Paul Doherty: Prince of Darkness

Agatha drew a little closer. Corbett noted she had lost some of her arrogance and was more watchful. She kept squarely in front of him, as if trying to block his view of what might be happening behind her.

'Let us say,' she replied quietly, 'that it happened as you described. I admit a cloak would not be missed, but a precious ring? Remember, the Lady Prioress found the corpse at the bottom of the stairs!'

'Of course you know that's a lie! The Lady Prioress, anxious about the whereabouts of the Lady Eleanor, left the refectory and went back to the darkened convent building. They found Lady Eleanor dead in her chamber and, concerned about the possible consequences, took her body to the foot of the stairs to make it look like an accident. It was dark, they were frightened, and would not notice the ring was missing. If anyone did, the logical explanation was that it had fallen off. Of course, they sent for you to help take the corpse back up to the chamber. That's when you thrust the ring back on to the dead woman's finger.' Corbett paused. 'Most subtle,' he added. 'You knew Lady Amelia would find the corpse and, for the good name of Godstowe, try to disguise Lady Eleanor's death as an accident You, an assassin, cleverly used innocent nuns such as Lady Amelia and Dame Martha to protect yourself. Whether they liked it or not, they became your accomplices; Lady Eleanor's death was made so confusing, no one would ever discover the truth.'

Corbett, now concerned by the smiling malevolence which confronted him, pulled the dagger from its sheath.

'That,' he continued, 'would have been the end of the matter, but Dame Martha had to chatter and threaten to talk to the Lady Prioress. Did you understand her riddle?'

Agatha smiled.

'You found killing her easy,' Corbett continued. 'Old Martha prepared a bath. She put up a screen and locked her chamber door. You, the ever caring sister, came along, probably with a bar of soap. The old nun gets out of the bath, leaving a trail of water on the floor as she unlocks the door. You give her the soap, chattering merrily as Dame Martha goes behind the screen back into the tub. She was an old lady, her death would have been quick. Perhaps you pulled her by the ankles, dragging her head beneath the water? Any sailor would ted you a swift inrush of water to the mouth and nose makes you speedily lose consciousness. You pick up the cake of soap and leave as quietly as you entered.'

Agatha nodded.

'Most logical,' she murmured. 'A concise, lucid description.' Her lips parted in a snarl. 'You should have taught at schools at Oxford.'

'And not come here,' Corbett added quickly. I upset your tittle plans, did I not? But, of course, others unwittingly protected you. Father Reynard, who sent messages to de Craon; Gaveston and his dogs; the Prince of Wales and his infatuation with his favourite. And, of course,' Corbett concluded bitterly, 'our most sovereign lord the King, with his penchant for mystery and secrecy.' Corbett walked towards her. I suppose,' he remarked drily, 'the only good deed you performed was to dissuade Lady Eleanor from taking the powders Gaveston sent her. The royal catamite must have been perplexed.' Agatha smiled.

'Yes, I did. I watched Gaveston and his meddling tricks. On no account could Lady Eleanor die of poisoning. Such powders might be traced. If the good lady had to die, there had to be no link with the Prince. A nice, subtle mystery which would keep everyone guessing.' She shrugged. 'Naturally, I had to watch de Craon as well.'

'But the rest?' Corbett asked. 'And the deaths of two nuns? Surely the King ordered none of these?'

Dame Agatha opened her hand.

'No dagger, Hugh,' she whispered. 'For what I did was on the King's instructions.' She thrust the yellowing piece of parchment at him. 'Read it!'

Corbett unrolled the small sheet of vellum and quickly scanned the contents.

'Edward by the Grace of God, etc., to all Sheriffs, Bailiffs, etc. The bearer of this document, Agatha de Courcy, must be given every aid and assistance for what she has done has been done for the sake of the Crown and the good of our realm.'

Corbett looked at the faded, secret seal of his royal master.

'To quote Pilate, My Lady, what has been written has been written.' He looked squarely at her. 'But it does not make it right. The King would not have ordered Lady Eleanor's murder.'

'It was necessary!' Agatha snapped. 'She was going to flee. My orders were quite explicit I was to stop the Deveril woman and proceed to Godstowe, do whatever was necessary to ensure Lady Eleanor did not embarrass the Crown or the English court.' She shook her head. 'Moreover, I was tired of this God-forsaken place. A whey-faced, pale-eyed, former mistress, and nuns more concerned with their own glory and bellies!'

'The Lady Prioress?' Corbett asked suddenly.

Agatha shook her head.

'She knows nothing.' She plucked the document deftly from Corbett's fingers. 'Now, Hugh, I must go.' She stood on tip-toe and kissed him gently on the cheek. 'Perhaps we will meet again. I hope so.' She smiled. 'Now you know the truth, the Lady Prioress is no longer needed and Ranulf must be getting as cold as I am.' She waved her hand, her fingers skimming his. 'Farewell!'

Corbett watched her disappear into the mist

'Ranulf!' he shouted. 'Ranulf!'

But only a grey, mocking silence answered him. Corbett tugged his cloak around him and strode back towards the priory building, not caring whether he shattered the peace of a convent where so many dark deeds had been committed.

'Ranulf!' he bawled. 'For God's sake, man!' He had almost reached the guest house door. 'Ranulf!' he roared, and was greeted by the clatter of footsteps on the stairs.

His servant followed by an even more wild-eyed Maltote, came tumbling down, carrying belts and cloaks.

'For God's sake, man!' Corbett shouted. 'You were supposed to fodow me.'

Ranulf, sleepy-eyed, stared anxiously back.

I meant to, Master. But Maltote fed asleep again. I tried to rouse him but I couldn't so I sat on the bed to pull my boots on and the next minute I, too, was asleep.'

Corbett closed his eyes. 'Ranulf, Ranulf,' he whispered. 'What, Master?'

'Nothing,' Corbett sighed. 'I just thank God Mistress Agatha did not know you were asleep. Look,' he continued, 'we must be gone soon. Break your fast and pack our bags. Make sure the horses are fed and settle what debts we owe. In an hour we will be back on the road again.'

And, ignoring his servant's muttered groans, Corbett went round to the priory church to Lady Amelia's lodgings. He found the Prioress alone in her chamber, the table before her strewn with manuscripts. She looked red-eyed and white-faced, slightly fearful and anxious. She rose as Corbett entered.

'Master Corbett,' she pleaded, I delivered your message.'

Corbett threw himself on to a bench beside the wall. 'Sit down, My Lady,' he said wearily. 'There will be no need for that. You have lost another member of your Order.

Dame Agatha will be leaving, if she has not gone already. I suggest you let her go in peace. Do not mention her name again or send angry letters to the Bishop.' 'What are you saying?'

'Dame Agatha was no nun.' Corbett smiled thinly.

'She was here for Lady Eleanor?'

'Yes,' Corbett replied. 'She was here, like I am, because of the Lady Eleanor. Dame Agatha was the key to all the deaths here at Godstowe.' He raised his hand to still the Lady Prioress's intended outburst. 'The least you know the better, My Lady. Dame Agatha is guilty though you, too, are not blameless.'

The Lady Prioress squirmed in her chair.

'What do you mean?'

'You know full well,' Corbett retorted. 'The Lady Eleanor was murdered because she was planning to flee Godstowe. Secret messages were left in her room and in the ruined oak tree between the priory church and the wall. You know it well. You should do – you wrote the messages and left them there.'