The Elixir of Death

'So why do they eat them?' demanded Gwyn. 'What's the effect?'

'It varies a lot — some just send the devils to sleep, to dream of Nirvana or wherever they fancy spending eternity. Other drugs are said to give them lurid dreams or else make them fighting mad. I'm not an expert, but I've seen some strange goings-on out in Palestine, as I expect Sir John and yourself have experienced.'

Thomas was proud of his own scholarship and unwilling to surrender all the explanations to the monk, especially after his recent hurried researches in the library over the Chapter House.

'This 'hasish' gives rise to the hashishin, the common name for this murderous branch of the Nizari sect of the Shi'ites,' he said importantly. 'They have been slaying both their Sunni rivals and Christians — especially Crusaders — for years. They even had three attempts at Saladin himself!'

This was something de Wolfe knew about. 'Count Conrad de Montferrat, who was to be King of Jerusalem, was murdered by them when we were out there, Gwyn. Remember all that scandal?'

The Cornishman nodded. 'Two Saracens, dressed as Christian monks, stabbed him in the street. Didn't that bastard Philip of France try to put the blame on our King Richard, because he favoured someone else for the throne of Jerusalem?

John nodded. 'He also claimed that the Lionheart had sent hashishin after him, even all the way to France. He had a permanent bodyguard to protect himself.'

'But there was a letter sent by the Old Man of the Mountains, the chief of these hashishin, exonerating King Richard,' declared the all-knowing Thomas.

'Yes, and it was declared a forgery by the French!' added Rufus, determined not to be outdone.

De Wolfe scraped at his stubble before he spoke. 'Hilda said that this mad leader, Nizam, claimed that he was also there at Conrad's murder, as a back-up in case they failed.'

Nesta shuddered, and not just at the mention of Hilda's name. 'These people sound completely crazy!' she said. 'Are they always under the influence of this horrible stuff?' She pointed at the leather pouches on the table.

This time, Thomas got in before Rufus.

'I have read that members of this sect are persuaded into complete obedience to their master by being drugged, then taken to his hideout in the Syrian mountains, where they are given the best of food and the company of seductive women. Then they are sent out to kill certain targets, whereupon they are always slain themselves, but die gladly because they have been promised entry into a paradise where these promiscuous delights will last for eternity!'

'Sounds good to me!' jibed Gwyn, receiving an outraged punch on the arm from Nesta.

'But this terrible man and his accomplices surely had no such political ends when they came to England?' she asked, with wide-eyed concern.

'According to Richard de Revelle, who seems to have the best recollection of those awful hours at Bigbury, this Nizam was on a personal crusade of his own,' growled de Wolfe. 'Just before he was going to kill them all, he claimed that all his family had been butchered by Frankish and English knights during their retreat from the siege of Damascus, back in 'forty-eight.'

'That was a total disaster, like all of the Second Crusade,' cut in the monk quickly, with a sideways look at Thomas. 'I remember my father talking about it — his cousin was a bowman there. The whole enterprise was ill founded, a political and military triumph of ineptitude!'

'But why would this Turk come all the way to Devon on account of that?' persisted Nesta, whose curiosity was as insatiable as the monk's.

'According to Richard, he had sworn an oath to carry out his father's dying demand for revenge,' explained John. 'This Nizari sect spent years seeking the names of those who were at Damascus. Eventually this madman Nizam got himself to France, where it seems he murdered a whole series of either those who were at the siege or their descendants.' He stopped and took a long draught from his ale-pot. 'Then he managed to cross to England posing as an alchemist, using some far-fetched deceit about discovering the Elixir of Life.'

There was a pause while Thomas gave them a short lecture on alchemy and the Elixir of Life, which provoked Gwyn into a gaping yawn.

'Never mind all that!' cut in de Wolfe, irritably. 'I have the gravest doubts about such a tall story, but as they are all dead, there is little I can do about it.'

John had debated long and hard about whether to denounce his brother-in-law once again for involvement in some highly dubious scheme. He had taxed him about it in private when he had gone back to Revelstoke on the night of the drama at the old castle, but got nowhere with the crafty and evasive de Revelle. Richard freely admitted to being in partnership with Raymond de Blois in a venture to achieve the making of the Elixir of Life. On the defensive, conscious that his liberty or even life might depend upon convincing this incorruptible law officer, the former sheriff shed his usual contempt for John and was at his most persuasive.

De Wolfe had discussed the whole affair with Henry de Furnellis as soon as he returned to Exeter, giving him a somewhat selective account of what had happened near Bigbury. The sheriff, always willing to take the easier way out, agreed with him that they should give Hubert Waiter, the Chief Justiciar, a suitably edited version of the truth.

John tried to keep Richard de Revelle out of the story as much as possible, as when he had gone to Revelstoke, Matilda had beseeched him to protect her brother from further trouble. She had done this several times before, and in view of the narrow escape from a terrible death that both she and her brother had experienced, he agreed to do what he could for Richard.

In any event, he had no proof that de Revelle had been involved with any new scheme of Prince John's. The Scottish alchemist's story of the mysterious Raymond de Blois joining with Richard to fund a search for the Elixir of Life was far fetched, but no more unbelievable than converting Devon tin into solid gold. The only gold that had been found was the ornament around Nizam's neck and John had quietly given this to Hilda, with instructions that it be sold to a goldsmith and the money shared between the families of the Dawlish shipmen who the owner had murdered.

'He said he met this de Blois fellow in London,' John now related to the group in the Bush. 'De Revelle was very vague as to what he knew about the man or even where he came from. But I can't prove otherwise.'

'So where did these alchemists come from?' asked Nesta, pouring more ale for the men.

'Richard said that de Blois knew of an Arab who he had met in Syria, famed for his expertise in alchemy. This man claimed to be within sight of succeeding with the elixir, but needed more facilities, so de Blois paid for him to come to Normandy and then fetched him across on poor Thorgils' ship.'

'Sounds a bloody thin story to me,' grunted Gwyn. 'So how did the lord of Revelstoke come into this?' asked Rufus.

'He says he funded the supply of food, horses and apparatus for this place in the forest near Bigbury. That was his part of the deal, in exchange for splitting the proceeds of the elixir, when it was produced.'

'How did they get to be tucked away in this hideout?' asked the chaplain. 'Why all the secrecy?'

John shrugged. 'The explanation gets thinner and thinner! That land belongs to Henry de Vautortes, but he holds it as a sub-tenant from … guess who?'

Nesta looked at him blankly. 'Tell us, then,' she commanded.

'The Count of Mortain … Prince bloody John himself! But it's no crime to rent out a piece of useless land, so there's nothing I can do about it.'

Thomas, who had subsided after giving his sermon on alchemy, had another question. 'What about those two strange men, the Scotsman who poisoned the main villain — and that grotesque foreigner with no tongue?'

De Wolfe ran his hands through his dense black hair, smoothing it down to the back of his neck. He was getting weary and also anxious about what he had to do very soon.