Michael Jecks - Dispensation of Death

Coroner John nodded — although he was remembering the coins he had found in the dead bowman’s wallet. The sum had amounted to less than a pound. Hardly the King’s ransom that Sir Hugh’s enemies would have paid for his head.

But as he calculated, the door behind them all was kicked shut. ‘Who else would they have been aiming at, then, Sir Baldwin?’

Simon felt his hackles rise at the sound of that voice. Sir Hugh le Despenser had been standing at the door for some little while — how long Simon didn’t know — but it was plainly long enough for him to get a feel for what was being said.

‘Well? You have been making accusations against me with joyful abandonment. Am I the only person to miss the full depth of your ingenuity?’

Simon instinctively felt for the hilt of his sword as the man swaggered over to stand by the candles. He stood facing his accuser.

Baldwin nodded. ‘Very well, then. I know that you had your man Jack atte Hedge enter the grounds. I think that he knocked a guard, Arch, on the head and all but addled his brains. I believe that you had commanded him or another man to kill the maid Mabilla.’

‘My. Wasn’t I busy!’ Despenser observed coldly. He held a hand to the flame nearest him as though seeking the warmth.

‘However, after the death of Mabilla, you knew full well that your man might come to recognise your part in her murder. You did not wish him as an enemy within your household, so reluctantly you decided that the dead girl’s brother Ellis too must die.’

‘“Reluctantly” eh? You do me that honour, at least.’

‘A man like you will only reluctantly lose a competent and reliable servant like him,’ Baldwin said with confidence. ‘But the last days must have been disastrous for you. You lost Jack atte Hedge, then Ellis and William Pilk. At the same time you have lost your best spy on your wife and the Queen.’

‘You step too close to the brink, Sir Baldwin!’ Despenser hissed.

‘Yes,’ Baldwin smiled grimly. ‘I, who interpret the facts, may imperil my life, while you, who are responsible for all these deaths, may threaten me with impunity! But I am not finished, for you also comprehended your danger and sought to alleviate it somewhat. And how? By having a bowman execute your man Ellis. Except he missed his target, didn’t he? He was to have killed Ellis, and then you would have had him slain immediately. But no matter. When William Pilk saw him and called attention to him, Ellis ran to save you! What irony! He ran to save the man who had paid another to kill him. And then your guards on the walls slew the bowman, as you had anticipated. What, did you tell him that he would be able to escape safely because you had warned the guards to let him loose?’

‘This is all most fascinating,’ Despenser murmured. ‘Pray, what else am I guilty of? Perhaps I also caused the famine? Did I slay the officer in St Sardos and precipitate the war with France?’

‘Do not be flippant!’ Baldwin said. ‘You, who have been responsible for so many deaths, should at least show a little compassion and humility! Do you have nothing more to say?’

‘I have plenty to say. I say this is nonsense! I say that the tale is built upon your remorseless enmity to me and my people. You, Sir Baldwin, have tried to thwart my people all over the country. I know of you from old. And now you have created this fiction!’

As he spoke, he had removed himself to the other side of the great candle-holder, and Simon thought that he was moving in order to defend himself from attack. But then he took a small parchment strip from his scrip and held it to the flames. For a moment Simon wondered what he was doing, and then he gasped. ‘Baldwin, the indenture!’

‘This?’ Despenser smiled wide-eyed at Baldwin. ‘Did you want this? Ah, but it was a nothing.’

It had flamed like an oil-soaked cloth, flaring in a moment, and he dropped it quickly. But there was no point attempting to rescue it. As it landed on the ground it was clear enough that it would be ash before Simon or Baldwin could reach it. A few words might have been legible, but only a few.

‘Did you want it? Oh, I am sorry. It was only a scrap of mine,’ Despenser said, and now there was a harsher edge to his voice, ‘So, Sir Baldwin. What proof exactly do you have of my crimes? You allege that I had this man Jack working for me — I deny it; you say I had him killed — again, I deny it; you say I had Mabilla killed — that is nonsense; you suggest that I attempted to have my man Ellis killed — and all this without the slightest hint of proof. I am tempted to demand justice from the King for such disgraceful accusations. But no, I can afford to be lenient. You have much to learn about this little isle, Sir Baldwin. It will be a pleasure to witness your education. Do not mind if I leave you now. I do not think that there is any point in continuing this discussion.’

‘I shall carry on to find who …’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Despenser said with an elaborate yawn. ‘I am sure that you will, Sir Baldwin. Be careful, though. Such a task could prove to be a heavy cross to bear, eh?’ and he glanced at the sword sheathed at Baldwin’s hip. ‘Do we really wish to rake over old ashes?’

‘Well!’ Coroner John said when Sir Hugh was safely out of earshot. ‘I think, my Lords, that he has you by the short hairs. There’s little enough to be said, I think.’

‘I am sorry,’ Baldwin said. ‘I appear to have wasted your time.’

‘Yes. Well.’ Coroner John paused, shot a look at the Bishop, then held out his hand to Baldwin. ‘Friend. For all the good it will do, I would say that the Despenser was right. You have much to learn about this place. The Palace appears to be built on solid foundations, but in reality its bedrock is politics, and that means lies and deceit. Don’t worry yourself unduly, eh? Ach, what do I know? I’ll take my leave, lordings. My Lord Bishop.’

The Coroner nodded to Simon and Baldwin, made a cursory bow in the direction of the Bishop, and walked from the room.

He had misjudged the two men. They were no more dishonest than he himself. Perhaps less so.

After he left the room there was silence for a while.

‘Baldwin, I am sorry,’ Bishop Stapledon said. ‘Truly. I did not expect to-’

‘My Lord, you knew that piece of paper was the vital link between him and the assassin, yet you kept it back and gave it to him?’

‘I did.’

‘You had sworn to keep it safe for us,’ Simon pointed out, aghast. ‘Why did you give it to him ?’

‘Do you think it will be best for our Kingdom to be thrown into disarray just now?’ Bishop Stapledon demanded. ‘Look about you, gentles. Look at the King’s council. Did you see much by way of rational, logical debate? Was there much unanimity? Was there agreement? No! There was a bear-pit of dispute, and then Sir Hugh Despenser was able to close it down and bring matters to a reasonable conclusion. What would that scrap of paper have achieved?’

‘It could have brought a murderer to justice,’ Baldwin said with ponderous emphasis.

‘Do you think that one, or two, or three, or even four murders would justify removing the last baron capable of maintaining the realm? Sir Hugh is unique. He has the King’s ear. With his arguments, we may be able to renegotiate a truce with France. You think we can afford to lose such a man, just now when the whole of the King’s French territories are under threat? You would not destroy Sir Hugh, but you could bring him under such scrutiny that his ability to command men would be restricted, and then where would we be?’

‘My Lord, you justify his murders?’ Simon asked quietly.

‘No. I do not condone murder. But there are times when commanding a kingdom, when a man must look to the necessities of the ruler, not the ruled.’