Even as the words were out of his mouth, Edward knew he was lying. He would miss Corbett: dark, secretive, with his wry sense of humour, his love of law. Corbett, his shadow-master or ‘guardian angel’, as the king had once referred to him.
‘He did well,’ de Warrenne grudgingly conceded. ‘Do you believe Master Hubert Seagrave?’
Edward grinned. ‘No, I don’t. Truth comes in many guises, but a rich vintner coming to confess his sins, his chests full of ancient gold, craving the royal pardon for a momentary lapse. .’ Edward shrugged: he jabbed a finger at the courtyard below. ‘Corbett’s brain may be of steel, but he has a heart of wax. I suspect he had a hand in it. However, my coffers are full, my Exchequer clerks are dancing with delight at the profits, not to mention the low price Seagrave will charge for every tun of wine delivered to the royal household.’
‘And de Craon?’ the earl asked.
‘Huffing and puffing,’ Edward replied. ‘Shocked, outraged. The lying bastard protests too much. He’ll go back to my sweet brother of France and I’ll have letters! Oh, by the moon’s tits, I’ll have letters! Angry protestations, fierce denunciations, then Philip will scuttle back to his spiderweb and plot again. He’s set his heart on the Templars and the Templars he will have; but not while I sit on the throne at Westminster. .’
Edward rose and went across to the table. ‘Legrave is dead,’ he continued. ‘De Molay will return to France to accept Philip’s protestations of innocence. He will even offer the French king a loan.’ Edward sat down and began to leaf through the books Corbett had borrowed from the Archbishop’s library. ‘But this fire. .’
‘You had heard about it before, your Grace?’
‘Oh yes,’ Edward lied, snapping his fingers at de Warrenne to join him. The king leaned his elbows on the table, cupping his face in his hands. ‘In the summer,’ he mused, ‘I intend to cross the Scottish march. I will teach Wallace and his rebels a lesson they’ll never forget.’ He tapped the pages of the book. ‘I want my Clerks of Stores to read this. What Corbett discovered, so can they. That rogue Claverley, whom I’m going to reward, can help. Let us, my good Earl, take this fire north. I’ll set the very heather ablaze!’
Edward heard a sound from the courtyard below. He pushed back his stool and went to look out of the window. His heart skipped a beat: Corbett was gone.