‘Which cannot be revealed,’ I taunted.
‘On the night before he was taken, he confessed to me after absolution that he’d killed all the Aquilae in the very same way you have described to me.’ Dunheved chewed the corner of his lip.
‘Check and check again,’ I whispered. ‘Every piece I move, you block. Oh, I know you, Brother. You’ll demand to be tried by Church courts, which are more lenient. You’ll claim your innocence and point to Gaveston, using the very evidence I have now supplied you with. You’ll cause enough confusion, sow enough doubt to nullify proceedings completely, and of course, the king would not like to see his confessor being exposed to public shame.’
‘More importantly, mistress,’ Dunheved pointed at me, ‘you could become a laughing stock, the wench who laid false accusation against the king’s own confessor.’
‘Be careful, Brother,’ Isabella whispered hoarsely. ‘Be very, very careful.’
‘Your grace,’ Dunheved murmured, ‘I’m simply saying what others would say. Gaveston killed his own for his own selfish reasons. He was totally bound up with himself. We all agree on that. He was evil and has now gone to his just reward. A man, your grace, let me remind you, who tried to betray you to the Scots, the king’s mortal enemies; who put your life and that of your unborn child at risk.’
‘And how will you account for Brother Eusebius?’ I accused. ‘Strange,’ I gestured at him, ‘in all our meetings you rarely asked me about him. At Tynemouth when I mentioned his death, you ignored me and abruptly asked about Kennington. Why, Brother? Did you feel guilty, or were you cautious lest any discussion might betray a mistake on your part? After all, you were nearly trapped when I went down to the charnel house. You had to flee, locking that trap door behind you. Brother, you were dismissive of me; I was someone to be patronised. A stupid snooping maid who could be frightened, as you tried to do when I went into the belfry after Lanercost’s death. You began to sound those bells.’
‘Brother!’ Isabella hissed. ‘Mathilde is of my household, my chamber!’
‘Poor Eusebius,’ I continued. ‘You considered him a fool, but he was sharper. He, in fact, gave you the idea for that mocking verse about the Aquilae flying so high. He mentioned to me how Theobald the lovesick novice tried to fly like an eagle. You befriended Eusebius, but he glimpsed things out of place. He nourished his own suspicious about you. Perhaps he hoped for more silver from you. He referred to himself as the bat and asked his prior if a bat could be more cunning than a dog. He was making a play on the name of your order: Domini Canes — Dogs or Hounds of the Lord. He also talked of lux et tenebrae — light and darkness — a reference to your secret ways, as well as to the black and white garb you wear. Eusebius thought he was safe. He revelled in the game. He etched a drawing on the wall of his closet in the bell tower: a bat and what looked like a hairy dog or leopard. In fact it was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A reference to you, because Eusebius was sure he’d glimpsed you hurrying through the Galilee Porch on the day Leygrave was killed. He turned menacing. You gave Leygrave the last rites. Eusebius was close by. He babbled to me, intimating that he knew more than he’d confessed. In fact he was secretly threatening you. You overheard and decided to silence his chattering tongue. You followed him down into the charnel house and crushed his skull with a bone. You removed from his tray any coins or medals you’d given him, including a button on a shard of cloth from the livery of the Beaumonts, and left that as a distraction.’ I shrugged. ‘The Beaumonts were a mere irritation, fearful of being distanced from the king and what he might be plotting regarding their precious estates in Scotland. They were only concerned about themselves. I nearly caught you that day down in the charnel house. Little wonder you joined me and Demontaigu to judge what progress I was making. Very subtle! To be the hunted who could join the hunters whenever he wished and discover what was being plotted.’ I sighed. ‘So, Brother, how do you plead about poor Eusebius?’
‘You have no real proof.’
‘True,’ I conceded, ‘as I have no real evidence you murdered the Pilgrim. He came here disguised as a Franciscan. He wanted to tell me a secret. You saw me talking to someone garbed as a friar. We later left the Priory and went down Pig Sty Alley to the Pot of Fire. Believe me, Brother, the murder you committed that evening was most callous. You considered the slaying of the Aquilae as just punishment. Brother Eusebius had to be silenced because of what he might have seen and heard, but the Pilgrim was mere chance. You were concerned lest some Franciscan here, apart from Eusebius, might also have seen or heard something untoward. You dared not strike at me or mine because of her grace, but the Pilgrim was a different matter. You took a crossbow and waited for us to return, to step into that pool of light. You killed the Pilgrim and slipped away. You murdered another human being for no other reason than just in case. .’
Dunheved shook his head and made to leave. Isabella whispered something hoarsely in a patois I could not understand, but I am sure she told him to go. The Dominican had lost some of his quiet arrogance. He rose and bowed to the queen.
‘Your grace, I beg you to excuse me.’
‘You are certainly excused, Brother.’
‘I would like words with Mistress Mathilde.’
‘If she wishes words with you alone, Brother, you may both withdraw, but Mathilde must return unscathed.’ She gestured quickly at me as a sign to go with Dunheved.
I did so, following him into the next enclosure of the rose garden. Behind me I heard the queen calling for her squires. Dunheved walked over to the wicket gate leading towards the Galilee Porch of the friary church. It was twilight, the hour of the bat. Flittering black shapes darted through the half-light. Dusk time, when the demons walk and the gargoyles and babewyns allegedly turn to flesh so as to prowl through the world of men. A fitting time to confront an assassin with a fair face and foul heart. Dunheved turned abruptly at the gate and peered at me.
‘What I did,’ his words came as a hiss, ‘was for the king, the Crown and the welfare of this realm.’
‘True, Brother, but it could have also been done by usage of law. The Aquilae might have provoked God’s vengeance, but helpless Eusebius, the poor Pilgrim, Kennington’s two retainers? More importantly, Brother,’ I stepped closer, ‘you relished your role. You enjoyed it. I doubt if this was the first time you’d killed. I am sure it will not be the last.’
‘The king would never believe you.’ Dunheved was now blustering. ‘Nor will any court, be it the king’s or the pope’s.’ He shook himself as if casting away any doubt or guilt. ‘I did God’s work.’
‘Which makes you truly dangerous, Brother. No man is more sinister than when he decides that God has selected him to deal out death and judgement according to His whim. You can go,’ I continued. ‘The king will not know, but God knows. You, Brother, revelled in wielding the power of life and death. You have moved from strength to strength, exulting in what you do and what you have done. You walk a gorgeous path of power, or so you think, but those you murdered glide through the dusk either side of you. One day they will hold you to account.’
‘Mathilde,’ Dunheved smirked, ‘you should have been a religious.’
‘Like you, Brother?’
Dunheved shrugged, mockingly blessed me and was gone.
I walked back to the queen. She dismissed her squires and patted the seat next to her.
‘Mathilde. You do have questions? I know you are brimming with them. Did I know? Dunheved told me in confidence what he’d learnt from Lanercost. He said for me to watch, as God would punish the Aquilae. I did not really care.’ Isabella played with a ring on her finger. ‘I could not voice, even to you, my worst suspicions. Was Gaveston really plotting my destruction? Above all,’ tears brimmed in those beautiful eyes, ‘was my husband? I decided to resist, to turn the king’s heart from Gaveston and his coven.’