Page 60 of Forgotten Secrets (Secrets of the Heart 4)

“Have you found out anything else by talking to the servants?”

“It’s been hard now that my cousins and yer family are here, but there is a bit of gossip goin’ around the kitchen that I think might interest ye.”

“What is it?”

“I overheard one of the scullery maids tellin’ a page that she heard the guards talkin’ after she bedded one of them last night.”

“Why should this concern me? I don’t care what they do behind closed doors.”

“She said one of the beggars was wearin’ a ring that he said he found on a slain man in the woods.”

“Dead man?” Bedivere’s ears perked up. “Who was it?”

“I dinna ken. I asked the page afterwards and he said that the guards didna want to upset Lady Ernestine so they buried the body in the woods for now. There are so many people here for the choosin’ of the earl’s successor in two days’ time, that they didna want to cause a ruckus by lettin’ everyone know a man has been murdered.”

“Murdered? Which guards know about this?”

“I’m no’ sure. Did ye want me to find the girl and ask her?”

“Nay.” Bedivere turned and quickly saddled his horse. “There’s no time. Do you know where they buried the man?”

“The scullery maid said the body was buried in a shallow grave behind the biggest rowan tree at the entrance to the forest.”

“Thank you, Morag. This is good information. But I need to know who was murdered because it could tell us a lot about what is going to happen next.” He climbed atop the horse.

“Wait! Where are ye goin’?”

“I’m going to find the body to see if I can get more information.”

“Then I’m comin’ with ye.”

Before Bedivere could object, Morag was climbing up atop the horse as well.

“Well, all right,” he said, knowing she might be helpful since he didn’t know people at the castle. “But we’ve got to hurry before something horrible happens.”

“Was it somethin’ Whitmore said that has ye so worried?”

“It’s what he didn’t say that concerns me the most. Hold on, because we’re riding fast and stopping for nothing.”

They took off over the drawbridge and through the crowd of knights and villagers gathered just outside the castle. It didn’t take long to get to the tree that Morag pointed out to him.

“That’s it. That’s the tree,” said Morag. Bedivere brought the horse to a stop. He dismounted and helped her down as well.

“Fresh dirt,” he said, pointing to a plot of earth that had recently been dug.

“Do ye think that is where the body is buried?” Morag made a face.

“I’m pretty sure. But there is only one way to find out.” Bedivere grabbed a thick branch and used it to dig in the earth. It didn’t take long before he found the body, flipping it over to see that the man’s throat had been slit. “It’s the work of an assassin,” he told Morag.

“Are ye sure?” Morag kept her distance and looked the other way, not wanting to lay eyes on the dead man.

“I’m sure.” Bedivere had slit enough throats in his life to recognize the work of an assassin.

“I canna look,” said Morag, holding her hand over her nose and mouth trying not to inhale the putrid smell.

“I don’t recognize the man and need you to tell me if you know him, Morag. Take a look.”

“I canna,” she answered, looking the other way. “Dinna ask me to do that.”

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