He settled on the justiciar because he had worked with Master Octadenarius on a problem the bishop had needed secular authority to settle. It was nearly sunset when he arrived at the justiciar’s large and elegant house, so he was not surprised to find him at home. “You are zealous, Sir Bellamy,” Master Octadenarius said. “My lord of Winchester is well served.” As he spoke, he waved Bell across the large common room to which the servant had admitted him through a doorway and into a private chamber. He preceded Bell to a short, highly polished table and indicated a handsome stool, himself moving around the table to sit down in a large, imposing chair with arms as well as a back. While Bell settled, by habit immediately arranging his sword so that it did not pull his belt and would draw freely from the scabbard, he was aware of Octadenarius’s shrewd black eyes rapidly assessing him. “Not today,” Bell said, smiling. “I confess I have been hard at work, but not on the bishop’s business.
