. And the last time I saw him, I was sure I would get the land. I was sure! He had used up his reasons," Belwain added, "but again he dangled the carrot before me and then at the last minute withdrew it."

Belwain's face had turned a blotched red as he spoke, and his voice lost some of the whine. "I had reached my limit and was tired of his games," he said. "I told him as much and we began to yell at one another. He threatened me then, my lord. Yes, he did! He threatened his only brother. I had to leave. Thomas had a terrible temper and many enemies, you know," he added. "Many enemies."

"And you believe one of his 'many enemies' killed him and his family?"

"Yes, I do." Belwain nodded vigorously. "I tell you again, I had nothing to do with it. And I have proof that I was nowhere about. There are those who will tell you if you will allow me to bring them inside."

"I have no doubt that you have friends who will state you were with them while your brother and his family were slaughtered. No doubt at all," Geoffrey said. His voice was mild, but his eyes were chilling.

"Yes," Belwain said, standing taller. "I am not guilty and I can prove I am not."

"I have not said you are guilty," Geoffrey replied.

He tried to keep his voice neutral, for he had no wish to let Belwain know what he was feeling inside. Belwain, he hoped, would be lulled into a false sense of security, and perhaps become more easily trapped. "I have only just begun to look into this matter, you understand."

"Aye, my lord. But I am sure that in the end I will be a freeman. Perhaps the new lord of Montwright lands, eh?" Belwain stopped himself just in time. He almost rubbed his hands with delight. It was easier than he had anticipated. The overlord, though quite intimidating in appearance, was most simple in his reasoning, Belwain hastily judged.

"Thomas's son is heir to Montwright," Geoffrey answered.

"Yes, that is most true, my lord," Belwain hurried to correct himself. "But as only uncle, I assumed that, once proven innocent of this terrible deed, that I… that is, that you would place the boy under my guardianship. It is the law," he added with emphasis.

"The boy's sister does not trust you, Belwain. She believes you guilty." Geoffrey watched Belwain's reaction to his statement and felt a rage begin to boil inside. Belwain was sneering.

"She knows nothing! And she will change her tune when I am in charge," he scoffed. "Too much freedom that one has had." There was genuine dislike in his voice, and he almost lost his life in that moment it took for Geoffrey to gain control.

He is a stupid man, Geoffrey thought. Stupid and weak. A dangerous combination.

"You speak of my wife, Belwain."

His statement had the desired effect. Belwain lost all color and almost collapsed to his knees. "Your wife! I beg your forgiveness, my lord. I did not mean, that is-"

"Enough!" Geoffrey barked. "Return to your men and wait until I send for you again."

"I am not to stay here?" Belwain asked, the whine back in his voice.

"Leave me," Geoffrey bellowed. "And be content that you still have your life, Belwain. I have not ruled out your guilt in this matter."

Belwain opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and snapped it shut. He turned and hurried from the room.

"God! Can he be brother to Thomas?" Roger said when the doors were closed. He all but shuddered with revulsion.

"He is afraid and yet brazen at the same time," Geoffrey answered.

"What think you, Hawk? Is he the one? Did he do it, plan it?"

"What do you think, Roger?" Geoffrey asked.

"Guilty," Roger stated.

"Based on?"

"Based on… disgust," Roger admitted after a time. "Nothing more. I would like for him to be guilty."

That is not enough."

"Then you do not think him guilty, my lord?"

"I did not say that. It is too soon to tell. Belwain is a stupid man. He thought of lying about the argument with his brother but decided against it. I could read the indecision in his eyes. And he is weak, Roger. I think too weak to plan such a bold thing. He appears to be a follower, not a leader."

"Aye, I had not thought of it that way," Roger admitted.

"I do not think he is completely innocent, but he did not do the planning. Of that I'm sure. No," Geoffrey said, shaking his head, "someone else is behind the deed."