Paul Doherty - The Demon Archer

She took him through the rose garden towards the priory buildings.

‘I would like to see Lady Madeleine.’

‘Well, I know you haven’t come to see me. You’ll go, like the rest, to the guest house and wait for her there.’

Corbett plucked at her sleeve. The little nun stopped and peered up at him.

‘What is it, clerk?’

‘Why don’t you take me to the prioress?’

‘Lady Madeleine has her own house,’ Sister Veronica explained slowly as if Corbett was dim in wit. ‘She has her own house,’ she repeated. ‘Garden, stable and kitchen. No man is allowed in there.’

‘I’ll remember that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing. But, Sister Veronica, one more question? You remember the corpse of the young woman left at the postern gate?’

‘Of course I do. I heard the bell ring. I opened the gate and it was lying there.’

‘Naked?’

‘Oh no, wrapped in a grey blanket or cloak, I forget which.’

‘And who looked after it?’

‘Well, first, I sent a message to Lady Madeleine.’

‘And?’

‘She ordered the corpse to be brought into our death house. It’s a small building in our cemetery. One of the labourers picked it up and put it there. When our prioress graciously agreed to have it buried here, I washed the corpse and put it in one of our gowns; a short while later it was buried. Any more questions, master clerk?’

‘No, no, I haven’t.’

Sister Veronica strode on. She took Corbett round the church to a small, pleasant, two-storied building, through the wooden porch and into a large, whitewashed chamber. The guest room was stark and sparsely furnished. A large, black crucifix was fixed to one side of the window and a carving of St Hawisia to the other.

‘This is our rest room,’ she explained. ‘The prioress will probably see you here.’ Sister Veronica gestured at a stool before closing the door. ‘Sir down. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.’

A short while later Sister Veronica returned with a jug of mead and a small dish of sugar-coated pastries.

‘Lady Madeleine will see you when she can.’

Corbett wanted to question her further but Sister Veronica, despite her age, almost ran from the room, slamming the door behind her, so he picked up the jug of mead and went to the window to look out across the yard. He tried to make sense of everything he had learned this morning but he knew he would need Ranulf’s help to untangle the different strands. He was pleased with what he had found but now conceded he had made little progress. He knew who the Owlman was but how much closer was he to unmasking the murderer? Or was it a group of assassins? People who lived in Ashdown, hated Lord Henry and plotted together to destroy him? And, of course, there was de Craon and his party. But how could he question them? De Craon was an accredited French envoy who would be only too delighted to refuse to answer Corbett’s questions. Even if he did, Corbett mused as he sipped from the tankard, de Craon would scarcely tell him the truth.

‘You are here yet again, royal clerk.’

Startled, he turned round. Lady Madeleine had quietly opened the door and slipped into the room. He could tell he was not welcome from the way her fingers tapped the side of her white gown while the other hand played with the medallion round her neck.

‘More questions, clerk?’

Corbett slammed the jug down on the table.

‘Yes, my lady, more questions! Piers Gaveston has, by royal decree, been exiled from this kingdom. He has been banished under forfeiture. It is a serious violation of the law to offer such an exile refuge and security. So, don’t act the high lady with me. You, and Sir William, are guilty of a very grave offence. I believe your brother brought Gaveston from the coast. He allowed the exile to shelter in disguise at the tavern. Gaveston was later allowed into these grounds, yes, even into your own house.’

Lady Madeleine’s eyelids fluttered. She swallowed hard.

‘I am protected by Holy Mother Church!’ she rasped.

‘Don’t be ridiculous! I haven’t come to arrest you but I speak the truth. You sheltered Gaveston here, didn’t you? He came here on two occasions. He was seen entering your private chambers.’

‘Gaveston’s more woman than I!’ she retorted. ‘Everyone knows that!’ She sat on the bench. ‘The arrogant fool! He came across the grounds, like some troubadour. Who saw him?’

‘It’s best if I don’t tell you!’

Lady Madeleine sniffed noisily.

‘In our youth, Sir William and I were playmates of the young prince. Edward asked for Sir William’s protection and help and he gave it. I was drawn into the intrigue. The Prince of Wales sent a letter under his private seal, saying that when he became king he would not forget my help and assistance or that of the Blessed Hawisia’s shrine.’ She smiled thinly, took a string of Ave beads from a pocket in her robe, and threaded them through her fingers. ‘I told him how to come,’ she continued as if talking to herself. ‘You’ve seen my house. It’s built into the curtain wall of the priory with its own stables and yard. He could have arrived stealthily. But, oh no, Gaveston the young cock comes striding through, spurs clinking. He thought it was so amusing!’

‘And when the Prince came here?’

‘They met in the church; the Prince locked the door behind him. They were both in disguise. I told the good sisters they were stone masons, come here to look at possible building work. Edward then left, and shortly afterwards Gaveston followed.’

‘How many times?’

‘As you’ve said, clerk, twice he was seen, wasn’t he? And what are you going to do now? Send letters to Westminster?’

‘No, madam.’ Corbett pulled a stool across and sat down. ‘I’d like a mite more courtesy and co-operation.’

‘Over what?’

‘Your brother’s death.’

‘I know nothing of it. Henry was an arrogant fool.’

‘And the death of that young woman?’

‘I’ve told you all I know. Her corpse was left at our postern door, and I gave it Christian burial.’

‘Do you know she was probably travelling disguised as a man?’

Lady Madeleine shrugged. ‘What is that to do with me? We found her naked, we shrouded her, we buried her.’

‘Except for the cloak wrapped around her,’ Corbett added.

‘God knows where that is now, master clerk!’

‘And Pancius Cantrone?’ Corbett demanded. ‘The Italian physician. You know he has been killed? An arrow to the throat. His corpse was found on the edge of a marsh. He must have been murdered shortly after he left here.’

Lady Madeleine sighed noisily. ‘Sir Hugh, look at this priory. It’s an oasis of calm, of holiness: sure protection against the cruel world of Lord Henry and other men.’ She spat the words out. ‘I rarely leave the grounds. I am sorry for Cantrone’s death but how can I help?’

‘But you summoned him here?’

‘Yes, he was a very good physician. Sister Fidelis’ knuckles were swollen. I have told Lady Johanna the choir mistress to be more temperate in her dealings.’

‘Can I see Sister Fidelis now?’

‘If you wish. But why?’

‘When Cantrone left here,’ Corbett continued, ‘did you notice if he was carrying anything?’

‘Sir Hugh, I hardly knew the man. He came into the priory at our behest. I introduced him to our novice mistress, Lady Marcellina. She took him down to see Sister Fidelis. He examined her hands, recommended her treatment and, as customary, we gave him something to eat and drink, then he left. If you wish to speak to Lady Marcellina and Sister Fidelis I can arrange that. But there is little more I can say.’

Corbett scratched his head; he was tired and nothing made sense.