Jean saw that Arnaud was heading towards the northeastern point of the palace. There was a series of houses here in the suburboutside the city itself, and this looked to be a row of merchants’ properties. Two-storeyed, for the most part, they had shingledroofs and well-limewashed walls that made them gleam as much as the Louvre’s. In the summer, Jean thought, this area mustbe blinding. Everywhere would shine and sparkle.
It was to the second of the houses that Arnaud went. He knocked on the door, and quickly passed inside. Jean could hear thebeam being dropped over the door a moment later, and frowned to himself. He had no idea who lived there. After consideringfor a few moments, he turned and strolled idly to a shaded area beside another house in an alley that led to a dead end against the city wall. Leaning against the house so that he couldwatch the door which Arnaud had entered, he gave himself up to a lengthy wait.
Baldwin and Simon met Lord Cromwell at the Queen’s chamber.
‘She is well enough, Sir Baldwin. But I wish I knew where those devils had got to.’
‘We saw Sir John de Sapy just now, but he made it clear enough that he was going to continue to search for Mortimer,’ Baldwinsaid.
‘In the hall, was he? I shall go and see whether he will tell me where to find the others.’
‘You want us to remain here, then?’ Simon asked.
‘Yes, in God’s name! We must have someone here to protect the Queen.’
When he had hurried off, Simon and Baldwin took stock. There was a bench not far off which Baldwin soon appropriated for hisown purposes, dragging it nearer the Queen’s door and seating himself. Simon watched him with a smile, leaning against thewall with his arms folded. ‘Comfortable?’
Baldwin rested his back against the wall and allowed his eyes to close. ‘When you are as experienced in guarding as I, youwill know when to take advantage of a comfortable bench.’
‘So efficient guarding means having a sleep?’
Baldwin opened an eye and surveyed him glumly. ‘No. All too often it means staying awake all night. But when there are two,it is better that one stays alert while the second dozes. You can wake me at lunchtime.’
‘Oh, I am so grateful — so that you don’t miss your food, I suppose?’
‘Correct,’ Baldwin said smugly. ‘Now be silent. I wish to sleep.’
Simon grinned as the knight closed his eyes once more and settled himself. However, it was only a few moments before the dooropened and William de Bouden came from the room. He appeared startled to see the two men on guard, but soon recovered, noddingto Simon and studying Baldwin with some surprise.
A short while after his departure, Alicia appeared in the doorway. She nodded and smiled at Simon. ‘My lady would like somemusic. Could you send for her musicians?’
Simon soon found a servant and instructed him to find Ricard and the others. After only a few minutes, the men arrived andknocked on the door. Simon noticed that one appeared to be missing. ‘Isn’t there another drummer?’
‘If you mean the bodhran player, he’s not about just now.’
Simon shrugged. He was there to guard against men going in uninvited, rather than monitor men who were supposed to be thereand didn’t turn up. He watched the musicians trooping into the room, and resumed the tedious task of observation.
From here he could look straight into the main yard, or to his right along the narrow alleyway that led to William de Bouden’schamber. Of course William had disappeared inside now, and was no doubt already re-counting the gold and coins in his cheststo ensure that there would be enough to support the Queen during her lengthy stay here in Paris. It made Simon wonder howmuch longer they would be here. Of course they now had the Easter celebrations to look forward to. It was the most importantperiod in the Christian calendar, a time of feasting and fun, and that was enough to make Simon sigh. He missed his wife andthe children. As soon as he returned, he was sure, Edith, his little girl, would petition him for a day when she might marryher young man. That would be hard enough. But worse, just now, standing here so many miles from home, was the fact that he missed them all. He wantedto be with his wife Meg, he wanted to see his little boy — in God’s name, he just wanted to be home again. Enough of thiswandering about foreign lands. He wanted to be in Devon.
After Easter, how much longer would it take for them to complete these damned negotiations and turn for home again? Anotherfortnight? Another month? Dear God, there was no way of telling. And all the while, Baldwin was under the threat of death.
He was shaking his head, feeling an entirely untypical self-pity, when he happened to glance towards de Bouden’s door, andsaw a figure slipping out. It was the absent drummer, and Simon gave a fleeting frown, wondering whether the man could havebeen up to no good in de Bouden’s room, but then he saw de Bouden at the door, quietly closing it. So he hadn’t knocked deBouden on the head to steal some of the Queen’s money, then. But Simon watched the drummer walk away, wondering what the fellowhad been talking to de Bouden about.
Sir John de Sapy grunted to himself as he marched along the lanes and streets. The directions he had been given had been perfectlyclear, and soon enough he found the place. A pleasant house in a short lane near the river.
He knocked on the door, and soon a man answered. He glowered ferociously, but allowed Sir John inside, and led him along adark and noisome passageway to a rear door.
‘Out there. Second door on the left,’ he said, and walked away.
Sir John watched him go with his lip curled. It was disgusting that such a man should dare be so insolent, but it was sadlyall too common. Anyway, he had no time just now to teach him manners. He walked out into a broad courtyard. It was cobbled, and the building opposite looked like a stable area,but when he looked along the left he saw the doors. The first and third were closed, but the second was standing ajar, andhe walked to it and knocked.
When there was no answer, he pushed gently, and it squeaked softly on its hinges. There was nothing else for him to hear,but something in the atmosphere made his hackles rise. A shiver started in his breast and ran down his spine. ‘Someone walkingover my grave,’ he told himself, but not aloud.
There was no light inside. No candle illuminated the room. He stood at the door for a heartbeat, wondering what to do, andthen the stench came rolling out like a barrel of filth. It almost knocked him over.
He kicked at the door, and drew his sword as the door swung wide. And then he grunted with disgust as he took in the sightof the disembowelled figure set atop the table in the corner.
It was some while before the musicians began to leave the Queen’s chamber, all looking a little flustered and warm from theirexertions. Good for them, thought Simon, who was regretting not wearing his cloak after standing out here for so long.
The last to leave was their leader, who was whistling under his breath and flicking a coin in his hand: spinning it up, catchingit, spinning it up, catching it, while his boy watched, transfixed.
Simon shot out his hand and caught the coin in mid-air. The man gaped, while the boy gave a whimper, and darted behind theman, peering up at Simon with anxious, troubled eyes.
‘Hey, give that back!’ Ricard demanded. He put out his hand protectively to the boy’s head.
It was a livre Parisis, Simon saw. He tossed it back, winking at the lad. ‘Your friend, the other drummer. What’s he doing with the Queen’s Comptroller?’
Ricard looked away. ‘He should have been in there with us.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked. I saw him leave de Bouden’s place a little after you got here. Why was that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘He won’t say because he doesn’t want trouble.’
Simon turned to see who had spoken and found himself meeting the gaze of the heavy-set musician. ‘Who’re you?’