This man, however, slipped past the door to the building, and disappeared in the shadows. That was interesting to Senchet, and he stepped silently down the staircase to the yard, leaned against a dark wall, and waited.
Sure enough, a few minutes later the same figure returned. He stood in the shadows, his head moving from side to side, and then he hurried away back to the feast.
Senchet watched him go, and then went the same way. He wondered if that other man might have essayed a hole in the building’s wall, in order to get in and filch the chest of coins. Not that he could do anything with it: he could hardly take the chest to his sleeping chamber and conceal it as a pillow!
But there was no hole in the wall. When Senchet walked along the way, he found only a postern door set into the wall. He touched the lock and felt the coolness of fresh oil, but that was all.
Why was the man coming here and making sure that the lock was oiled? Senchet wondered to himself. He frowned at it, trying to think of any reason other than the obvious one.
None occurred to him.
‘Who was he?’ Harry asked as Senchet spoke of the man at the postern gate.
Senchet had gone to the hall and attracted Harry’s attention by the simple expedient of pulling him from his seat.
‘One of the labourers, I think.’
‘A labourer going to oil the locks on a postern . . .’
‘At night. When all others are in the hall feasting.’
‘It does seem a little odd.’
Senchet sighed with extravagant emphasis. ‘Odd, you think? Why should a man do such a thing?’
All locks need oiling,’ Harry protested.
‘In the dark?’
‘Yes, that was curious. But perhaps he was supposed to do it during the day, and this was the first opportunity.’
Senchet looked at him.
‘Oh, all right. Come on.’
Sir Richard saw the two approaching. ‘Hey, Sir Baldwin, what d’you think of those fellows? Coming to beg alms or more ale?’
Baldwin glanced towards them, still smiling at a jocular comment from Benedetto, but his smile froze when he had heard what Senchet and Harry had to say.
A short time later, he and Simon had joined Sir Richard at the postern. All three studied it with interest. Baldwin touched the oil, feeling it slick between thumb and forefinger. ‘It is good that the gate’s lock is eased.’
‘Not the time o’ day for doin’ that sort of work,’ Sir Richard commented.
‘No. I agree,’ Baldwin said. ‘But the fellow did not unlock or unbolt the postern. It is still secure, so it is not the work of a man who is set upon allowing strangers in immediately.’
‘But could be sometime soon, was what we thought,’ Harry said. ‘If you’re seeing parties leaving the castle, the garrison will be reduced. And now it’ll take little time for a man to open the gate.’
‘Very true,’ Sir Richard said. ‘What d’you think, Simon? You have a good mind for subterfuge.’
‘I think we should mount a permanent guard here,’ Simon said. ‘Whoever did this could be opening the castle.’
‘Would you recognise the man again?’ Sir Richard demanded.
‘Yes. Without a doubt,’ Senchet said.
Sir Richard looked at Baldwin. ‘I think we ought to have all the masons and labourers stand in front of this good fellow and see if he can identify him.’
‘Absolutely,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘Let us go to their camp and do that straight away.’
The labourers had moved from directly below the tower in the north-east corner of the yard, and were a little further towards the southern wall because the tower had been one of the last sections to be completed and the tents were blocking the area the masons needed for their workings.
In the chill evening air, all the labourers and workers were made to stand and Senchet viewed each carefully before shaking his head. ‘No, it is not one of these here.’
Baldwin thanked the master mason responsible for the works and asked, ‘Is there any man missing?’
‘How would I know?’ he snapped. ‘I’m not responsible for them. My own fellows are here, and that’s all I care about.’
Baldwin and the others left him still fuming, and returned to the hall and their food. But at the doorway, Baldwin looked back. ‘I want a guard on the wall over the postern and another down by the gate itself. They will be relieved, but I want men there all through the night.’
‘Yes,’ Sir Richard said, and belched. ‘Damn nuisance.’
It was a tight fit in here, but William atte Hull was glad that he had spent time constructing this little hideaway.
The fact that the knights had gone to check where he had oiled the locks on the postern showed that someone had seen him. It was Art who saw the man walk in after William had left the dark alley. Art was a good, loyal servant of the King, and as soon as he saw Senchet down there, he had gone to warn William. And now here he was, hidden in what appeared to be a loose pile of rocks beside the southern wall. But it was not solid. He had carefully built a chamber in the heart of this pile, and now he lay in the makeshift shelter and considered what he could do to facilitate the attack.
