It was enough to sour his ale.
Sir Hugh left Piers with no easing of the frustration he had felt all day. Ellis was nowhere to be seen just now, nor was Pilk. Useless arses, the pair of them! Since he’d had that chat with Sir Baldwin, he’d been struck with a sense of urgency.
He’d managed to speak to Bishop Stapledon, and the good Bishop had promised his help. Oh yes, he’d promised. But that wasn’t really good enough. Stapledon should have come and told Sir Hugh as soon as the indenture had been given to him. It had been a shock, to hear about it from Sir Baldwin. Sir Hugh would have expected a ‘friend’ to let him know as soon as it turned up. Still, the fact that it had been given to the Bishop for safe-keeping was good. It was under lock and key now.
Still no sign of Ellis. The Despenser ground his teeth. Here he was, unsure when another blow might fall, and his man had disappeared! It was quite intolerable! He and Pilk had better make themselves more useful, or they would learn that neither was indispensable. There were plenty of men who’d be happy to remove them to take their places at Despenser’s side. And just now Sir Hugh would be happy to receive their replacements.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The Chaplain was as good as his word, and soon he returned, holding a skin of wine and three wooden cups. ‘I thought you looked like men who would appreciate a little drink.’
‘We thank you, most sincerely,’ Simon said. He jealously watched the wine being poured and all but drained his cup in one draught. ‘I often find that investigations can be thirsty work,’ he said hopefully, and was reassured to see his cup refilled.
Baldwin glanced at him. There was one question which still troubled him about this Chaplain. ‘Tell me, when I mentioned your name to the Bishop of Exeter, he was not fulsome in your praise.’
Peter was still for a moment, and then he gave a short shrug. ‘He does not like me. I was a failure for a while. Until Drokensford rescued me.’
‘How so?’
Peter grunted. ‘I have no need of secrets from you. I was a priest in a hellish little hole in Kent, far from any civilisation. There I fell in love with a woman. The wife of my patron, and we ran away together. We hoped … well, we intended to escape Kent and England and find a new life in France.’
‘You were captured, though.’
Peter could see that moment again. Waking beside his lovely Margaret to see Sir Walter above him, sword in hand. Peter had escaped only by a whisker, but she was killed by that blow, and Peter had taken the sword and thrust it again and again into Sir Walter’s breast. They found him there at noon, still cradling her dead body. And then he was sent to the Bishop’s gaol until Bishop Drokensford found another little job for him.
‘My Lord Bishop thought that I would be the perfect man to help our Queen. I dislike seeing women caged,’ he said after a moment. And the Bishop kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t seduce Isabella, too, he thought. Seeing a flash of colour, he looked up. Ah, here she is,’ Peter said.
Turning, Simon and Baldwin saw the Lady Eleanor crossing the yard. She looked pale. But having witnessed the murder of her servant, it was scarcely surprising that she was wan, Simon thought.
‘My Lady, I am grateful indeed that you could spare us a little of your time,’ Baldwin said.
She nodded, but to Simon she seemed barely aware of the courtesy. To him, she appeared so enwrapped in her own thoughts that the real world could scarcely intrude. ‘Peter told me that you might have information that could help me?’ she said.
‘I fear there can be little comfort for you,’ Baldwin admitted. ‘But you would hardly expect that in this court, would you?’
She said nothing, but a slight fluttering gesture of her hand, like the beating of a butterfly’s wings, appeared to confirm his guess.
‘I shall not attempt to conceal anything from you, my Lady. I feel it is best to tell you what we have heard, so that you are forewarned.’
‘Please do.’
Baldwin glanced at Peter, who began. ‘Very well, my Lady. Mabilla, we have heard, was the brother of Ellis, your husband’s henchman. She was also, we have recently been told, an especial spy for your husband.’
‘No. No, that can’t be right!’ Eleanor said with a shake of her head. ‘He wouldn’t need another in the Queen’s household. He knew I was always there.’
‘Lady, I fear it is true.’ Baldwin’s tone was calm, but relentless. ‘She not only spied on the Queen, but … on others, too.’
As the Lady Eleanor grasped his meaning, her complexion became quite waxen, the colour of a church candle, and Simon moved closer to her, fearing that she might faint.
‘I do not wish to upset you,’ Baldwin said, but now his voice had changed. Instead of the confident retailing of the story, he began to sound quite wretched as he took in her appearance.
‘Continue, I pray,’ she said.
As Peter passed her a filled cup of wine, Baldwin obeyed, clearing his throat.
‘We know that she was used to spy on Earl Edmund of Kent, for example. When he came back from Guyenne, he was desolate after the shameful truce he had agreed with Charles Valois. Mabilla’s apparent kindness to him persuaded him that she was interested in him, and he tried to force her to lie with him. However, she had no intention of sleeping with him and gaining a reputation for unchastity purely for your husband’s benefit, so she rejected him. It confused him greatly, I think. To this day, I believe he doesn’t understand why she refused him.’
‘So Earl Edmund killed her?’
Baldwin shook his head. ‘No. Why should he do that? If he had been that upset, he might have stabbed at her when he thought she was insulting him, but not weeks later. No, I do not think so.’
‘No,’ she said bitterly. ‘You think it must be my husband, don’t you?’
Baldwin was silent. At moments like this, when someone was considering betraying all that they had held dear for many years, it was best to let them speak at their own speed. But when she spoke, her frankness shocked him. He was unused to such glacial anger, even from women whose men had foully mistreated them.
‘I am sure it was him,’ she spat. ‘He always wanted other things, other women. And men. I was never good enough, you see. I was adequate at first, because I brought him valuable property in Wales, but now he’s built up his own estates he scarcely needs me.’
‘You cannot think he intended to kill you?’ Simon said.
‘What would you think, master?’ she demanded. ‘He sends an assassin to kill me, and he killed Mabilla by mistake.’
‘Lady,’ Baldwin said, ‘I think you are wrong. If he had wanted you to die, he would have ensured that his man killed you.’
‘But Alicia pushed herself before me. She protected me — and the Queen, of course.’
‘One woman? No, if the assassin wished to kill you, he would have pushed all the ladies-in-waiting from his path. Just as, if he had intended to kill the Queen, he could have done so. No, I think that he was there to kill one person and one person only: Mabilla.’
‘You do not know my husband.’
‘I think I know him well enough, Lady. What advantage would your death bring him? Money? Power? Land? No, nothing.’
‘What would he gain from Mabilla’s death?’
Baldwin had to shrug in defeat at that. ‘It is very difficult to think of anyone who could have had a motive to kill her. The man whom you saw that night — I do not suppose you recognised him?’
‘No. His mask was enough to strike terror into my heart, and when I saw the knife, I lost all will. I just stared at it. Pathetic, but I could do nothing else!’
‘The man did not have a candle, though,’ Simon said.
‘I … no, he cannot have. If he had, I should have seen the light as we walked along the corridor.’
‘Was there the scent of a snuffed candle?’ Simon pressed her.