Simon’s mouth fell open in comprehension. Of course: Despenser was the King’s especial lover, if all he had heard and seen was correct.
‘That could explain it,’ the Bishop said.
Shortly afterwards, another Bishop, a man whom Baldwin heard described as Bath and Wells, arrived and engaged Stapledon in conversation. Suddenly his mind was taken back to the Chaplain in the Queen’s chapel. He said he had been installed by Drokensford, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and Baldwin studied the latter with interest.
He was a tall, handsome man, with curling grey hair that almost sprayed out from beneath his mitre. Grey it may have been, but it was thick and gleaming. There was no weakness in his face, either. Baldwin saw astute eyes set in a face that gave nothing away, but clearly the man missed little. Even as Baldwin studied him, Drokensford looked across at him and murmured a question to Stapledon. Soon afterwards the Bishops were before Baldwin and Simon, and the two had to kiss another Episcopal ring.
‘I believe you are the knight who was looking into the attempt on the Queen’s life?’
‘That is right, my Lord Bishop,’ Baldwin agreed. He was surprised that this great Lord would have any interest in the affair. It appeared to have all the hallmarks of a rather grubby attempt, not the sort of thing that should have appealed to a man in Drokensford’s position. He was intrigued to learn what his interest was.
‘I have heard from my Lord Walter that you are not to look into the man who last night made an attempt upon the King’s especial adviser.’
‘I take the view that the person of the King’s consort is of more moment than a man who, though he is important, is nonetheless merely a knight,’ Baldwin said firmly.
Drokensford smiled at the certainty in his voice. ‘Your judgement shows great honour, Sir Baldwin. However, I simply wonder whether there are aspects which may have evaded you?’
‘I am scarcely omniscient!’
‘Perhaps. I merely wonder whether it could be advantageous to seek the attempted assassin of Sir Hugh, since I should have thought that two assassins in one palace in a week is enough of a coincidence for anyone.’
‘I do not think I follow you, my Lord Bishop.’
‘Come — I think you follow me perfectly well! We have passed many years without a single assassin appearing. Then within a week we have two. Surely both should merit investigation, in case this unseemly rash of murderers might have a logical explanation behind them.’
‘Of course,’ Baldwin nodded.
‘I merely leave the thought with you, Sir Baldwin. If you look into one assassin, why not look into both?’
‘And if I seek neither?’
His words took both the Bishops by surprise. Stapledon thrust his chin at Baldwin and scowled with the attempt to see his face, while Drokensford’s mouth fell open for a moment before he realised how unedifying his expression must appear. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Both assassins are dead. The second, it is true, died in his attempt on the life of Sir Hugh. The first, though, was killed without any comment. No one claimed responsibility. That is curious, is it not? If a guard had come across him in the palace in the middle of the night, recognised him as an intruder and killed him, would he not be in front of the King’s steward the very next morning, demanding a reward for his selfless devotion to his duty? And he would have raised the roof that night with elation, for having done a job so well. Have you ever known a guard do the right thing and then conceal it? Have you known any servant hide his behaviour when it only redounds to the benefit of his reputation? Good heaven, Bishop, the more I think about this matter, the more certain I am that the man who killed the assassin was desperate to hide his part in the matter. And he killed the assassin to protect someone — perhaps even to protect his true prey.’
‘The assassin killed that lady, Sir Baldwin.’
‘No — someone did. And I have to wonder why. It is stretching credulity too far to consider that Mabilla was being sought out by one assassin, a second was seeking another victim, and the two met in the palace with disastrous consequences for the one found dead.’
‘I agree. That scarcely holds water.’
‘Yet there was an assassin. And he was killed. So somebody in the Palace wished to stop his murderous attempt. I think it is fair to consider that the man who killed Mabilla was almost certainly the same man as he who killed Jack, the assassin.’
‘You have his name?’ Drokensford was shocked. ‘I had thought he was a complete stranger to all in the Palace.’
‘Oh no. He was commissioned by someone here to go and make his daring assault.’
‘Then who could have ordered that?’
Baldwin felt Stapledon’s eye on him warningly. ‘Somebody who wished for the Queen to be killed,’ he replied. ‘You may have more idea of that than me.’
The Bishop eyed him doubtfully. ‘I have a feeling that the sooner the poor lady, our Queen, is away from here and back at her home in France, the safer she must be.’
‘I cannot argue with that, my Lord Bishop.’
‘Are you quite sure that this dead killer was not the man who killed Mabilla?’
‘Quite sure. The man who killed Mabilla was witnessed. He was someone who was dressed quite differently from Jack atte Hedge, and interestingly, Mabilla’s killer wore a mask. I feel sure that Jack felt no need of such a device. He would kill any who saw him; as an assassin he could kill without compunction, after all. While the fellow who killed him, and incidentally Mabilla as well, had his face hidden so that the ladies in our Queen’s party would not recognise him.’
‘What reason would this second man have for hurting her, then?’ Stapledon demanded.
Baldwin was saved answering that by the blaring of trumpets. The King was returned.
The rest of the afternoon passed as had the morning. Men stood and made their feelings known, while the matter of whether the Queen should be permitted to cross the water and negotiate with her brother exercised all the minds there in the chamber.
‘This is pointless,’ Simon muttered to Baldwin. ‘Surely they’re all aware that something must be done, and if they want to send anyone, isn’t the sister to the French King the best possible ambassador?’
‘Only for those who are convinced that she will act as a free and fair agent on behalf of the King,’ Baldwin muttered back.
‘Who could doubt that?’
But once more Baldwin was saved from responding to a difficult question by the King, who nudged Sir Hugh in the ribs and pointed to Baldwin.
Sir Hugh nodded and motioned towards him. ‘Sir Baldwin. The King would hear your opinion.’
To Simon’s eye the whole room became still as people craned their necks to stare at him and his friend. Colouring quickly, he felt more conspicuous than his friend under their steady contemplation. He wished that the ground would just open up so he could wriggle away through the mud and filth which was where, he reckoned, all these grand men assumed he must live.
Baldwin was in no way affected in like manner. He bowed to the King. ‘My Liege, I think that there is no possible alternative to your using your greatest asset in these negotiations. You must either go yourself, or send an ambassador, but if you are to send someone, you should use the one to whom the French King is mostly likely to listen. It is clear who this must be.’
‘You would send the Queen?’
‘Certainly.’
‘And what if she were to prove more devoted to her brother than to her husband?’
Baldwin did not flinch. ‘I am sure that my King would not have given her reason to commit petty treason, any more than I would think her capable of such a betrayal.’
‘You may find yourself nailed to a door by those words, Sir Baldwin.’
‘Perhaps. But I think it better to behave towards others as a Christian should, and hope in that way that others will also treat me honourably, Sir Hugh,’ he said firmly, and there was a sudden laugh at the rear of the room, quickly stifled.