‘No one was, other than my steward, Margery and a few guards,’ said the Lady. ‘I recruited him fourteen years ago – offered him a lucrative post in exchange for spying on Badew. After all, only a fool does not monitor her enemies. And it worked. Why do you think Badew has never managed to do me any harm?’
Lichet was stunned. ‘Roos deceived his friends – and everyone here – for fourteen years?’
The Lady shrugged. ‘He was a clever man. Of course, he was never included in any sensitive castle business – one can never trust a man who betrays his friends. Yet he served me well enough, although he was coming to the end of his usefulness – Badew is getting too old for mischief.’
‘I beg to differ, madam,’ argued Lichet. ‘Why do you think Badew is here now? It is not to tell Marishal that his twins dispatched Talmach – Marishal already knows those rumours.’
‘Badew thought I was dead, and he came to dance on my grave,’ replied the Lady. ‘While Michaelhouse and Clare Hall came to see what I had left them in my will.’ She smiled haughtily at the scholars. ‘As I said, Roos served me well.’
‘He was kin to Margery,’ interjected Michael hastily, eager to move away from the awkward subject of their reason for visiting Clare. ‘Is that why you invited him to play Judas?’
The lady inclined her head. ‘The family connection meant he was more willing to listen to my proposal than he might otherwise have been. They were cousins and he loved her – perhaps more than he should have done, given that she was another man’s wife.’
‘His affection may have been reciprocated,’ said Michael, and produced the onyx rings. ‘He wore his around his neck, while hers was on her finger.’
The Lady frowned as she took them. ‘I remember hers. It is tawdry, and I once asked why she did not don a nicer one – she had plenty. She told me that it represented a penance. She confided no more and I did not press her, sensing it was something she was reluctant to divulge.’
‘I do not think they were fond of each other,’ said Lichet. His expression was sullen, and it was clear that he bitterly resented being left in the dark. ‘Whenever I saw them together, they were quarrelling.’
‘They did argue,’ acknowledged the Lady. ‘Indeed, Roos was the one person who could shake her from her gentle equanimity – something not even the twins could do, even at their worst.’
‘Do you know why Margery wanted him to come to Clare this time?’ asked Michael. ‘It was not for a council meeting – the next one is not until June, as you know.’
‘I have no idea,’ replied the Lady. ‘Perhaps Marishal can tell you, although you will have to wait until tomorrow, when Master Lichet’s potion has worn off. I imagine Roos was glad that you decided to accompany him here, though – he met Simon Freburn on the way home last time.’
‘And lost an ear,’ put in Lichet with a smirk.
The Lady was silent for a while, thinking. ‘I dislike what is happening in Clare,’ she said eventually. ‘Not just the murders of Margery and Roos, but the other deaths, too. You two have shown yourselves adept at unearthing secrets, so you will investigate those as well as Roos’s.’
‘I shall see they do,’ vowed Lichet. Then he glared at the two scholars. ‘Of course, when I told them to investigate Roos’s death, I also ordered them to report any findings directly to me, so as to spare you the unpleasantness of this sort of audience. I am sorry they chose to disobey me.’
‘Thank you for your concern, Lichet,’ said the Lady briskly. ‘However, from now on, I want Michaelhouse, Albon and you searching for answers. They are coming far too slowly for my liking, and I want this matter solved and settled before the Queen arrives.’
‘You want three investigations to run concurrently?’ asked Lichet uneasily. ‘That is not a good idea, madam. We will fall over each other in–’
‘Nonsense! A little competition is healthy. And to make matters more interesting, I shall offer a reward to the successful party. One hundred marks.’
It was a fortune, and Lichet’s eyes lit greedily. ‘Then I shall have it,’ he declared. ‘I am the one with the best mind.’
‘I am not sure it is wise to offer that sort of incentive, My Lady,’ objected Michael. ‘It may encourage a false solution from someone who just wants the money.’
‘Then you must ensure that yours is the right one, and that it is presented to me first,’ retorted the Lady. ‘However, no one will have anything until I am fully satisfied. And speaking of satisfaction, what is happening with my paroquets, Doctor? You promised to cure them, if you recall.’
‘Lichet refused to let him see them,’ replied Michael, before Bartholomew could tell her that he had done nothing of the kind.
The Lady scowled at the Red Devil, whose face was tight with fury at the revelation. ‘I shall thank you not to countermand my orders, Lichet. I do not tolerate insubordination. Do you hear?’
Her voice was loud, and several courtiers near the door grinned their delight at his discomfiture. He bowed stiffly and took his leave, evidently deciding that it was more prudent to retreat than stay and risk another. The Lady’s gimlet eye swivelled around to Bartholomew, and she flapped an impatient hand for him to help her to her feet.
‘As I cannot trust anyone to do what I ask, I suppose I must take you to see the birds myself,’ she grumbled. ‘I want them mended, and you may have five marks if you succeed.’
‘And you may have two marks for getting Lichet into trouble,’ whispered Ereswell to Michael, as he passed. ‘To go with the pig money that you have already won.’
Michael accepted the coins with a grin. ‘But keep your purse handy. I have not finished with your Red Devil yet. Not by a long way.’
The Oxford Tower was the shortest and oldest of the four turrets, and possessed the smallest, meanest rooms. Bartholomew recalled Ella saying that it was where the least important guests were usually housed – which had included the men from Clare Hall before they had decanted to the Swan. Its stairs were worn, and the doors to its chambers were so thick and sturdy that he found himself thinking that it would serve as a very good prison.
‘You forgot to ask the Lady if Lichet was with her at the time of the murders,’ he murmured as they followed her up the stairs.
‘I did not forget,’ Michael whispered back. ‘I just decided it would be better if Lichet was not there when I did it – prompting her into saying what he wants.’
‘I do not think there is much chance of that. She knows her own mind.’
‘Regardless, I shall ask her when we are alone – and when the occasion is right.’
The paroquets were on the top floor, so it took a while to reach them, as the Lady moved at a very stately pace. This suited Michael, who also disliked racing up steep and narrow staircases, and it gave Bartholomew time to dredge his memory for what little he knew about paroquets.
Fortunately, one of his teachers in Paris had owned one, so while no expert, he was not a complete stranger to the species. He recalled that the bird had been an unruly creature, which had learned bad habits far more quickly than good ones. It and its owner had been devoted to each other, and when he had last heard of them, both were living happily together, with the paroquet dictating their social life and terrorising the students.
‘What is wrong with your birds?’ he asked, during one of their several lengthy breathers. The Lady used these to gaze out of the windows, watching her retainers scurry about with a critical eye. The shirkers would no doubt receive a dressing-down later.
‘They eat vast quantities of food – more than is natural,’ she replied. ‘I am worried that it will adversely affect their health, and they are sweet creatures. I do not want them to sicken.’