Paul Doherty - Prince of Darkness

Ranulf grinned and relaxed.

'However,' Corbett continued, clasping his sword belt around his waist, 'one thing I do remember is that the preacher was really a gentle man; he told my mother that Holy Mother Church merely wished to frighten its children except -' Corbett narrowed his eyes and looked through the doorway '- for murderers, those who slay, especially the sons of Cain who plot with ice-cold malice the destruction of someone they hate.' Corbett paused. 'This is what happened at Godstowe, Ranulf. First,' he ticked the points off on his finger, 'Lady Eleanor Belmont was murdered. Believe me, it was no accident but coolly planned and carefully calculated. Secondly, the aged nun, Dame Martha, was also murdered for what she knew. And somehow or other, I believe these murders are linked to the two corpses found in the forest nearby.' He stared seriously at Ranulf. 'I think it's time we had further words with our porter friend.'

'Master!'

'Yes?'

I haven't finished my wine.' Ranulf glared balefully.

Corbett smiled and leaned against the doorpost. 'I'll wait, Ranulf. But that's not your real problem, is it?'

Ranulf gulped from the goblet. 'No, Master Corbett, it isn't Who is the murderer?'

'God knows, Ranulf. The King? The Prince? Gaveston? That royal catamite would do anything.' Corbett sighed. 'Or the assassin could be one of the nuns, or even our good parish priest' He paused. 'You are ready?'

'As always, Master.'

Corbett smiled and they went across to the porter's lodge near the main gate. Surprisingly, the fellow was already up, squatting on a bench outside the door, sunning himself, a jack of ale cradled in his hands.

'Good morrow, Master Clerk.' The fellow squinted up and grinned conspiratorially at Ranulf. 'You wish to leave?'

'Good morrow to you too.' Corbett tapped the fellow's boot with his own. 'Yes, I wish to leave, and I want you to come and show us the place where those two corpses were found.'

'Which corpses?' The fellow glared at Ranulf.

Corbett leaned over and gripped the porter tightly by the shoulder. 'Don't play games with me,' he whispered 'About eighteen months ago, a young man and woman were found naked with their throats cut, in the forest. You later found the corpse of a small lap dog nearby. You took the collar, sold the jewels from it and buried the remains at the foot of a scaffold.' Corbett watched the man become frightened. 'Now,' he continued, 'you may not be a murderer but you are a thief. You stole from the dead, and failed to deliver certain information to the King's Justices or to the Sheriff. I am prepared to forget all that if you agree to join us for a stroll on this fine summer's day.'

The porter threw one venomous look at Ranulf, slammed the jack of ale down on the bench, grumblingly unlocked the postern door and led them out on to the white, dusty forest track which snaked between the trees down to Godstowe village. The porter walked ahead, Corbett and Ranulf strolled behind. The clerk stretched and sucked in the clear morning air.

'Why do we need to visit the place?' Ranulf moaned.

'Curiosity,' Corbett replied. As they turned a comer on the path, the clerk suddenly stopped and grasped Ranulf by the arm. 'Listen,' he hissed as the porter walked on oblivious to what was happening behind him. Ranulf strained his ears, trying to ignore the sounds of the forest, the chatter of the birds and the rustle of the wood creatures under the thick green bracken. Then he, too, heard it: the sound of footsteps slithering across the loose shale of the track. The porter stopped and turned. Corbett indicated with his hand for him to stand still and be silent. The footsteps drew nearer.

'I think I know who it is,' Corbett whispered.

They heard heavy breathing and a figure appeared round the corner, clothed in the grey garb of Godstowe Priory. Corbett glimpsed red cheeks and sparkling eyes behind the wimple.

'Dame Catherine!' he exclaimed.

The nun stopped, jumped, and gave a small cry, her fingers fluttering to her mouth.

'Dame Catherine, good morning.'

'Good morrow, Master Clerk,' the flustered nun replied. 'I am going…'

Corbett stepped out from beneath the trees. 'Don't lie, Sister. The Lady Amelia would never allow you to go wandering off by yourself. I am sure you have no business at the village.'

The nun's face blushed a deeper crimson. Ranulf appreciatively watched the woman's plump breasts rise and fall beneath her grey, woollen gown.

'You are following us,' Corbett declared. 'I glimpsed you out of the corner of my eye when I was talking to the porter.'

'I…' The nun looked away. 'Yes, I was following you,' she confessed. 'I saw you talking to the porter, then suddenly leave. I was curious.'

'Why?' Corbett asked.

Dame Catherine's face hardened. 'You have come into our priory to insinuate that evil deeds have been committed,' she snapped.

'That's because they have, Sister.' Corbett turned and angrily waved at the porter to stay where he was. 'I do not believe that Lady Eleanor fell downstairs. I am suspicious about old Martha drowning in her bath, and you may tell the Lady Amelia that I am now curious about the two corpses found in the forest nearby.' 'Oh!'

Corbett stepped closer.

'You heard about that?' Ranulf interrupted.

'Yes, we all did. I believe the Lady Amelia has told you everything we know.'

Corbett ran his fingers through his hair. 'What actually did the Lady Amelia tell us, Sister?' The clerk stared up at the clear blue sky. 'Come on,' he urged gendy. 'You left the priory this morning on her orders, so tell me what you and Sister Amelia know about the corpses in the forest. It will save further questioning.'

The nun shrugged. 'About eighteen months ago,' she answered, 'the two corpses were found. They were put in canvas sacks and taken to the church in Godstowe for burial. The Sheriff and coroner came to the village and held the Inquisicio Post Mortem but they found nothing except that two travellers fitting the dead persons' descriptions had passed through the village earlier in the day.' Dame Catherine made a face. 'As I said, they were found naked, murdered, and no one came to claim their bodies.'

'Where were they travelling to?'

'We don't know.'

'Were two such visitors expected at Godstowe?'

'No. We have many visitors but most of them have the Prioress' permission to come and visit relatives. No such guests were expected. I…' Dame Catherine stopped and straightened her wimple. I am responsible for the preparations for such visitors. The Sheriff asked me the same question and I gave him the same answer as I have you.'

'What then?'

Dame Catherine licked her dry lips. 'The Sheriff concluded as we did, that the two unfortunates were travellers on the road and were ambushed by outlaws.' She stared into the green darkness of the forest.' We have such wolfshead round here.' She smiled falsely at Corbett. 'You are going to the place where their bodies were found?'

'Yes, the porter agreed to take us there,' Corbett lied.

'I'd better…' Dame Catherine stammered. 'I'd better return.'

'Dame Catherine?'

'Yes, Master Clerk?'

'Did you like the Lady Eleanor?'

'She was a royal whore!' The nun spat the words out 'Make of it what you want Clerk, she should not have been sent to Godstowe!'

'Yet the Lady Prioress agreed?'

'The Lady Prioress is a law unto herself,' Dame Catherine spitefully added. 'She has her own rules. She owes her position to her father's services to the Prince many years ago.'

'You dislike the Lady Prioress?' Ranulf asked curiously.

'The Lady Amelia can be strict,' Dame Catherine answered carefully. 'She banished pets and festivities from the priory. She is most strict on where we go and limits the number of our visitors. She has forbidden hunting or hawking, and then -'