Michael Jecks - The King of Thieves

‘Then so be it.’

Bishop Walter stood, bowed curtly to each, and walked from the room. And as soon as he was outside, he felt the sweat break out on his brow.

‘Sweet Jesus protect me!’ he pleaded, crossing himself.

‘So that is that, my Lady,’ Cardinal Thomas said. He selected a grape from the pile before him and chewed it carefully, the seeds crunching. ‘He will not submit to your eminently fair requests.’

‘I knew it! I knew it before he entered. Did I not say to you that he was the most stubborn and foolish of all the priests in the realm? If he thinks it is not to his profit, nor that of his damned college in Oxford, nor to his little schools for children, nor to the good of his cathedral, he will have nought to do with it,’ the Queen spat petulantly. ‘He is so irrational!’

‘He must have a letter about him for the money,’ the Cardinal said pensively.

‘Yes. But the only way to acquire it would be to capture him, ask where it is hidden and steal it from him.’

‘Quite. Exactly as I was thinking,’ the Cardinal said very softly.

‘You are serious?’

‘Never more so.’

The Queen frowned with perplexity, looking away. ‘I would prefer not to have a Bishop’s death on my conscience.’

‘And the alternative? That you salve your conscience at the risk of your son’s inheritance? Not the best option, my Lady.’

‘How may a lady find a man capable of such …’

‘Please leave it in my hands, my Lady. I can easily find the man for you.’

She was no fool, and now she looked at him very directly. ‘And what will you desire for this aid, Cardinal?’

‘My Lady, all I wish for is an opportunity to serve you, of course,’ he smiled. ‘And, perhaps, when you have the money in your hands, you will seek to reward with your largesse those who have helped you?’

Bishop Walter’s chamber, Louvre

Bishop Walter was enormously relieved to find Baldwin and Simon in his chamber waiting for him.

‘Lock the door,’ he burst out, as he crossed the room to his sideboard. On it was a jug, and a servant hurried to try to pour him a goblet of wine, but the Bishop merely slapped him away and poured for himself. Draining the first goblet, he refreshed it and stood silently a moment, staring at the wall before him, thinking desperately.

‘Bishop? My Lord?’ Simon said tentatively. ‘What is the matter?’

‘The bitch! The she-wolf! It’s all her,’ Bishop Walter said, and drank deeply again. Then, quickly, he made up his mind and turned to face the others. ‘He sits there and tells me, that Cardinal, that he was born to humble surroundings! Well, all I can say is, it is a great shame no humility wore off on him as a result!’

‘Bishop, we do not understand what you’re on about.’ Simon tried again. ‘What has happened?’

‘That Cardinal! The Queen! Very well. So be it! Simon, Baldwin, I have to leave here most urgently. Tonight you will sleep here with me. At first light, as soon as the gates are opened, I shall flee the city. We have need of haste — to warn the King of the treachery that is so alive here in Paris.’

Baldwin shot a look at Simon, then approached the Bishop. ‘What has happened? You are distressed, but when you left us earlier, you appeared content and satisfied.’

‘She threatened me, Sir Baldwin. The Queen suggested that I would not be permitted to stand in her way. She threatened me — me , a Bishop in Holy Orders, in God’s name! The whore is no more loyal than a feral cat. While it suits her, she treats others with respect, but the next moment, she forgets all trust and faith and honour-’

‘Bishop, please be still,’ Baldwin said sharply. ‘This is her city, do not forget, and there are many people who would be happy to spy on you and spread malicious stories about your conversations. Please moderate your tone.’

The Bishop was about to snap back, but then he grew uncomfortably aware of the servants in the chamber. There was the steward at his sideboard, chamber servant over by the door, and a scribe sitting with his head bowed at his desk. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, and ordered the servants to leave them alone.

‘My apologies, Sir Baldwin. I am sure that those men are safe — they are all English, but you are right to be cautious.’

‘Even an Englishman could be tempted by a bribe,’ Baldwin said.

‘True. Well, Queen Isabella has made it clear that I am not to try to thwart her any more. She wishes for the money which I can authorise from the banks, and I will not comply. For that reason I must leave here. I was threatened with death. And offered a bribe, too! The Cardinal suggested I might enrich myself, as he has. Well, I will not!’

‘Very well. We shall prepare ourselves,’ Baldwin said.

‘No. You will remain here. If we travel as a group, there is little possibility that we shall escape the nets the Queen will throw in our path. I shall wander alone, clad as a pilgrim. That way, perhaps, I can reach the coast safely.’

‘You will need some men to go with you,’ Baldwin protested.

‘I shall have my clerks,’ the Bishop said firmly. ‘That will be enough to confuse any search. If I were to go with a larger party it would be too easy to find me.’

Simon was frowning with incomprehension. ‘But what if they do find you? They would surely not dare to hurt you while you have letters of safe conduct?’

‘Simon, my friend, while I am in France, I am in enormous danger,’ the Bishop explained. ‘There are too many people here who detest me and would be keen to see me dead. The Queen for one, but since these rumours about the Procureur dying because of me, there are many others who would also like to see me die.’

Baldwin nodded. ‘There are risks in setting off with only a few clerks in attendance, but you would be safer, perhaps, in the guise of a pilgrim than in travelling with a large retinue. Are you sure you do not wish for a sword at your side?’

‘I will have my own sword,’ the Bishop said shortly. ‘I am a knight’s son, and have experience of combat. And two of my clerks have had their training in weapons. We should be safe enough.’

‘Then it is decided,’ Baldwin said. ‘And it is the more crucial since it will give you the opportunity to bring news of Mortimer to the King.’

‘Yes,’ the Bishop said, pausing suddenly. ‘I had forgotten him.’

‘What of him?’ Simon asked.

‘You remember I said that he and I had had no disputes in the past? Well, now I wonder whether he has a hand in all this. How else could the Queen have grown so poisoned against me?’

‘It is possible that she and he are allied,’ Baldwin agreed, glancing at Simon. During their last visit to Paris they had witnessed Mortimer and the Queen holding a private conference, but then there had not appeared to be any danger in two exiles talking. Now it seemed that there might be more to it. ‘But Sir Roger Mortimer was always very devoted to his wife, I am sure.’

‘He was — but he hasn’t seen her in years,’ the Bishop muttered. ‘The King has her held tighter than a whore’s purse.’ He looked up, suddenly ashamed. ‘I am sorry, friends. These last days have been tormenting to me.’

‘We understand,’ Baldwin said. ‘Now, if you are to leave at first light, there is much to plan.’

Outside Paris, north of the Louvre

Hélias heard running feet and looked up in time to see Bernadette pelt in through the door.

‘Hélias! Hélias!’ she gasped.

‘Well? What have you found out?’

‘There was a contract between the Cardinal and the King, and the King had his best killer put on the job. A man called Jacquot.’