‘And Whitfield and Lebarge would go with her?’
‘Yes. Secretly, though. The accepted wisdom is that Whitfield was probably planning some pretend accident along the Thames: a slip down the steps, a fall from the quayside, a tumble from a barge, which would be portrayed as a possible suicide of a man whose wits gave way, whose soul fractured due to all his worries.’
‘And Lebarge?’
‘No one really worried about Lebarge, a mere servant, although I know he was more than that to Whitfield. In the end, he was just another man frightened out of his wits. I understand he too has died, poisoned whilst hiding in sanctuary.’
Athelstan nodded.
‘By whom?’
‘Heaven knows,’ Athelstan murmured, holding up a hand, ‘and that is the truth.’ The friar closed his eyes. Grindcobbe was being honest, at least about what concerned Whitfield, though he was being very cautious not to betray any secrets of the Upright Men. Athelstan opened his eyes. ‘So, Whitfield was pestered from every side?’
‘At first he told us not to bother him, that he was frightened; he had done enough for our cause. I am sure he made Stretton the same response. Don’t forget, Whitfield was wary of Arundel but he feared Thibault the most. He was terrified that Gaunt’s Master of Secrets would discover what he was going to do.’
‘You could have threatened to expose him.’
‘We did. Whitfield threatened us back with the cipher he held, not to mention other secrets. We compromised. We would let him go unscathed, providing he returned the cipher. I suspect he was planning to do this when death, in some form, brutally intervened.’ Grindcobbe leaned across the table.
‘Brother, Whitfield was not just a frightened clerk with a boot in either camp. I mentioned earlier about the flow of secret information across his chancery desk. I am sure he responded in kind to any threat from Stretton.’
‘Like some chess game,’ Athelstan murmured, ‘pieces thrust against each other.’
‘Precisely, Brother, and all Whitfield had to do was wait a short while, perhaps not more than a day. Mistress Elizabeth Cheyne would finish moving whatever else she wanted to take with her, and ensure all the moppets and the rest of her household had their secret instructions on what to take – not that such ladies have much to carry.’
‘And the members of your coven, the Upright Men would have gone with them?’
Grindcobbe just wagged a warning finger. ‘That does not concern you, Brother.’
‘But then Whitfield dies. Lebarge flees, panic-stricken, and it all comes to nothing. Mistress Elizabeth and everyone in the Golden Oliphant is now under strict instruction by the Lord High Coroner to remain where they are.’
‘True,’ Grindcobbe agreed, ‘Mistress Cheyne is deeply furious.’
‘Let her rage, Master Grindcobbe. Other matters do puzzle me. First, here’s Whitfield anxious, agitated, fearful, bound up with himself, so why did he offer to help Matthias Camoys try to discover the whereabouts of the Cross of Lothar?’
‘I have heard of that,’ Grindcobbe declared, ‘and of the mysterious carvings at the Golden Oliphant, but I cannot help; such a mummery does not concern me or mine.’
‘I wonder …’ Athelstan tapped on the table. ‘Those inscriptions, “Soli Invicto” and “IHSV”, are familiar. Yet, for the life of me, I cannot specifically recall why or what they are. “IHSV” is a Greek abbreviation for Jesus Christ, Son of God and Saviour. But why should Sir Reginald …?’
‘What else?’ Grindcobbe broke in testily.
‘Well, it’s obvious. If you are correct, and I accept that you are, Amaury Whitfield must have earned a great deal of silver and gold from you, Stretton and whoever else he did business with. Yet we found nothing of that treasure either on him or in his room, which makes me reflect on another problem. Whitfield hired a bleak chamber at the top of the house. He could have housed himself in more comfortable quarters on one of the galleries below. I am sure Mistress Cheyne has more luxurious accommodation for select guests. Whitfield, however, chose to climb very steep stairs – the one to the top gallery is especially long and arduous – why? To protect himself? To conceal something against an intruder who might find a lower chamber easier to break into through door or window? Was Whitfield guarding his ill-gained wealth, and if so, where is it now?’
‘Brother Athelstan, the hour is passing, I must be gone. I have demonstrated, as much as I can, my good faith. Now I must tell you the reason for this meeting.’ Grindcobbe moved the ale jug and platters from between them. ‘The Great Community of the Realm have decided they are ready. The chosen day is fast approaching. Once upon a time the leaders of the Upright Men were united. Now, as the stirring time approaches, sharp divisions have appeared. We have always protested our loyalty to the boy-king; it is his evil councillors we wish to remove and punish. I am personally loyal to Richard. I fought as a captain of hobelars for his father the Black Prince.’ Grindcobbe drew breath. ‘Cranston may already have some intelligence about what I am going to say; a similar warning has been despatched to the court party with one significant omission …’
‘What is all this?’
‘Brother Athelstan, may God be my witness, but I truly believe a most senior captain amongst the Upright Men intends to meet the young king and draw him into negotiation. This will only be a ploy to allay Richard’s suspicions before the captain kills him and all members of the royal party.’
‘Impossible!’
‘No, listen,’ Grindcobbe held up a hand, ‘there are some amongst the Upright Men who want the entire court party, all the lords spiritual and temporal, slaughtered. I and the others have always regarded them as hotheads, who could be restrained on the day.’
‘I am not too sure,’ Athelstan whispered. ‘Once the bloodletting begins, killing begets killing.’
‘True, but there’s more. This is my suspicion and mine only. I have very little proof; it is more conjecture than anything else. My Lord of Gaunt is quitting London for the northern march. He claims he must deal with Scottish incursions across the border. Nonsense! Why, I ask, is Gaunt leaving London and the southern shires when the young king and the royal family need both his protection and that of his troops?’
‘I agree.’
‘Hence my suspicion of a plot forged in Hell. One of our leading captains has been suborned by Gaunt with promises and assurances.’ Grindcobbe paused. Athelstan felt a fear grip his belly; he half suspected what Grindcobbe was about to say.
‘Gaunt wants the young king dead. He will then come hurrying south to crush the revolt. More importantly, if Richard dies he leaves no heir.’
‘And the Confessor’s crown,’ Athelstan murmured, ‘will go to the next in line, away from the Plantagenets, to John of Gaunt, uncle of the King, brother of the Black Prince, head of the House of Lancaster and next in line to the throne. Do you have proof of this?’
‘None, just a deep, gnawing apprehension as well as the whisperings of my most skilled spies.’
‘And so?’
‘Sir John Cranston may well be alerted to the warning I have already sent to the Queen Mother, but I did not voice my full suspicions. After all, not everybody in the court party can be trusted. Tell Cranston the threat is even more dangerous than he thinks. Young Richard must not meet any of our leaders, for if he does, royal blood will be shed.’
‘Why not accuse Gaunt publicly?’ Athelstan paused and sighed. ‘I can guess your response. If any specific allegation is laid, then where is the proof?’
Grindcobbe nodded in agreement.
‘I suppose,’ Athelstan continued, ‘Gaunt will be forewarned about what you know, whilst your spies who helped you reach this conclusion would be left vulnerable. In the end Gaunt would brush it off as just another devious stratagem to blacken his name and reputation. He would protest his innocence, his years of service, and then wait for some other occasion.’ Athelstan stared at the dancing candle-flame. Grindcobbe was telling the truth. The friar recalled Lebarge’s demand for a pardon for any crimes he may have committed or be accused of. If Whitfield knew the truth behind Grindcobbe’s allegation and shared it with Lebarge, little wonder both men were desperate and wished to flee for their lives: such knowledge was highly dangerous and could engulf them in the most heinous treason.