The question of Hubert, Abbot of Meaux, was another question entirely. What was he doing out? She could not deal with that just now.
‘Just tell me again,’ she invited, ‘nobody else crossed the bridge that night?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Thank you for your help.’ She gave him a coin and because the other fellow was still hanging about gave him one as well.
What would Athanasius make of all this? she wondered as she walked away. Maybe now the dagger had been recovered he would have no further interest in the unexplained murders of Cardinal Grizac’s acolyte and an esquire of the Duc de Berry.
**
She found the sentry at the other end of the bridge guarding the entry to Villeneuve. He was leaning over the parapet and looking thoughtfully into the rushing current ten feet below. She greeted him and he turned with a grimace. ‘Life’s short, domina. I could fall over this parapet and that would be that.’ He clicked his fingers to demonstrate the brevity of life. ‘So what can I do for you?’
She explained. ‘I’m trying to find out who crossed the bridge between matins and lauds this morning.’
‘I didn’t see the lad that got cut, if that’s what you’re asking. He didn’t come from over here.’
‘It’s the others I’m interested in.’
‘You won’t get much joy there, either, if you’re looking for somebody to blame. Nobody but cardinals and their hangers-on came back. The same ones that went over to dine early on.’
It had to be one of them.
‘Can you name them?’
‘I can indeed.’ He reeled off the same names as the other one, except that he gave Hubert’s abbey the French pronunciation. She wondered if that meant he had seen it written down.
‘Can you read?’ she asked.
He nodded, pleased with himself.
She could not help asking, ‘And has the Abbot of Meaux crossed over the bridge before?’
‘Never seen him before. I was told to expect him by Cardinal Fondi. He wrote his name down for me so I wouldn’t forget it but then he came over with him. I hear he’s in the running to be made a cardinal,’ he added, looking pleased at being the one to have the latest news.
Hildegard went cold. If true, this was proof - if she needed more of it - that Hubert was one of Clement’s men and an enemy of King Richard. ‘I expect it’s just a rumour,’ she murmured.
‘Not a bit of it. I hear it’ll be only days before they make the pronouncement.’
With no reason to linger on Villeneuve she walked leadenly back to the Avignon side.
**
To Athanasius. He was sitting up at his lectern again, looking much better than last time she had seen him. When she finished speaking he summed up in his usual dry, meticulous tones.
‘The involvement of the cardinals we must discount as too preposterous.’ He shot a sudden dark look at her as if inviting her to reveal what she knew about absconding miners.
He would not catch her out in an involuntary admission again. ‘The crucial point,’ she replied smoothly, ‘is the bell for lauds. Those who heard the argument near the bridge, the ferryman and the priest, say that the bell rang immediately after the argument. It must provide an alibi for the cardinals named by both sentries - and the abbot,’ she hastily added, ‘provided they all attended lauds. The distance is too great for anyone to have reached the Grande Chapelle in time.’
‘Nor would it be within their ethical code to murder anyone in cold blood.’ His expression did not change by as much as a flicker.
Hildegard thought of this man’s master and shuddered. Did he not know about the thousands massacred in Cesena?
‘That is a point,’ she replied in a neutral tone.
His piercing glance never left her face. He looked undecided as to how to take her response. Instead of letting it hold him back he launched a sudden riposte. ‘For what reason was the duc’s esquire on the bridge at that time of night? Did you find out?’
‘Was he on some errand?’ she countered.
Athanasius gave a thin smile. ‘If that is so the sentries on duty at the palace would have seen him leave.’
‘And they did not?’ Hildegard looked suitably astonished.
Athanasius said nothing.
‘I fear the whole thing is a mystery, magister.’
‘A mystery I am now sufficiently intrigued enough to attempt to solve. What will you do next?’
‘I? I will hope, magister. I will hope that sometime, somewhere, the murderer will accidentally betray himself so that by God’s good grace he may be punished.’
**
In fact she knew exactly what she was going to do next. No stone shall lie unturned. Reaching her cell, thankful to find it empty, she rummaged in her travel bag to find the plain brown wool kirtle she had worn as Mistress York on her pilgrimage to Compostela and now carried to cover such eventualities as this.
Quickly pulling it on over her Cistercian habit and then covering it with her cloak, she let herself out again and went down into the great courtyard.
The rain was back. Just as she was hurrying with her hood up towards the gate into the street she nearly bumped into Hubert de Courcy striding out of the courier’s office with something flapping in his hand.
He gripped her by the edge of her cloak to detain her.
‘Just the person I need to see. I have news from London.’ He held up a letter. ‘Bad news.’ He held her arm with some ferocity. ‘Hildegard, this is really bad news. I fear it heralds something even worse. I don’t yet know how to comprehend it.’
‘What is it?’
‘Mayor Brembre. Executed.’
‘What?’
‘Beheaded on Tower Green.’
‘On what pretext?’
‘Treason.’
‘But that’s nonsense!’
‘Of course it is. The wolves are truly circling. Meet me. We must discuss this at once.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘Last week. I have a fast courier direct from headquarters. London is in uproar.’
‘I was just going out on some other business,’ she explained, undecided what to do.
‘Can’t it wait?’
‘Of course.’
Together they hurried out of the rain to the steps leading inside the palace. He turned to her. ‘For the sake of your reputation,’ he remarked with some irony, ‘we shall meet in the loggia in half an hour by the bell where we may talk privately with no danger of intimacy. I’m just going to get out of these wet garments,’ he added.
A novice from the Order was hovering at the top of the steps. Hubert went up to him. ‘Ask my brothers to attend me in the loggia, will you?’
**
The meeting place Hubert had chosen was an ante chamber at the top of the main staircase. It was used whenever the pope wanted to show himself to the crowd gathered in the Court of Honour to receive his blessing. It had links to other parts of the palace, from the austere old palace to the newer more richly decorated one, and was busy enough to allow some conversation in private. With a high, flamboyantly carved ceiling in keeping with the latest ideas of the masons and, with its marble floor, it echoed to the footsteps of people passing from one part of the palace to the other.
As soon as she appeared Hubert led her to the far end to where a window niche afforded some privacy. He settled himself on the sill. Hildegard, keeping her distance, remained standing, waiting impatiently for his brother monks to turn up and thinking: and you are a future cardinal of Pope Clement. She could not look at him.
‘Why did Brembre not escape while he had the chance?’ she managed eventually.
Hubert, looked unexpecedly stunned by the news. ‘How could he foresee that the rule of law would be disregarded?’ he eventually ground out. ‘He had trust in it even though he didn’t always stick to it himself. No-one would expect the King’s Council to behave in this monstrous manner. Now everything is changed. The law means nothing.’ He got up and began to pace back and forth.