The King sat back with some astonishment. ‘You are sure of this?’
‘Quite certain, my Liege.’
‘Then you are to be congratulated, Sir Baldwin. What else?’
‘We have investigated the two deaths with all the sagacity at our command. It is certain sure that the assassin died somewhere here in your chambers, my Lord.’
‘What?’ the King growled. ‘You suggest that I had some part in the murder?’
‘My Lord, of course not. But he was an assassin. If he had been found in your chamber, what could be more natural than that your guards in here, or even your good friend Sir Hugh, should execute him as being a threat to your life?’
‘Sir Hugh? No. It was, I believe, one of my guards. Sir Baldwin, you are an astute fellow.’
‘I try to use the brains that the good Lord provided for me.’
‘And the woman Mabilla?’
Baldwin looked at the King. ‘Naturally, the assassin was too fearful to press his attack upon the Queen. The shrieks of the women unsettled him and drove him away. And by accident he happened upon your chamber.’
‘Where my men killed him. Then why did none of them tell me this?’
‘I should have expected them to have done so. After all, the man did bleed upon your floor-coverings. We noticed that earlier today.’
‘So I saw. The good Bailiff could scarce take his eyes from the spot,’ the King observed drily.
Simon had the grace to redden. He had thought no one could have seen how his attention was diverted to that patch.
‘My Lord, I am sure that if you recall that night, perhaps your men woke you to tell you of an attack thwarted somewhere out in the main hall, and then you went back to sleep. It all appeared as a dream.’
‘And if I do not recall such a thing?’
‘Then surely the tale I tell did not happen. And another man must be sought, one who had access to your chamber, one who could draw steel in your own room and slay a man.’
‘And if that were so?’
‘If that were so, my Lord, then it must become known that an assassin entered your chamber. He came so close to finding you, and to executing you in a black, treacherous act. Others in the land might think to themselves that it would be relatively easy to repeat the action of a solitary assassin and try to force their way into your rooms. And perhaps one, or two, or three men might die before the fourth achieved his aim. We do not wish for that. Better by far that we forget the precise location and recall only that the body was discovered in the Great Hall.’
‘I can see that you would make a masterful diplomatist, Sir Baldwin.’
‘My Liege, I sincerely hope not!’ Baldwin said with feeling.
Sir John perched himself on the bench on which the headless body of Piers was resting, arms folded, and peered down at the head, resting on its cheek a few inches away from the torso. He reached over and drew the head down until the stub of ligament and muscle met with those of the torso. It rolled a little, and rested unmatched once more.
‘Sir John, I am glad you could come here,’ Sir Baldwin said a few moments later, the door rattling on its ancient hinges. He waited until Simon had come in, before slamming the door shut once more. ‘What a miserable place this is!’
‘I have known worse,’ Sir John noted, glancing up at the roof. ‘At least it is dry.’
Baldwin did not enlighten him. He had been thinking of the whole of Thorney Island, perhaps extending as far as the city of London itself.
‘This man. You know who he was?’ Sir John asked. When they shook their heads, he continued, ‘Piers de Wrotham. A minor player in this arena, he was a political fellow, who spent his life advising Earl Edmund. However, today the good Earl learned that Piers was receiving instructions from Sir Hugh le Despenser before advising the Earl. Sir Edmund made a gift of his head to the knight, and now he’s running from the King’s ire. I think he will go into exile in all likelihood.’
‘And justice will have been served,’ Baldwin said with disgust.
‘Do not be angry, Sir Baldwin. I have learned that anger at injustice wins little reward. No, it is better to be resilient in the face of such treatment. We do our jobs, we record our facts, and we try to keep our hearts disconnected from the miserable truth of the mundane nature of the cruelty inflicted upon the men and women of our realm. There are some, like this one here,’ he said, looking down at Piers’s head once more, ‘whose death I cannot mourn, because he was one of those who caused much of the sorrow. But others, others I mourn. The ones who have been mistreated and only seek a little compensation, the ones who’ve been robbed and seen their livings destroyed by the harsh greed of the barons. There are many who deserve sympathy.’
‘Does this Piers not deserve justice?’ Simon demanded.
‘Aye. But the exile of the killer will be enough. The King may change his mind, I suppose, and allow Earl Edmund to return, but I doubt it. The fellow has lost the Crown its jewel in France. I don’t think he’ll ever be welcomed back. This was the last sugary coating on the cake of his misdeeds.’
‘What of the other deaths?’
‘What of them? The innocents will go unavenged, I fear. The assassin — well, I am less concerned about him. But I would like to know the truth of his death. And I would be glad to see the killers of the innkeeper at the Swan brought to justice.’
‘They are already at the bar before God and answering for their crimes, I feel sure,’ Baldwin said, and told him about the fight between Ellis and the others in the New Palace Yard. ‘William Pilk and he were slain. I am sure that one or both were responsible, under Sir Hugh, for the murder of Henry and his wife.’
‘What of the killings here? Mabilla and the man?’
Baldwin nodded towards the carpet standing rolled at the wall. ‘If you look at that, it has a large bloody mess on it. I think that the assassin died on it. The rug came from the King’s own chamber. That was where Jack atte Hedge died.’
‘Good God! Why?’
‘Jack was told to come and kill the Queen. I am sure that Sir Hugh paid him for that. Sir Hugh also gave him a horse and had a formal agreement with him, an indenture. But he also had a spy in the Queen’s cloister. Not only his wife, but a woman who was reporting to him independently of his wife, just in case his amiable, kindly lady might grow fond of the Queen. He obviously feared that she might become disgusted with the task he had given her, that of gaoler. The spy was Mabilla.’
‘So the Queen had her killed?’
‘In a manner, yes. She told the Despenser that she wanted Mabilla removed. I think she probably made it clear in what way she wanted it to happen. And the Despenser was happy to comply with her demands, and even made the death a demonstration of his power, showing the Queen that whenever he wanted, he could strike at any in Isabella’s entourage — including, perhaps, herself.’
‘But he appeared quite shocked by the woman’s death.’
‘He would, though, wouldn’t he?’ Baldwin said. ‘The man is quite a consummate actor.’
‘I see,’ Sir John said. ‘But there are many gaps in your story, Sir Baldwin. If Despenser was to have killed the man, why do so in the King’s chamber? Why carry his body to the Great Hall to drop it behind the throne, and why commit that foul mutilation?’
‘True enough. But I fear you will have to enquire yourself about those aspects. I am only seeking to tell you the story as I understand it,’ Baldwin said.
Sir John nodded thoughtfully. Then he sprang lightly from the table, and addressed the two. ‘I thank you for the tale, in any case. It is quite entertaining.’
‘It is the only one you will have on the affair, I think,’ Baldwin said.
Later that night, Baldwin was lying back on his bed when Simon challenged him.
‘That was a whole cartload of garbage, wasn’t it?’
‘What was, Simon?’
‘The tale you gave to John. There was hardly any truth in it, was there?’
‘Simon, look at it this way: we set out to seek a killer, and in the end it became clear that the killer knew his way about the palace, that he was a man who could conceal himself, that he was someone known to Alicia, in all probability, and someone who was removing a woman whom the Queen wanted taken away.’