As the column proceeded, other knights rode forward and joined the group attending the Marshal. These new-comers gathered thickest about the Lady Helena, and Hugh found occasion for a word in private with Matteo.
"Hast any key to these Greeks?" he questioned.
Matteo's brows were furrowed by a puzzled frown.
"Only this: they are of the Comnenoi, an Imperial house, and they were forced into exile after the death of Andronicus, your father's friend, last of that line to sit on the throne of Byzantium. He was assassinated by one of the Angeloi, and 'tis the brother of that Angelos, you will remember, who rules now in Constantinople. This pair are on some errand of intrigue."
"But why is this man so sure of my father's death?"
"Would that I knew, comrade! Why are all those with the taint of the Greek Court so sure of it?"
"Ay, that is true," Hugh admitted sombrely. "Yet these two are exiles. What interest can they have?"
"They are Greeks—and they hope some time to rule in Constantinople. There are two causes for any lie."
"'Tis passing strange," Hugh conceded, "but mayhap I suffer from the canker of suspicion. I will strive to banish it. I must not suspect every stranger from Outremer of being an enemy to me."
"Banish it not, Hugh," advised Matteo earnestly. "Be ever on your guard. Certes, it was more than strange our meeting here in France with these two from Constantinople. Be on your guard against all Greeks. A slippery, treacherous race!"