Michael Jecks - Dispensation of Death

John didn’t like that. Which was why he was now descending into the filth of the main gaol to visit the guard from the southern wall, Arch.

It cost him a whole shilling to bribe the gaoler to open the ancient door so that he could enter the foul chamber.

‘Leave me, please leave me!’

Sir John had seen enough torture victims in his time to be unshaken, but from a professional viewpoint, he was disgusted. To have so destroyed this man was unnecessary and pointless. He had been broken in spirit, and from the look of his arms, in parts of his body too. Anything he had said at the extremity of his pain was irrelevant. Everyone knew that, who had ever questioned a man in this condition.

‘I will leave you, but I want to ask you some questions first,’ he said.

‘I know nothing more — nothing! Please, I can tell you nothing!’

‘The night — you know the night I mean. You were drunk.’

‘No! No! I had nothing!’

‘You fell asleep at your post.’

‘No! I was awake.’

‘You kept no watch. The assassin crept past you.’

‘He must have been there already.’

‘You saw him?’

‘No. I only saw the Queen’s guard on his rounds. No one else.’

John smiled. ‘And he knocked you down?’

‘No! No, he was keeping lookout. There was nervousness in the palace.’

‘You were asleep as soon as you arrived, I suppose? Everyone says you were lax in your work.’

‘No! I was awake until late. It was after the moon when I got hit.’

‘The moon?’ The Coroner was puzzled by that. ‘What of it? What do you mean?’

‘It had a halo. I haven’t seen such a one before. A halo all about it — the man must have come after that.’

And that, John told himself later, was the most perplexing aspect of it all. The man repeated those words several times — about the moon and its halo. And yet that had no bearing on anything, surely.

Simon followed Baldwin into the open. A fine rain had begun to fall, but Simon wanted to get as far away from the hall as possible. He stood in the rain with his eyes wide open, staring up at the heavens.

‘Sweet Christ, Baldwin! Did you have to antagonise him like that?’

‘Simon, he was testing us. Trust me. While we have the King’s favour and he wants us to carry on with this investigation, we are safe from Despenser.’

‘What, even down a darkened alleyway? Or near the river? It’s easy for a man like him to pay some felon to loop a rope about our necks, tie us to a rock and just throw us into the Thames. It’s easier still for him to pay a man to slip a dagger between our ribs. Sweet Christ! He threatened Jeanne, man, didn’t he? He more or less warned you off, or he’d burn the manor to the ground.’

‘And what would you have had me do, Simon?’ Baldwin asked with torment in his voice. ‘Would you prefer me to have bobbed my head and act obedient, like any number of those fools who work for him? I cannot do that, old friend. I am a knight, when all is said and done.’

‘But Baldwin …’

The knight turned to face him. He stood so close, Simon could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, the way that his beard curled back from the point of his chin to face towards his ears, the small tracery of thin veins that crept across his nose. And last of all, Simon saw the great misery in his eyes. The all-encompassing anxiety.

‘Simon, do you think I do not know what danger Jeanne and my children are in? Despenser is the most powerful baron in the country. He has the King’s ear. They could easily destroy me and mine in a moment. But what else could I do? Back down and agree to find nothing? What would the King say, were I to tell him that? Or I could tell Despenser that I would actively do nothing, in which case he would own me and be able to tell the King that I had lied to him. I could do nothing other than what I did, unless I wanted to be owned, body and soul, by Despenser in the future.’

‘Our families, Baldwin,’ Simon whispered.

‘I know. But what would you have me tell him? That I’d support any lie, that I’d agree to have another man declared guilty, when perhaps he was innocent? That is the sort of sport in which Despenser revels. He would toy with us, find a man who had nothing to do with the killings, and have him hanged just for pure devilment. He is a man without compassion, Simon. All he knows is the abuse of power and how to force others to his will.’

‘So what can we do?’

Baldwin sighed and looked away. ‘My fear, my great fear, is that he was directly responsible. He is the sort of man who would have a multitude of assassins at his beck and call. He can give them money, and he can protect them. If one was found out and arrested, Despenser could use bribery or coercion to have him released. Who else would know where to find a man like that dead one? And then, as you said before, the symbol of the tarse shoved in his mouth — that to me looks like a warning. To the man who is the power behind the throne.’

‘But you told me …’

‘Simon, old friend, you were talking in front of the Coroner. He is a stranger. He could be an ally of Despenser, for all we know. It was dangerous to speak frankly in his company.’

Simon privately thought it was a great deal less dangerous than talking back to Despenser as he had just done.

‘I am sorry,’ the knight said quietly. ‘I wish to God that we had never come here. I knew it would be dangerous.’

‘You never wanted to come.’

‘No, but the Bishop persuaded me. I thought, looking at him, listening to him, that it was not possible not to come. The way that the Queen was being treated was too deplorable. I felt I ought to make an effort — that was why I agreed to come to London. It is not a parliament with the representatives of all estates, it is to be a council. But that itself means that each voice will have more authority. I thought I could make a difference, Simon. And the only difference I am likely to make is to alienate my family from the King. Sweet Jesus !’ He clenched his fist. ‘I was a fool, and now I’ve upset the King’s best friend.’

There was no need for words. All knew how the Despenser was likely to treat an enemy. Simon cleared his throat. ‘Well, we’re still alive for now. Surely the best thing for us to do would be to find the blood, if we can. I don’t know — perhaps if we discover the answer to the killings, we may also find some arrows we can fire back at Sir Hugh le Despenser and protect ourselves?’

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said. He stared at the ground.

The rain was steadily worsening. Already little puddles were forming on the thinner gravel, and Simon could feel a rivulet trickling down between his shoulders. He rubbed a hand through his hair and pulled his hood over his head. ‘Come, old friend. Standing here will serve no useful purpose.’

‘Where could he have died, though?’

‘Baldwin, I do not know. Christ’s pains, perhaps we were right about the chapel? It would explain why Sir Hugh and his man were so interested when we arrived there.’

‘True.’

It would have been good if he was right. Sadly, the two had only chosen that position because they had seen the shadow of the man listening to them and following them. The dim light from the windows had at least served that useful purpose. And when Simon saw the door, he had thought to draw out the spy. It had worked, but there was no indication that a body had lain there, nor that a man had been dragged from the place.

They found a small shed which had an open door, and sheltered inside. ‘It would be ironic if that was where the man was killed,’ Baldwin said musingly.

‘Perhaps it will grow more obvious as we discover more about the killing.’