Michael Jecks - Dispensation of Death

‘Why do you think someone could have tried to harm the Queen?’

But King Edward’s mind was rushing ahead. The Despenser had been reluctant to explain anything about the attack on the Queen. No, that was not true. The King himself had told him not to explain anything because he was anxious lest he learn something he did not want to know. If he was to discover that Hugh had indeed tried to kill his wife, that would have been an appalling situation. For then Edward would have had a responsibility to protect the Lady Isabella. To do otherwise would have been the grossest treason to her. Unthinkable.

And yet …

Hugh was perfectly capable of such cold reasoning. King Edward had seen that in him before. He was a most competent rationalist. When he wanted something and there was an obstacle, he simply sought the most effective means of bypassing it. Sometimes it meant capturing people and torturing them; occasionally he merely had them executed.

The King did not doubt Hugh’s personal devotion to him. Their feeling for each other went deep, like the love of those whose souls were united. It was inconceivable that Hugh would do anything directly to harm Edward. But if he had sought to hurt the Queen, King Edward needed to know.

King Edward was no ruthless tyrant. He wanted a happy kingdom, for all within it to be content. But he was the King, and that meant he had responsibilities. One was to ensure that if a man thought he could remove the Queen, he should be warned away. He should have been more masterful the other day when he first tried to tax Hugh with the crime and then changed his mind.

‘What else do you propose to do?’ he asked the knight rather absently.

Baldwin sighed deeply. ‘My Liege, there is little more a man like me can do. I have no authority here. Surely it would be best for Your Majesty’s own Coroner, John of Evesham, to investigate this matter?’

‘A Coroner? What use would that be? I need someone who is used to hunting killers, not a glorified clerk whose only interest is to record details of wounds and weapons so that a bill can be set against someone at a later date. No, you are better placed to seek the truth here, Sir Baldwin.’

‘You have other Keepers of your Peace in London, though,’ Baldwin continued to prevaricate. ‘Surely they must have better information than I? Would you not be better advised to ask one of them to look into this and-’

‘Mon Sieur Baldwin, I am commanding you to continue to investigate this matter and find who is responsible for committing this terrible murder of my lady-in-waiting to the Queen!’

‘But there is another possibility, My King. Have you considered that the lady could have been murdered by the dead man found behind your throne? Perhaps he killed her and then was killed in his turn. The man who punished the assassin was responsible for bringing justice on his head.’ There was a new idea there, one which made Baldwin frown again. The body was discovered right behind the throne. Suddenly he wanted to be away from this King and talking to Simon.

‘My friend, if someone was to kill an enemy of my Queen, he would also be killing an enemy of mine. There is no difference between us. An enemy of one is an enemy of both. Were he to do that, do you think he would not have come to me for a reward?’

Baldwin nodded slowly. ‘That is possible, but …’

‘No, it is more than possible! Sieur Baldwin, you do not understand life in a royal court, I fear. I do. I know the men here, and their motives. They would not hesitate to inform me of anything whatever which redounded to their credit. Oh yes! If one of them had killed this foul assassin, they would have been knocking on the door to my private chamber no matter what the time.’ He permitted himself a cynical smile.

Baldwin could see the logic of this, but he dared not raise the possibility which had just occurred to him.

‘So, Sieur,’ King Edward continued, ‘the lady was undoubtedly murdered by this other man. He learned that he had a competitor, and killed him too. That is my conviction. Someone had desired to kill the Lady Mabilla, and succeeded, but then met with this second man and had to kill him too.’

Baldwin smiled and nodded. ‘Of course, Sire.’ He was in a hurry to leave this chamber and escape out into the fresh air where he could think again.

‘So please continue,’ the King concluded, ‘and as soon as you learn something that might explain this whole sorry affair, let me understand your thinking.’

The royal audience was at an end.

Out in the Old Palace Yard, Baldwin grabbed Simon’s arm and drew him away to a shed that had been built against the western wall.

‘Baldwin, are you all right?’

‘The body, Simon! The body of the man,’ Sir Baldwin said urgently. ‘Where was it found?’

‘Right behind the throne, of course.’

‘And what sort of symbolism could have been meant by that?’

The Bailiff winced. ‘Ah. The power?’

‘Yes.’ Baldwin closed his eyes and leaned back against the stones of the wall. ‘I do not understand how I could have failed to see that! The body was set out behind the throne, his prickle cut off and shoved into his mouth. It was obviously a warning to his paymaster, to a man who is a sodomite, but who is also the power behind the throne. Despenser.’

‘So what do you want to do now?’ Simon said quietly.

‘What do I want? I want to escape this madhouse, fly back homewards and never return,’ Baldwin said bitterly. ‘What am I doing here? I am a good Keeper back in Crediton. I can read the laws and help keep them in Exeter. I can show my skills as a questioner and usually I can bear down upon people to find the truth. And that is all I ever seek, Simon. Just the truth. It is the only thing that matters in the end.’

‘So what is the truth here?’

‘Here? The truth is, I think, that the dead man was hired to come here to kill someone. Someone else learned of his plans, met him here and murdered him instead. When he was dead, his body was defiled in that abominable manner, and then the man responsible sought poor Mabilla, killing her.’

‘You still think that the Queen was not the target?’

‘If that was what our assassin intended, he would have been able to finish his task. There were only two women opposing him: Alicia and the Queen herself. How could they have protected themselves against one ruthless man with a dagger?’

‘Perhaps he wasn’t that strong?’

Baldwin looked at him. ‘The fellow had got to the palace where he was not permitted. That demonstrates at the least a level of determination that many would like to be able to copy. No, I believe he would have entered here and …’

He was suddenly still. Simon looked at him warily. ‘You have had another thought, haven’t you?’

‘Well, it’s just that if he didn’t come from hereabouts, he must have used a horse, which will be tethered somewhere close. However, a man on horseback at night is a rare sight, and always suspicious. More likely this fellow was bright enough to walk here. But he couldn’t come here on foot from too far away, could he? No, he would want an inn or tavern as his base. Perhaps he rented a room?’

Simon latched on to what he was saying. ‘Think, Baldwin! If a man came here and succeeded in killing, say, the Queen, the first thing to happen would be that the King’s men would smother the neighbourhood. If he had taken a room in a house nearby, the owner would know if he rose in the middle of the night and trotted off. No household is so quiet that a man could go abroad without someone being aware, and as soon as the men-at-arms arrived, mine host would become thoroughly talkative. If this fellow was staying nearby, he was either sleeping rough … no, it is too cold — unless he made his own camp, but about here that would be too obvious. So, not a camp … I would guess he stayed in a small inn or tavern. A place large enough for him to be anonymous, not a small house where his coming and going would be too obvious.’