Ian Morson - Falconer and the Death of Kings

‘But you don’t.’

Jack shook his head sadly.

‘Don’t imagine I’m a paragon of virtue, either. I am poor enough to be grateful for Geoffrey’s beneficence too. And I can fawn with the best of them to gain that. But I don’t blind myself to his overbearing manner. As for Paul, he didn’t fall under Geoffrey’s spell, either. And it’s true that he was outside the magical circle somewhat. You must understand that the university is divided into four nations. The French Nation predominates, but those from Rouen make up the Norman Nation, while those in the north who speak Flemish and some French are the Picard Nation.’

‘And the fourth is the English Nation?’

‘Yes, including German and Slavic speakers. They are very much in the minority, and I suppose that is how Paul felt. One among many. But to get back to my original point, don’t imagine that Geoffrey Malpoivre is all generosity and understanding. He was just as capable as any of us of teasing Hebborn unmercifully for his stammer. Only Master Adam seemed to sympathize with his difficulties.’

Thomas looked at Jack, who was still scratching the mud into random shapes with his stick. The young man sometimes seemed very old to him.

‘Your master is a generous man, then?’

‘Adam? Oh, yes, he is generous. If he takes to you.’

Thomas had wanted to tell Falconer all that he had learned. But after dinner William seemed distracted and full of his own concerns. Thomas lit a candle in their shared room and sat on the end of his bed.

‘I could tell you something about Paul Hebborn, but you look as if you are bursting to tell a story of your own, master.’

Falconer sat on one of the low stools and looked at Thomas with surprise.

‘Either I am getting more obvious with age, or you are becoming more perspicacious, Thomas Symon. I will allow that it is your greater wisdom, if only because it then does not mean I am weakening as I grow older. And less of the master, if you please. You are Master Thomas in your own right now, and an equal. Almost.’

‘Then, William, tell me what is on your mind.’

Falconer pulled his stool closer to Thomas, causing the legs to screech on the stone flags.

‘You will not believe who I spoke to today. But our conversation was an uncanny echo of a tale told us last year in Oxford.’

Thomas was lost already, and his puzzled look pleased Falconer no end. He could still perplex his young and eager companion, despite his apparent mental decline over the years. He decided to stretch out the agony a little more first.

‘But you are right. Your investigations into the death of Paul Hebborn take precedence. Tell me what you have found out. Oh, and did you arrange for Roger Bacon to meet you at the school of Adam Morrish?’

‘I did speak to Master Adam about using a room in his school, and that in return I could arrange for a very great scholar to teach there. He was curious as to who it could be, but said I could use the room anyway. There is a downstairs room at the back that is too small to teach in, but I could use it. I looked it over. It was dirty and damp — the house backs on to the river. But it will serve.’ Thomas paused enough from his outpouring to say what was really on his mind. ‘Now for God’s sake tell me who you have been speaking to, and what your reference to a tale from last year is all about before I burst with curiosity.’

Falconer burst out laughing.

‘Then I will tell you. Do you remember the strange story Sir Humphrey Segrim told us?’

‘About the Templar knight who pursued him across the world to the Holy Lands and back?’

‘That is it. He thought the death of Ann, his wife, was because he knew of a complex conspiracy to murder. And the Templar was trying to make sure Segrim and his wife, whom he might have told, never revealed the truth.’

‘But we found that to be a fantasy when we uncovered who really killed Mistress Segrim.’ Thomas paused uncertainly. ‘Didn’t we?’

‘We revealed that it had nothing to do with Ann’s death, yes. But we didn’t prove either way that what Segrim believed as true was not the case. It simply became irrelevant.’

Falconer pulled the flagon of beer that stood on the table towards him. He poured two generous servings in pewter jugs and drank deep from one before continuing. Thomas took the other jug, sipped, and returned it to the table as Falconer spoke again.

‘Strangely enough, Sir Humphrey came to me before we left Oxford and begged me to find out if there was any truth in the tale. And to find out about the fate of the Templar.’

‘Odo de Reppes? He just disappeared, didn’t he? The Templars are good at that. Dealing with their own.’

Falconer nodded and drank from his jug again.

‘You are right. He did disappear. But we do not know the reason why he did. After all, we do not know if he committed any crime or not.’

Thomas pushed his tankard around the table and wiped the wet circle the base had left on the bare oak with the sleeve of his robe.

‘What has this to do with what is happening now? Surely you do not intend to pursue the matter on Segrim’s behalf? It was a crazy idea then, and it remains so.’

Thomas was more vehement than he needed to be, partly because it was he who had been taken in by Segrim’s story in the first place. It had diverted him from the trail that led to Ann Segrim’s real killer. The gleam in Falconer’s eyes told him, however, that his former teacher was not going to leave the matter alone. Falconer began to explain why.

‘Today I spoke to someone who cast doubt on our assessment of Sir Humphrey’s tale. He suggested that there might be a link between several deaths over the last three years, including those that Segrim mentioned.’

Thomas was still unconvinced.

‘But how can that be? We know who killed his wife and why, and it bore no relation to any of the deaths he witnessed. It was just coincidence that he was present when Earl Richard of Cornwall died, and when Henry of Almain was slaughtered in Viterbo. And we know who did that. It was down to the de Montfort brothers, Guy and Simon. And they paid for it. Didn’t Simon die soon after?’

‘Yes, and Guy was excommunicated and his lands confiscated. But it was the Templar who Segrim reckoned he saw in both locations.’

‘Odo de Reppes? What happened to him anyway?’

‘He just disappeared. But if I am to follow up these old cases, I shall have to find out where he is now. And by the way, that will serve also the promise I made to Segrim before I left England.’

‘That you would find the Templar?’

‘And ask him if he had intended to kill Segrim or his wife.’

‘And if he was really involved in this mad conspiracy. That is a question he will no doubt answer honestly.’

The contempt in Thomas’s voice was palpable. But Falconer remained calm.

‘Even if he lies, what he says and how he says it can provide evidence for me.’

‘Of this great conspiracy? Who in his right mind thinks such a plot exists?’

Falconer smiled.

‘Only the madman who has just inherited the throne of England.’

Thomas gasped, and his face turned red in embarrassment.

‘King Edward believes it? You have spoken to the king?’

‘He has his suspicions, let us say. And he wants me to examine these cases, and two more he imagines may be connected.’

‘What cases are these?’ Thomas wanted to express his deep doubts about the whole affair. ‘More deaths of kings?’

‘In a way, yes. Richard was King of Germany, and his son could have acceded to the throne. In the same way that the young Prince John was heir to the throne of England before he too died.’

‘John was five years old, and died… oh… three years ago, as I recall. How are you going to investigate such an old, cold affair?’