Dispensation of Death: (Knights Templar 23) (37 page)

‘Yes, I heard about it. A thief there had stolen a horse of mine. My men found it as they tried to put out the fires. I hope you will have held an inquest on the dead and issued the usual fines. But more serious is an attempted assassination against the King’s own adviser. What are you to do about that?’

‘About the attempt on your life? What should I do?’

‘You are the Coroner! Do your job!’

‘My “job”, as you term it, is to record all cases of sudden death, to note the methods by which death occurred, and to hold those records until a man can be put on the county before the jury. I am no investigating angel.’

‘Then who is?’

‘If you want a man to seek out a killer, you should ask the good Keeper of the King’s Peace to do so. He has a good deal of investigative experience, and I am sure you know him well enough to engage his aid.’

‘What are you talking about!’ Despenser spat. ‘I hardly know the man!’

Sir John smiled cynically. ‘Of course not. You are mere acquaintances. No matter – I need to speak to you about the death at the inn. Your men were seen there.’

‘I told you. A known horse-thief had taken one of my horses. My men went to retrieve it.’

‘I have been told that they were seen tormenting the innkeeper and then firing the place.’

‘You’ll find no witnesses to give any evidence to that. They were mistaken, clearly. No man of mine would do that. Now, if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to.’

‘I see.’

‘However, Coroner, if you want to be useful to the King, you should seek to find out who could have sent that crossbowman. He might have been intending to harm the King, you realise?’

Sir John bowed, keeping his eyes on the man all the while, and as Sir Hugh stalked away, he wondered aloud: ‘So, was he lying again, or was he telling the truth this time, and you are not really a companion of his, Sir Baldwin?’

William Pilk was satisfied with the efforts of the last day or two. He had successfully carried out my Lord Despenser’s command about razing the inn to the ground, and now he was assured of an improved position at the next opportunity. What with money and promotion, he felt much was all right with the world.

Ellis was at the alehouse by the gatehouse as William walked past, and he shouted to William, ‘Hey! Where’s Sir Hugh?’

‘You talking to me?’ William returned disdainfully.

Ellis was unused to being challenged. ‘Yes, you
pilcock
. Where is he?’

‘He has been having talks with the King. I think he’s still there now.’

‘Has he asked for me?’

‘No. He has enough men about him already.’

Ellis peered at him disbelievingly. This timid little arse was being cheeky. ‘Hey, are you pissed or what?’ he asked.

William looked at the alehouse and then down meaningfully at the pot in Ellis’s hand. ‘No. Are
you
?’

‘Why – you little
shit
!’

Ellis hurled his pot at William, and as the latter lifted a hand to shield himself, Ellis was up on his feet and hurtling straight at him, fists already bunched.

William had no time to wipe the ale from his eyes before the first punch hit him. It knocked him backwards, and he fell over a loose cobble. Looking up, Ellis was nearly on him, and Pilk rolled quickly away at the last moment. Ellis blundered by, trying to change direction, but too late. As he went, William Pilk reached out and caught his ankle. He gave a twist and Ellis uttered a shriek.

William rose to his feet, wiping his face. Ellis too, more cautious this time, going gently on his right leg where the pain was shooting up from a badly twisted ankle.

At William’s side was a stall where a fishmonger had a display of fish from the sea and the Thames. He picked up a whole eel, and as Ellis came on again, he flicked it
like a whip. The head struck Ellis in the eye, and he had to turn his face away even as William vaulted towards him and wrapped the thing about Ellis’s throat, pulling as hard as he could.

Foolish! It was slippery in his fist. Ellis jerked and strained, and reached over his head to grab at William’s nose. William felt as though it was going to be wrenched from his face, and let go the fish to save it. Immediately an elbow slammed back towards him. It just missed his belly, but his flank felt like a donkey had kicked him.

It put Ellis off-balance, though. William gathered both fists together and swung them at his opponent’s face. They pounded into his temple by the already swelling eye, and Ellis fell back, shocked. William went in closer, and clubbed his nose. There was a crunch of gristle, and he was enjoying the sight of all that blood spraying around when he felt a sudden explosion in his abdomen.

He curled up, bent double, eyes wide as his lungs screamed for air, air he couldn’t possibly take in. While he gasped, Ellis stood, shaking blood from his face. His fist bounced wildly from the back of William’s skull. It was a glancing blow, but enough to topple him to the ground. And then Ellis began to kick. He had two good boots into the kidneys and then clipped William’s head once, before a slamming blow struck his own head and he paused. While he reflected, the cudgel crashed into his head again, and he fell to his knees.

‘I think you ought to stay there a moment and reflect,’ Coroner John said happily. He swung the cudgel on the little thong that encircled his wrist, but seeing that there was little likelihood of the squirming, choking and
weeping William returning to the fray any more than the dazed Ellis, he took the thong from his wrist and tossed it gently back towards the innkeeper.

‘Don’t think they’ll be any more bother,’ he said. ‘You two, I suggest you buy each other an ale and make up your differences before my Lord Despenser sees you. He won’t be too happy to see his two best boys beating each other up like this, will he?’

He saw that Ellis was staring at him now with a fury that was only matched by William Pilk’s as he gazed at Ellis, but the Coroner was unconcerned. Their master was a threat to him, certainly, but these two were hardly the kind to give him sleepless nights. They would only attack him were their master to consider him a threat, and sadly the Coroner knew he was nothing of the sort. Who would dare to be a threat to Sir Hugh le Despenser?

Sir Baldwin and his friend were a curious pair. It was plain enough that neither of them trusted him. It was a little hurtful, but understandable in this madhouse of intrigue. Even after Sir Hugh’s words, John didn’t trust Simon and Baldwin yet, either.

Coroner John was soon in the little chamber where before, he had studied the body of the first assassin with Sir Baldwin. Today, standing there alone, he winced at the sight of the arrow through the second man’s eye. To facilitate moving the corpse, someone had snapped the arrow off about six inches from his ruined eyeball, and the red stick protruded like an obscene stem.

‘Who are you?’ he muttered. It was wrong for him to be here. All was wrong, though. There should have been an inquest on the man in the yard when he was found there, with witnesses enrolled on the Coroner’s records. If truth be told, the yard should have been closed, and all those in there at the time should have been held. But who was going to force the King to adhere to every aspect of his own laws? No one, was the short answer to that question.

He started undressing the body, seeing what he could learn. The clothing was simple enough. It was a thick woollen material, closely stitched. There was nothing to learn from that. When he pulled the man’s belt off, though, he was impressed by the quality of the dagger. It was expensive workmanship.

‘What are you doing with this?’ he asked. He continued taking things from the body, but it was only as he got to the man’s underclothes that he found the little leather purse dangling from his neck, inside his shirt. It contained more than a pound in coin.

‘Little enough here to justify dying, my friend,’ he said sadly as he pocketed a shilling. ‘Compensation for bribing Arch’s gaoler,’ he explained to the corpse.

Baldwin found his way barred twice en route to the Queen. Guards who had stood aside the last time he and Simon came through here were either deliberately obstructive of him because they had decided they didn’t trust anyone, or they were being difficult because someone had told them to stop Sir Baldwin from getting to the Queen. Not to protect her, but to stop Baldwin from talking to her.

As it was, it took a long time before Simon and he could persuade the last of the guards to permit them to see her – and when they had passed the man, they found their way barred once more at the entrance to the chapel.

‘She’s at prayer just now.’

‘Good. Then we can wait outside the chapel for her,’ Baldwin said reasonably.

‘You should seek refreshment, Sir Baldwin. The King will return within the hour to continue his debate.’

‘Since when has a lowly guard been privy to such information?’

‘Since the King’s chief guard hurried past only a few moments before you arrived,’ the man said, deadpan.

Baldwin grinned. ‘Good fellow. I know your face.
Weren’t you somewhere else, last time we spoke?’

‘I am Richard Blaket, Sir Baldwin. Last time you saw me I was in the garden with Her Majesty.’

‘Of course. Well, good Master Richard, I still wish to visit the Queen. I have news for her.’

‘I have been told to keep all from her. It is for her safety.’

Baldwin’s temper was already frayed, and now he felt his face flush. ‘You suggest that I am a threat to Her Majesty?’

That earned him a direct look. ‘No, I don’t think so. I should recognise an assassin.’

‘Good. I do have information which may be of use to her, to help the Queen protect herself.’

‘I think she already knows how to do that,’ the man said lightly, as though he knew something they did not.

‘What do you make of that?’ Simon asked as they marched away.

‘He is a fool,’ Baldwin snapped. ‘Damn his soul! Who does he think he is, to prevent me, a knight, from seeing the Queen?’

‘A man who takes his duty seriously,’ Simon said. ‘Come, Baldwin, how would you feel if he had let anyone in to see her after the other evening? If a guard is to do his job well, he must assume that any man approaching is a potential enemy. Why should he consider you any less of a risk than another?’

‘I am a knight!’

Simon was very tempted to remind him that so was Sir Hugh, but forbore. ‘What now? Is there anything else we
can achieve here?’ Simon wondered aloud as they strode along the corridors.

‘I would learn who was the killer of the assassin and the girl, and who told that man to seek them. There must be a reason why Mabilla was killed. Who could have done that?’

‘And don’t forget the innkeeper,’ Simon said.

Baldwin shook his head, then stopped suddenly. ‘Simon, we can do
nothing
in all probability. You understand? That man was certainly killed at the command of Sir Hugh – probably because he learned what we found there. Henry and his wife are dead because of our investigation.’

‘It is not our fault we sought where Jack had lived, and found his inn.’

‘But it is possible that the assassin was commanded to kill the Queen by Despenser, and that Mabilla died because of him too. Whichever way you look at it, Despenser is in the middle, like a spider at the centre of a web.’

‘And yet someone else killed the Despenser’s assassin, and may have killed Mabilla too.’

‘But why did the assassin’s killer not claim his reward?’

Simon was suddenly stilled. ‘Christ’s bones! Because the man who killed Jack knew full well that he’d be killed too if his deed was discovered.’

‘How so?’

‘Anyone finding a stranger would raise the alarm. The assassin was killed out of hand, with no alarm.’

‘Because he wanted peace to kill Mabilla?’

‘Perhaps. But a guard, or some other legitimate person who killed an assassin bent on killing the Queen, would expect a reward. He could say that Jack killed Mabilla
first
, and then he killed Jack in his turn.’

‘True. So?’

‘So the man knew that admitting to killing Jack would put him in danger. He knew the Despenser was behind Jack, that was why he cut off Jack’s prick and shoved it in his mouth. So he daren’t confess. Despenser would be furious about that, as well as losing his best killer. He’d be sure to execute anyone who admitted it.’

‘We shall need to discuss this further,’ Baldwin said.

There were footsteps, and he held up his hand when Simon opened his mouth to speak. The approaching man turned out to be Despenser; he looked quickly from one to the other, not with fear, but with that vigilance that told he was aware that he might be in danger. Still, he was no coward.

‘Ho, Sir Baldwin. Are you here to ambush me? So you incline your head, eh? No more than should be necessary to a knight – we are equals theoretically, after all.’

‘Sir Hugh, you have no henchmen with you after what happened yesterday?’

‘Inside the palace here I feel safe enough,’ he lied.

‘Even after that man Jack atte Hedge got in? I am surprised.’ Baldwin glanced behind him at the way he had come. ‘You have been seeing the Queen? I had thought she was in her chapel. But perhaps you were joining her in her chapel for prayers?’

‘You sound bitter.’

‘I was waiting to see her, but the guard refused me access.’

‘A good thing too. I do not want her being interrupted by any petitioners. She had a terrible shock when the maid was killed.’

‘Did you know her?’

‘Mabilla? Yes, of course. She was the sister of my man, Ellis. I have known her many years, especially since recently she has been a member of my wife’s household.’

He had begun to walk towards the Great Hall again, and the others kept in step with him.

Baldwin said, ‘But that is interesting. Did you find her friendly?’

‘You suggest I may have shoved my hand up her skirts? Sir Baldwin, were I to do that, my wife would be most displeased. It is not the sort of behaviour which is expected of a knight. Well, not here or in London.’

‘Meaning that you would expect such rough treatment from a horny-handed rural fellow like me?’ Baldwin smiled. Simon could see that this smile never even tried to approach his eyes.