Michael Jecks - Dispensation of Death

‘And yet, if you send her there in the guise of a beggar, it will hardly reassure the French King that your intentions towards her are to be kindly upon her return.’

‘She is French, and our realm is in a state of suspended war with France,’ the King said harshly. ‘You expect me to reward the sister of my enemy?’

‘My Liege, of course not. But it would not be necessary to reward her, merely to return to her some of the estates and income which are presently denied to her. Elevate her to her correct station before sending her, or the service which she alone can do you might be irreparably damaged before she sails.’

‘She is unfaithful to me, her King!’

‘There is no evidence of that,’ Drokensford said repressively. All knew that his tone implied that there was much fault on the King’s part.

‘And what if she turns faithless while she is there?’

‘Hold back your son,’ Stapledon said. ‘Keep him safe here, and only when all is agreed do you send him to join her so he may swear fealty to King Charles. And when he goes, I shall go with him as your eyes and ears in the French court.’

‘You swear?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then let it be so!’

Baldwin left Blaket at the door to the Queen’s rooms and stood a moment deep in thought. ‘Come with me, old friend,’ he said at last, and led Simon back the way which they had taken earlier in the day.

Simon wondered what was making Baldwin frown so. ‘Blaket killed Mabilla, then?’

‘Apparently so — in order to provide a service to his mistress the Queen, and incidentally, perhaps, to protect his relationship with the Queen’s other maid: Alicia. Did you observe how closely that woman watched and listened all through the Queen’s speech just now?’

‘I only had eyes for the Queen,’ Simon admitted. ‘But what of it? At last we know who killed the girl.’

‘And we know who killed the assassin, Jack.’

‘You may. I do not.’

‘Oh, Simon. It must have been Despenser.’

‘Perhaps. Yet Bishop Walter was most insistent. I think he knew something. Perhaps the confessional … No matter. I am not convinced it was Sir Hugh.’

‘If it were not, then it was surely the only other man who had easy access to that room,’ Baldwin said.

‘There is only one such man.’

Baldwin nodded. ‘And I wish to see him briefly to ask him about that stain on his carpet.’

As they crossed a passage near the King’s chamber, they met a couple of servants carrying a rolled rug.

Baldwin stopped them. ‘Where did you get that from?’

‘The King. He said it has been stained and must be burned.’

‘Good fellow! You do not need to do that. Let me buy it from you.’

So saying, he dug in his purse for some coins and pressed them into the men’s hands. ‘Could you take the thing to the small hall out in the Green Yard?’

The two looked at each other. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Then do so, and I should be grateful if you could also seek out the Coroner to the household, a knight called John.’

That, it appeared, was still more easy to arrange.

‘What are you planning, Baldwin?’ Simon asked as they strode forward along the passage to the door to the King’s chamber.

‘Who is it now?’ King Edward demanded.

He had only just disposed of the two Bishops, and now there was another man come to visit him. As the door opened and his steward peeped out, he felt a rising resentment.

If he were at glorious Eltham or Winchester, or up in York, he could have entertained himself happily, traipsing about the land with peasants, helping them with their annual tasks of hedging and ditching, and joining in their little festivities afterwards. There was no one who understood the common people like him.

But no. Here in Thorney Island, he was a prisoner, held here in his cell while those who despised him dropped in to goggle at him and make their demands, while he must sit and nod and make polite conversation until they would leave him and the next ones would appear. He was no better off than Isabella, his Queen. At least she had all semblance of responsibility taken from her. In some ways he would be happy if their positions were reversed, if she were in power and authority, and he was resting in a small, quiet cloister with no one to pester him.

‘Who is it now?’ he repeated as his servant glanced back at him.

‘The Keeper and Bailiff Puttock, my Lord.’

The two rascals entered a moment later, both with their faces to the floor in a wholly respectable display.

‘Well?’ he demanded of them testily. Where the Bishops had been offered wine and seats, these two could remain standing.

‘My Lord, you asked me to tell you when I had successfully concluded my investigations into the murder of the assassin and the lady-in-waiting Mabilla.’

‘What of the attempt on my friend’s life?’

‘That we have resolved,’ Baldwin said. ‘Your friend is content, I believe, that there will be no more attacks from that quarter.’

The King sat back with some astonishment. ‘You are sure of this?’

‘Quite certain, my Liege.’

‘Then you are to be congratulated, Sir Baldwin. What else?’

‘We have investigated the two deaths with all the sagacity at our command. It is certain sure that the assassin died somewhere here in your chambers, my Lord.’

‘What?’ the King growled. ‘You suggest that I had some part in the murder?’

‘My Lord, of course not. But he was an assassin. If he had been found in your chamber, what could be more natural than that your guards in here, or even your good friend Sir Hugh, should execute him as being a threat to your life?’

‘Sir Hugh? No. It was, I believe, one of my guards. Sir Baldwin, you are an astute fellow.’

‘I try to use the brains that the good Lord provided for me.’

‘And the woman Mabilla?’

Baldwin looked at the King. ‘Naturally, the assassin was too fearful to press his attack upon the Queen. The shrieks of the women unsettled him and drove him away. And by accident he happened upon your chamber.’

‘Where my men killed him. Then why did none of them tell me this?’

‘I should have expected them to have done so. After all, the man did bleed upon your floor-coverings. We noticed that earlier today.’

‘So I saw. The good Bailiff could scarce take his eyes from the spot,’ the King observed drily.

Simon had the grace to redden. He had thought no one could have seen how his attention was diverted to that patch.

‘My Lord, I am sure that if you recall that night, perhaps your men woke you to tell you of an attack thwarted somewhere out in the main hall, and then you went back to sleep. It all appeared as a dream.’

‘And if I do not recall such a thing?’

‘Then surely the tale I tell did not happen. And another man must be sought, one who had access to your chamber, one who could draw steel in your own room and slay a man.’

‘And if that were so?’

‘If that were so, my Lord, then it must become known that an assassin entered your chamber. He came so close to finding you, and to executing you in a black, treacherous act. Others in the land might think to themselves that it would be relatively easy to repeat the action of a solitary assassin and try to force their way into your rooms. And perhaps one, or two, or three men might die before the fourth achieved his aim. We do not wish for that. Better by far that we forget the precise location and recall only that the body was discovered in the Great Hall.’

‘I can see that you would make a masterful diplomatist, Sir Baldwin.’

‘My Liege, I sincerely hope not!’ Baldwin said with feeling.