Michael Jecks - Dispensation of Death

‘I intend to seek the man who could have sought to murder your Queen, my Lord,’ Sir Baldwin said flatly. ‘This is the task you gave me, and I will serve you as best I may.’

‘I told you I wanted the man who intended my friend here to be killed. That was the man I wanted you to find for me.’

‘And I said that your friend here had enough men of his own. The Queen suffers from the loss of her household. Who is to protect her?’

‘She has my protection!’ the King snapped.

Baldwin set his head slightly to one side and said nothing, but his manner was clear.

Sir Hugh intervened with acid in his tone. ‘You mean to accuse your King of deceit? You say that he seeks to harm his wife?’

Sir Baldwin looked at him. ‘No man could dream of such a thing! I merely state the obvious, my Lord. You have your household to protect you. The King’s household exists to serve him. Yet the Queen, who is the lady whose life must be in peril, has had all her guards dispersed, her friends and knights removed. She is little better than a petitioner at the court where she is supposed to rule. If a man were to make an attempt on her life again, it would be easy enough.’

‘My men guard her!’ Sir Hugh spat.

‘I am sure Her Ladyship would be comforted to know that,’ Sir Baldwin said expressionlessly.

‘You doubt his integrity?’ the King demanded. ‘Sir Hugh is my fondest companion. I trust him entirely.’

‘I am glad to hear it, Your Majesty.’

‘You disbelieve me?’

‘Your Majesty, no man could doubt your honour.’

‘That scarcely answers my question.’

Sir Baldwin said nothing, but his dark eyes changed subtly. Sir Hugh saw it: there was a sudden chill in them. All warmth left them, and all that remained was like the black ice that formed on the paved ways in winter. Even Sir Hugh was affected by them, and felt compelled to look over at the guards and make sure that they were all ready in case of an attack.

‘You are a bold fellow, Sir Baldwin.’

‘There are times when a man must choose integrity compared with living a lie, Your Majesty. I feel sure I would be uncomfortable behaving any other way.’

‘Yes. Perhaps you would,’ the King muttered. He subsided into his chair, and now his anger appeared to have left him. He studied the two men before him with a quizzical expression in his eyes. ‘What were you doing there? You sought to search her rooms. That doesn’t sound as though you were seeking to protect her — quite the opposite. Are you guilty of treason against your Queen, Sir Knight?’

There was a teasing note in his voice which Sir Hugh did not like to hear. ‘Your Majesty-’ he began.

‘Let him answer, Hugh. Does he look like a burglar to you? No. Nor the good Bailiff, I’ll be bound. Come, Sir Baldwin. Answer: do you mean her some harm?’

‘Your Majesty,’ Baldwin said, ‘I would never dream of harming her or you. I am a loyal servant of the Crown.’ He inclined his head. ‘If you have any doubts about me, you must immediately take away my writ to serve you as your Keeper of the King’s Peace in Devon.’

‘Come now!’ the King said a little testily. ‘If I was that worried, you wouldn’t still be standing here before me, Sir Baldwin. Plainly I do not distrust you altogether. No, I am inclined to believe you. But what were you doing in her rooms?’

‘I sought blood.’

‘Blood?’ The King’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

‘The assassin died somewhere. One of only a few places where I had not yet searched for his place of death was in the Queen’s chamber.’

‘And did you find it?’

‘I fear, Your Majesty, I was interrupted before I could complete my search. But I do not think I shall find anything there. There was nothing to indicate that there had been a fight. Surely wherever this man Jack atte Hedge was murdered, he will have left traces of his death.’

‘Perhaps. So you will not be feloniously persuading some mischievous Chaplain to grant you access to her rooms again?’

Baldwin allowed himself a small smile. ‘I rather think that my experiences tonight with your most efficient guards would put me off the idea of further enquiries.’

‘Good. Oh, rise, rise, all of you!’

They did so with relief. Simon always suffered from a bad back, and after bending for so long he was uncomfortably certain that he would soon be suffering again.

‘What will you do now?’ the King asked.

‘I think I am close to a decision on the matter of the murder.’

‘But have done nothing about the attempt on my good friend Sir Hugh’s life?’

Baldwin smiled. ‘I have discovered an interest in that too, my Liege.’

‘You have!’ the King exclaimed. ‘What tempted you to start to think of this?’

‘Naturally your desire to see me look into it, Your Majesty. That, and a chance comment from a man earlier. It has made me look at the matter afresh.’

‘Ah. Very good. You may leave us, then, and continue your search for the truth.’

Baldwin nudged Simon, and the three men backed away, bowing low. They managed to reach the door without stumbling, and once outside the room they looked at each other, Simon blowing out his cheeks as he sighed with relief. ‘Baldwin, Brother Peter, I thought I was going to have to compose a letter to Meg to say, “Farewell”!’

‘Come, Simon. Don’t exaggerate! There was little enough to fear in there.’

‘Little? When we were hauled in front of the King?’ Peter squeaked.

‘It was to be expected.’ Baldwin sighed. ‘Only it does mean that further investigation will be difficult. How can we learn where the assassin died if we cannot look in the King’s and Queen’s own chambers?’

Simon shot him a look. The guards were still close, but as he and Baldwin walked away from the last door, Chaplain Peter behind them, he leaned to the knight.

‘You mean you didn’t see?’

Baldwin was puzzled. ‘See what? I was looking at the King.’

‘On the floor beside the table, near Despenser’s foot. A large stain on the flags and carpet.’

‘Was it blood?’

‘I’d bet on it. That was where he died.’

‘Good. In that case we have almost all the chain of events in our hands, Simon,’ Baldwin said, and rubbed his hands together with glee.

Ellis was almost back at the palace when the man stopped him.

The fellow was young, and quite slim for a man-at-arms, but from the heraldry on his breast, he was a servant of Earl Edmund. He wasn’t the sort of man to upset, but Ellis didn’t care.

‘What?’ he demanded ungraciously.

‘A present. For your master from mine,’ the man said. ‘Do not open it yourself, though, it is for Sir Hugh le Despenser and him alone’

Ellis took the leather package and hefted it. It was quite heavy, for all that it was about the size and shape of a pig’s bladder. He jerked his head to have the man move out of his path, then strode onwards.

The gate was busy, as ever. There were always traders entering, politicians idling their way past, guards sitting and gossiping with pots of ale or wine, and the sound of thousands of men and women talking as loudly as possible, selling wares, shouting for attention, demanding people stop and consider their goods.

Not for him today, though. He had been sent to the Bishop’s house with an urgent mission, and now he had a gift for his master too. He shouldered his way through the crowds and out to the Green Yard gate. ‘For Sir Hugh le Despenser,’ he said, holding up the package, and was soon through.

He had been told to bring his message to the King’s chambers, so he made his way there now, easily getting past the different guards. All knew him. All worked for him. All were paid by him.