rest of you stay!’
The Vice-Regent hurried off. He returned with four servants carrying a sheet and Langton’s corpse was placed in it. Tripham told them to take it to the corpse house at the far side of the garden.
Corbett sat, head bowed. How could this have happened? He closed his eyes. Think! Think! Why did Langton have a letter addressed to me in his wallet? If Langton hadn’t died, would he have handed it over, and would he have been able to tell me who the writer was. The Bellman must have been taking a huge risk. What would have happened if Langton had suddenly handed it across during the meal or afterwards? And how did the poisoner know which cup to taint? He opened his eyes. Langton’s corpse had now been removed. The rest were looking at him strangely.
‘Sir Hugh,’ Lady Mathilda spoke up. ‘The night is drawing on, we are all tired.’
Corbett got up, trying to hide his confusion and fear at the menacing threats of the Bellman.
‘Little can be done now,’ he said. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’
‘I would like to have words with you before you go,’ Lady Mathilda said. ‘Sir Hugh, I am, with my brother of blessed memory, the founder of this Hall.’ She stared defiantly at Tripham. ‘I demand to have words with you!’
The Vice-Regent looked as if he was going to protest but instead, gesturing in exasperation, left the chamber. The others followed. Lady Mathilda asked Ranulf and Maltote to stand outside with Master Moth. She locked and bolted the library door behind them and then returned. She sat down at the table and flicked her fingers for Corbett to sit opposite her.
‘We can’t be heard here,’ she whispered, leaning across. ‘Sir Hugh, you must have been told that the King had a spy at Sparrow Hall?’
Corbett just stared back.
‘Someone who tells the King what happens here.’ Lady Mathilda pushed back the sleeves of her dress. ‘I am that spy, Sir Hugh. My brother was the King’s man in peace and war. This Hall, this callege -’ her voice rose slightly, and spots of anger appeared high in her cheeks ‘- this place was founded for learning and now it has become a mockery!’
‘Did the King ask you to spy?’ Corbett asked.
Lady Mathilda’s sallow face relaxed, her eyes still glittered with anger.
‘No, I offered my services, Sir Hugh. Don’t you know my history? As a damsel, I played cat’s cradle with de Montfort’s knights.’ Her face softened. ‘In my day, Corbett, I was beautiful. Men begged to kiss this bony, vein-streaked hand. The King’s knights often wore my colours in the lists and tournaments.’ She grinned, her face becoming impish. ‘Even Edward Longshanks tried to enter my bed. I suppose I was the King’s in war and peace,’ she added wryly. She clasped her bejewelled fingers together. ‘Those were great days, Corbett. Days of war; of armies marching and banners flying, of spying and treachery. If de Montfort had won, a new king would have sat on the throne at Westminster and the likes of me and my brother would have gone into the darkness. You have heard the story?’
Corbett shook his head, fascinated by the intensity of this old but vibrant woman.
‘At Evesham, at the height of the battle, five of de Montfort’s knights tried to break through to kill the King. They hacked down his bodyguard and burst into the royal circle - but my brother Henry was there.’ She lifted her face, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘Like a rock he was, so the King said; feet planted like oaks in the ground, his great two-handed war sword whirling like the wind: those knights never reached the King. My brother killed them all. Afterwards, that night in his tent, Edward swore a great oath.’ She closed her eyes, her voice thrilling, “‘I have sworn a great oath and I will never repent of it”, the King declared, his hand over a relic of Edward the Confessor. “Whenever Henry Braose, or any of his family, seek my help I shall not
The Vice-Regent hurried off. He returned with four servants carrying a sheet and Langton’s corpse was placed in it. Tripham told them to take it to the corpse house at the far side of the garden.
Corbett sat, head bowed. How could this have happened? He closed his eyes. Think! Think! Why did Langton have a letter addressed to me in his wallet? If Langton hadn’t died, would he have handed it over, and would he have been able to tell me who the writer was. The Bellman must have been taking a huge risk. What would have happened if Langton had suddenly handed it across during the meal or afterwards? And how did the poisoner know which cup to taint? He opened his eyes. Langton’s corpse had now been removed. The rest were looking at him strangely.
‘Sir Hugh,’ Lady Mathilda spoke up. ‘The night is drawing on, we are all tired.’
Corbett got up, trying to hide his confusion and fear at the menacing threats of the Bellman.
‘Little can be done now,’ he said. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’
‘I would like to have words with you before you go,’ Lady Mathilda said. ‘Sir Hugh, I am, with my brother of blessed memory, the founder of this Hall.’ She stared defiantly at Tripham. ‘I demand to have words with you!’
The Vice-Regent looked as if he was going to protest but instead, gesturing in exasperation, left the chamber. The others followed. Lady Mathilda asked Ranulf and Maltote to stand outside with Master Moth. She locked and bolted the library door behind them and then returned. She sat down at the table and flicked her fingers for Corbett to sit opposite her.
‘We can’t be heard here,’ she whispered, leaning across. ‘Sir Hugh, you must have been told that the King had a spy at Sparrow Hall?’
Corbett just stared back.
‘Someone who tells the King what happens here.’ Lady Mathilda pushed back the sleeves of her dress. ‘I am that spy, Sir Hugh. My brother was the King’s man in peace and war. This Hall, this callege -’ her voice rose slightly, and spots of anger appeared high in her cheeks ‘- this place was founded for learning and now it has become a mockery!’
‘Did the King ask you to spy?’ Corbett asked.
Lady Mathilda’s sallow face relaxed, her eyes still glittered with anger.
‘No, I offered my services, Sir Hugh. Don’t you know my history? As a damsel, I played cat’s cradle with de Montfort’s knights.’ Her face softened. ‘In my day, Corbett, I was beautiful. Men begged to kiss this bony, vein-streaked hand. The King’s knights often wore my colours in the lists and tournaments.’ She grinned, her face becoming impish. ‘Even Edward Longshanks tried to enter my bed. I suppose I was the King’s in war and peace,’ she added wryly. She clasped her bejewelled fingers together. ‘Those were great days, Corbett. Days of war; of armies marching and banners flying, of spying and treachery. If de Montfort had won, a new king would have sat on the throne at Westminster and the likes of me and my brother would have gone into the darkness. You have heard the story?’
Corbett shook his head, fascinated by the intensity of this old but vibrant woman.
‘At Evesham, at the height of the battle, five of de Montfort’s knights tried to break through to kill the King. They hacked down his bodyguard and burst into the royal circle - but my brother Henry was there.’ She lifted her face, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘Like a rock he was, so the King said; feet planted like oaks in the ground, his great two-handed war sword whirling like the wind: those knights never reached the King. My brother killed them all. Afterwards, that night in his tent, Edward swore a great oath.’ She closed her eyes, her voice thrilling, “‘I have sworn a great oath and I will never repent of it”, the King declared, his hand over a relic of Edward the Confessor. “Whenever Henry Braose, or any of his family, seek my help I shall not
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