GodwinInvestigatesTheFerrierIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | HoldfastGameLogs | Godwin Investigates the Ferrier Godwyn cast his gaze around the courtyard, considering who he should choose to go with him. His expression brightened as he saw a broadshouldered middle-aged man talking with two younger ones, all three of them watching a small group of Boltons as they crossed the courtyard. Jon the Bear, one of the sergeants of Holdfast, and a man who had spent his entire life in the service of Holdfast. He'd sworn loyalty to the Hardys long before Celia and Anders came north, and his loyalty was without question. He was Odette's cousin as well, and his connections with and knowledge of the people of the village could prove useful in this task. Godwyn walked over to them, calling out as he approached. "Ho! Jon! Has Ser Anders or my uncle got you doing something important right now?" The Bear shook his head. "Nay, lad," he answered. "Just watching after things is all. Keeping an eye on everyone, as it were." "Good," Godwyn answered. "Let's mount up, then, we have a task in the village." The old sergeant didn't ask questions, and soon the two of them were on the road to the village. Tovis's cottage lay on the outskirts of the village, suitable for a carrier who made regular journeys to the Kinsroad and beyond, as well as small outlying holdfasts. Usually, if she was at home, his cart would be drawn up ourisde, and Tovis himself would be sitting on the porch, greeting all passers with a cheery call. The cheeriness was something of a front; Tovis had a reputation for being over-found of money. Now the house was shuttered and dark, as though he was off on a long trip. The Bear looked to Godwyn for instructions. Godwyn dismounted, and waited for the Bear to do the same. He stepped up on the porch and rapped the door loudly with his fist. "Tovis!" he shouted. "You home?" There was no answer. "Right, then," said Godwyn. He took a step back, raised his leg, and smashed his foot into the door just under the handle with his full strength behind the blow. With a crashing and splintering of wood it flew open. Godwyn followed it up immediately, drawing his sword as he entered the darkened hut. There was a smell in the air, a rusty smell which Godwyn was familiar with. Tovis was seated at the table, slumped forward. His hands were clenched before him on the table, and his head was bent forward - his chest soaked with blood. When the Bear lifted his head, they could see why. His throat had been cut - with such force that his head had nearly been severed. Godwyn sighed. "About what I thought we'd find," he said gloomily. "Whoever took his cart didn't want him to be able to answer any questions." He sheathed his sword and looked around the small room, searching, without much hope, for any evidence of who might have been in it last. There seems to be nothing at all, apart from the usual belongings and, of course, the figure of the murdered man, still seated at the table as though he had been conducting business. Godwyn sighs again. "It was too much to hope that someone would have dropped a glove with the sigil of the Boltons upon it." He looked at the Bear. "Tovis didn't have any near relatives still alive, did he? Someone needs to take charge of the body. And then we should ask around and see if anyone remembers seeing someone leave with his cart, or saw anyone talking to him earlier." The Bear nodded. "Odette would be the best person to person to take charge of the body, Master Godwyn. And the inn's the best place to start enquiries, I reckon. Should we leave him here like this, or lay him on the ground?" "He doesn't look comfortable like that, does he? Let's lay him out on his table. It will make things easier for Mistress Odette, and it seems more respectful." Godwyn came around the table to the other side of Tovis from the Bear, and pulled the man's chair back from the table, and took his feet, leaving the Bear to life the man from the shoulders as they stretched him out on table top. He looked down at the body and shook his head, and then turned to walk out. Then, with a frown, he stopped, and turned back, touching the edge of the wound with one finger. He brought his hand up and rubbed the blood between finger and thumb. "How long would you say he's been dead, Jon?" he asked. The Bear stepped forward. "Long enough for the smell to have spead, Master Godwyn. And for it to dry." He moved to look closely. "No maggots in the wound yet though - so less'n than a day, I'd say, but more than a few hours." Godwyn nodded. "So they probably killed him this morning, before they took the wagon. I was wondering if they'd come back and done it." He shrugged. "Right, then," he said. "Nothing more we can do for him here. Let's to Mistress Odette." And he leads the way back to their horses, and then away. The inn was busy and bustling. The main topic of conversation was the trial earlier that day (yes, it really was that same day), and Godwyn, popular with the townsfolk anyway ("'E's a proper 'Ardy, that lad.") was hailed with respectful cheeriness by many of the patrons (the degree of respect as opposed to cheerfulness depending on the degree of inebritation of individual patrons). Odette herself, plump as ever, although a little more red-faced, was busy behind the bar - but greeted the Bear and Godwyn. "And what may I do for you, Master?" she asked. "We're going to impose on your good nature yet again, Odette," Godwyn said. He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. "Someone slit Tovis' throat for him. He ain't got any folks as I can recall, has he?" Odette gave a little gasp at his words, then shook her head. She brought up her apron and dabbed at her eyes. "That poor man, Master Godwyn! Of course, he wasn't the most popular man in the village - though there's no denying he was useful - if costly. But to die like that - all alone! What do you want me to do, Sir? Do you have someone to lay out the body before the Silent Sisters come?" "It would be good if you could do that for him," Godwyn answered. "And do you know, has anyone said if they saw his cart leaving this morning, or saw him talking to anyone?" "No-one has said, but I'll ask," said Odette. She leaned over the bar, and suddenly bellowed, in a voice guaranteed to cut through any conversation, "HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN TOVIS TODAY?" The Bear, who - like Godwyn - had received full blast, grinned at him apologetically. Godwyn winced, then grinned back at the Bear. There was silence in the tavern for a minute as people recollected. Then several declared that yes, they had seen Tovis. Hadn't he been in for a drink earlier? No, that was yesterday. Well, sitting on his porch. That
"I see'd him," said Faukes the swineherd. "He were taking his cart off first thing this mornin' as I was taking the pigs out into the forest for acorns. All wrapped up in his coat he were, as if'n it were cold. I called him - but he just waved and drove on. Off to meet traders on the Kingsroad, I reckoned." "Were you able to see his face?" Godwyn asked. "Or did he have that covered?" Faukes considered this with slow deliberation. Very slow. "I might have see'd un," he said at last. "Only he was driving away, like. So I would'en know if he were covered up like." Odette rolled her eyes. Godwyn nodded, and looked around at everyone in the room. "That wasn't Tovin," he announced to the inn at large. "Someone slit Tovin's throat this morning, and stole his cart. The man you saw, Faukes, whoever it was, he, and whatever friends he had, killed three Holdfast men, Jonkers, Cleve and Trowen." He waited for the reaction to the announcement to die down before adding, "Spread the word. If anyone saw anyone go into Tovis' house this morning, or saw who it was driving his cart, let us know right away." There was a low muttering around the inn - but no definite answers. Finally, a small skinny man piped up. Bob the Rat, it was, the man whose life was devoted to the eradication of vermin. Although one would not be mistaken for thinking that his face had earned him his name, for it was somewhat rat-like in appearance, and his nose distinctly twitched. "It weren't none of us!" he said. "If you're looking for murderers, you should look for furriners!" There was a general approving murmur at this. Anyone who was not of Holdfast - or of Hardy allegiance - was a foreigner, and thus highly likely to be capable of murder. "Or Boltons!" added Bob the Rat. The approving murmurs grew and heads were nodded sagely. Godwyn nodded. "That's how I see it, too," he said calmly. "But I hoped someone might have seen something, so we'd know who it was. Ask around." He paused a moment, then dropped his second bit of news. "And be careful out in the woods, Ser Kenrith and Ser Anders ran into Wilders while they were trying to track down the killers." "Wilders ... Wildings ... " The murmur went round the tavern - but it was Odette herself who learned forward to address them. "What are you going to do?" she asked - and the assembled throng waited expectantly. "Ser Kenrith and Anders are taking men and dogs out tomorrow to root them out," he answered. "We'll teach them not to come into Hardy lands. But we wanted to warn folks not to travel into the woods if they could help it, and to keep their eyes open for anything odd." He frowned. "Anyone seen any sign of those sellswords since last night?" A rumble went around the inn. No-one, it seemed, had seen the sellswords that day. "Apart from the youngest one," said Odette. "He paid for them all - said they had told him to do so, as he was staying on, while they were heading for the Wall. He went to the Castle, didn't he?" Godwyn nodded. "He's got a lot of loyalty, I'll give him that. He wants to squire for his captain tomorrow." He shrugged. "Admirable, I suppose." He turned back to Odette. "We'll escort you to Tovin's house, when you're ready to go." Odette nodded, wiping her ample arms on a handy piece of cloth and rolling down her sleeves, as though preparing herself. "I'm ready," she said. Godwyn nodded, and he and the Bear led Odette out of the tavern and down the long street of the village towards Tovis' hut. He was silent on the way, perhaps thinking, or perhaps he just didn't have anything to say. When they reached Tovis's house, the Bear hesitated. "Perhaps ... she shouldn't see ... " he began. Odette pushed him aside. "Psh! I've seen more dead men than you've had hot ... " She broke off with a frown. "Where is he then?" For he certainly wasn't sitting at the table anymore. He was lying on the ground, on his back. And his right hand had been severed at the wrist. Godwyn drew his sword and looked around. "That isn't how we left him," he growled. Odette frowned. "Then how did you leave him, Master Godwyn?" she asked, even as she went down on her knees to examine the body. "His hand were still attached," said the Bear. "Look - no blood where they cut it. That's been done recent." Godwyn stalked around the small hut, poking into corners with the sword, looking to see if there was a door into another room or a stair up into a loft. "Either someone was hiding in here while we were here, or they came in the short time we were fetching you," he told Odette. "Why would anyone want a dead man's hand?" he asked while continuing to search. "Not to hide who he was," said Odette. "But perhaps for something he was holding, which they had not time to force his hand open to take." Godwyn had found a door that led to the yard at the back, where a few chickens scratched around in a desultory manner, and a doleful pig munched on something in his pen ... "When you found him first," said Odette, "how did he hold his hands?" Godwyn paused at the door, picturing the scene in his head, as Maester Sewell had taught him. "They were in front of him, on the table," he answered. "Clenched, like fists. Or like he was holding something." He scowled, and strode out to look in the pig pen. Pigs would eat anything you let them at. He hoped it was just an apple.... But it wasn't. In fact, it was all too clear what it was. Or had been. "Gods!" he swore. He put a hand on the fence and leapt over, sword still held in the other, then slapped the pig with the flat of his hand. "Leave it!" he ordered. "Leave it!" He gave the pig one chance to obey. The pig dropped the hand. And went for Godwyn's leg instead - it looked tastier. As the animal charged Godwyn threw himself backwards.... "Pig..." ...hitting the fence. He had no doubt of its ability to hold him, Tovis had to have made it strong enough to keep the pig from breaking out. And Godwyn knew Tovis was capable of building well if he was motivated to do so, his cart was evidence of that. "...I am so very much...." Letting the fence take most of his weight, Godwyn brought his right foot up... "...NOT...." ....And with his full strength.... "...in the mood for this!" ...smashed the pig full in the snout. The pig gave a grunt and then commenced pained squealing as it turned and fled for the back of the pen to bury its abused smout in a trough of discarded cabbage leaves and other swill. "Remember that, pig," Godwyn said. "People are meaner than you are. Don't mess with us." Leaving Godwyn free to grab what remained of the hand. He bent down and picked it up, keeping a watchful eye on the pig. The pig had commneced eating at the wrist end - so the fingers should have been undamaged - but Godwyn could see that they had been smashed and broken - seemingly with some heavy implement (and there were plenty to hand in the garden). The fingers trailed limply, unlike the hand clenched in the rigor of death Godwyn had seen earlier. "Hmm," Godwyn said. He waved the hand thoughtfully, watching the limp fingers sway. Then he climbed back over the fence and walked back into the hut. "Found it!" he announced, holding the hand up for everyone to see. Odette, who was engaged in washing the corpse, gave a shrill squawk. Corpses she was used to. Grisly trinkets were quite another matter. "Oh my heart!" she gasped. "Oh Master Godwyn - whatever's happened to that?" Recovering from the shock, she heaved herself to her feet and came over to examine the mangled appendage. "Whoever cut it off looks to have smashed the fingers," Godwyn explained, holding it out to her. "And then they threw it in to the pig. He didn't have time to finish eating it." He frowned. "They can't have left too long ago..." he said thoughtfully. "While you were in the inn," said Odette, "for this wasn't done before, was it?" she gave a shudder. "They must be close at hand ... " "We should rouse the village watch," said the Bear. "They should be on full alert tonight." He looked worriedly at Godwyn. "But why did they come back to do this to the hand?" said Odette. "They could not have thought to disguise his identity by their actions." Godwyn stared at the hand thoughtfully. "They must have wanted something," he said. "And they had to cut the hand off to get it. Why? They smashed the fingers...." His eyes narrowed as he thought. "Before, his hands were clenched in fists. They had to smash the fingers to get what they wanted. A ring, maybe?" He shook his head, "Tovis didn't wear a ring, did he? I don't remember one. It may be..." he nodded to himself. "Yes, I think it must be. He was holding something, and they wanted it." The Bear nodded. "And what would Tovis be clutching so tight that they migfht want?" Odette snorted. "It was Tovis. The one thing Tovis loved was his profits." "Whoever it was showed him coin to pay for his cart. Once he had money in hand he wouldn't give it up, even when he was dead." Godwyn smiled. "It's nice to see a man hold to what he believes in," he said lightly. Odette nodded and then said, a little hesitantly, "Do you mind that hedge knight that was killed in my tavern a few years ago, Mastter Godwyn?" Godwyn nodded. "Aye," he said. "Anders wanted to arrest Ser Corryn for the murder. We never did get to the bottom of it, though I always thought those bandits in the wood had something to do with it." "I'm wondering," said Odette slowly, "if there might be some connection between those men, and the men who killed poor Tovis here. Last time - things were left behind. This time, they wanted no such mistakes." She picked up the severed hand and laid it almost reverentially across Tovis's chest. "Master Godwyn, you might be wishful to talk to Ser Corryn," she said. "Aye," he said slowly. He looked at the Bear. "We need to rouse the village watch, as you said," he told the sergeant. "Mistress, will you be all right by yourself? Those men can't be far off. I could wait with you while Jon goes and gets someone to come to watch over you." "Send Arney and a couple of my boys over and I will be quite safe," said Odette. "I know you'll need to take back news of this to the Castle as soon as possible." 'Right, then," Godwyn said. He nodded to the Bear, and the two of them left the hut. Godwyn led the Bear around the hut first, searching for tracks or any other sign that someone other than the three of them had been there recently. There were no signs - none visible to humans, at all events. And the dogs at his heels sniffed ... and then sneezed. Evan Tamm was not the only one who took precautions to throw dogs off the scent, it seemed. |
