Paul Doherty - The Relic Murders

'Which of you?' Benjamin asked, studying their grinning faces. 'Can move as silently as a shadow? Stick a dagger into a man's back without him even hearing you come?'

A young man, his hair falling in lovelocks down to his shoulders, minced forward looking rather bashful. He had a thin face, clean-shaven, with bright red lips but his eyes were dead.

'I have been known to do that,' he offered. He grinned over his shoulder at his comrades.

'Then all of you,' Benjamin declared, 'apart from this young man, scatter throughout the house. Take a seat in each room. And you? Your name?' 'Robert,' 'Lovelocks' replied.

'Ah yes, Robert. Once this is done, see how near you can get to each of your comrades without being discovered.'

'And don't steal anything!' I shouted. 'I know you lot. A cozening gang, light-fingered…!' 'As if we would!' they all chorused back.

'Do as Shallot says!' Agrippa snapped. 'No, no, Sir Thomas.' Agrippa pressed Kempe back in his chair. 'Now is not the time to protest. Let us see what happens?'

The game began. Agrippa's men dispersed. Benjamin told Robert to count to one hundred but the fellow could only go to twenty before he became confused so I had to count for him and then he went hunting. Now 'Lovelocks' could move like a cat but the game soon ended. A shout from a chamber further down the gallery showed he had been apprehended. Benjamin called him and the rest back into the kitchen.

'It's impossible,' 'Lovelocks' declared. 'The floor is uneven. No footpad, not even a fellow with cloths around his boots, could move round this manor without being detected.' Agrippa thanked and dismissed them. 'Why all these games? This deception?' Kempe snapped.

Benjamin closed the doors. He went and sat at the far end of the table, with myself on his right.

'Deception, Sir Thomas?' he asked. 'Deception? How dare you sit there and talk about deception! Where is the Orb of Charlemagne?' Sir Thomas made to rise.

'Oh, sit down and don't look so aggrieved,' Benjamin mocked. 'You know full well what I'm talking about, Sir Thomas. The Orb of Charlemagne, the great relic?'

'Are you witless?' Kempe retorted, sliding back in his chair. 'It was stolen! Stolen from here. You were given the task of recovering it!'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous!' Benjamin snapped. 'How can I recover something that has not been stolen? You have the Orb of Charlemagne.' He pointed down the table. 'You, Sir Thomas. You've known where it is all the time, whilst we have been chasing moonbeams.' Sir Thomas made to rise again.

'No, you can't leave.' Agrippa took off his hat, running his fingers through his raven-black hair. 'You will stay. Sir Thomas. Your henchmen may be outside but so are mine.'

'You don't know, do you?' Benjamin asked Agrippa. 'Not even you, sir, know the truth of this. I am glad because that means Dearest Uncle is also innocent of any deception. Now, Sir Thomas, I shall tell you a story.' Kempe sulked in his chair.

'It won't take long,' Benjamin said. 'Our noble king was the proud owner of the Orb of Charlemagne. This precious relic had been in the hands of English kings since the time of Alfred. Now, although I love the King dearly, I recognise his anxiety: fourteen years on the throne and he has not produced a living male heir. He would not let so powerful a relic as the Orb be given away so lightly: it would not only be a betrayal of those ancestors who wore the crown of St Edward but also a source of power which the King needs in his daily prayers, that his wife Catherine of Aragon conceive and bear a son.' 'Be careful what you say, Daunbey,' Kempe warned.

'Oh, I'll be very careful,' Benjamin replied. 'I am not criticising the King but rather those who give him advice and counsel. For His Grace not only wants an heir, he also wants to humiliate the power of France. Emperor Charles V, nephew of our Queen Catherine of Aragon, has the fleets and armies to do this, and Henry asked for his support. In return instead of an alliance cemented by a marriage or division of the spoils, Charles made one demand, and one demand only: the return of the Orb of Charlemagne which, the Emperor believes, is rightfully his. Is that not true, Doctor?' Agrippa nodded. 'Agreed, agreed!'

'What could Henry do?' Benjamin continued. 'If he refused, he wouldn't get the ships and troops and would have made a powerful enemy. Of course, the Emperor's demand was made public, and throughout Christendom interest was reawakened in the Orb. France laid its claim, and so did the Papacy. Both these parties sent envoys to England to counter Imperial pressure on our noble King.'

'What has this to do with the theft of the Orb?' Kempe snapped.

'Everything,' Benjamin replied. 'Henry was now in a quandary. He sought advice. One of his councillors offered a subtle plot. A stratagem which would not only allow Henry to keep the Orb but also mock his enemies abroad and so enrich the Exchequer that England might not need foreign armies and ships.' 'Are you talking about me?' Kempe asked sardonically. 'If the cap fits!' I taunted. 'Wear it!'

'The plan laid before the King,' Benjamin declared, 'required precious metals and the work of a master goldsmith. Sir Hubert Berkeley was chosen and sworn to silence. The Orb was taken down to his shops where he was to make a replica. But, once Berkeley had finished one, how many more was he ordered to make? Eh, Sir Thomas? Two, three, four or five? After all, it would cost the King little: golden cups and precious ornaments litter the palaces but not hard cash. Golden artefacts were collected and melted down. The King's jewel house was raided for amethysts and precious stones. And so the replicas were ready. I am speaking the truth, am I not?' 'Finish your tale,' Kempe snarled. 'Oh, I'll finish it, Sir Thomas. But, in the end, you must tell the truth. Your plan was as follows. A replica Orb would be handed over to the Lord Egremont made out of genuine gold with precious stones. The work of a cunning goldsmith, it might have been years, if ever, before the Emperor realised he had been fooled. And if he did realise?' Benjamin shrugged. 'The English crown would protest its innocence, point out that the genuine Orb had left England and that what had happened to it after that was not their concern.' 'And the other replicas?' Agrippa asked.

'Ah well,' Benjamin smiled. 'Like a trader in a market, Henry had raised interest in the Orb, so why not satisfy it? However, the Imperial envoys had to be satisfied first: a replica Orb was moved here. One of your archers kept you informed and you rejoiced: the replica Orb had been accepted and was closely guarded. The Emperor Charles would be satisfied and the King would get his troops and Imperial gold. Nevertheless, the French were still in London and then matters took a comical turn. You, Sir Thomas, sold another replica to the French. Heaven knows what story you peddled?' Benjamin smoothed the top of the table with his fingers. 'Do you know, sir, I suspect the King does not really intend to go to war at all? He'll take Charon's gold and the vast profits he has made in selling these relics to replenish his coffers.' 'This is nonsense!' Kempe scoffed.

'No, it isn't,' Agrippa intervened. 'Our King has a subtle mind. He hates the Emperor Charles. His resentment of the Spanish alliance is only surpassed by his deep contempt for the King of France.' Agrippa spread his black gloved hands. 'What I say is not treason but the truth.'

"The King would love it,' I intervened. 'He has made fools of his fellow monarchs and a vast profit to boot.'

'Of course things went wrong,' Benjamin continued. 'When the Orb was stolen from Malevel, Henry was furious. Matters might become even more tangled if the Emperor learned that an Orb was now held by the French. The Emperor might even accuse Henry of stealing it himself in order that the French should have it.'