Dispensation of Death

Chapter Thirty

Baldwin nudged Simon as he bowed low, going down on his knee. Simon was unused to court etiquette, and the last thing Baldwin wanted was for his friend to be arrested for a failure of simple manners before the King.

It was many years since Baldwin himself had needed to worry about such things. The last time he had seen the King had been in that small chamber with only a few men about. This was different. A failure of protocol here could result in a painful chastisement, and Baldwin had no desire either to suffer that nor to see Simon do so. He had to remind himself, though, of the rules of such encounters: never look the King in the eye, keep the head bent, always face him: even when leaving the King a man should walk backwards, head bowed, until out of The Presence.

He should have warned Simon, he reflected with irritation.

The King was walking at a stately pace along the hall. He nodded occasionally to those whom he wished to acknowledge: his brothers, a Bishop here or there, and the Despenser.

Sir Hugh was the only man who bowed but did not kneel, Baldwin saw. For some reason that struck him as the most appallingly conceited action of the man. Sir Hugh was clearly so settled in his power that even in public he felt no need to show his respect to the King or the Crown. Instead he walked over to the King and led him to the throne.

There was a ripple that passed through the crowd as the King took his seat, resting his hands on the throne’s arms. At last he lifted a hand, palm uppermost. The men in the hall stood straight once more, and the council was begun.

‘My Lords.’

Baldwin was slightly shocked, for it was not King Edward who was talking, but Despenser, standing beside the throne and reading the King’s words from a parchment.

‘There are matters pertaining to the Crown and the security of the realm which require that you advise me. I am your leader, and have supreme responsibility for the protection of our realm and Crown, doing all necessary to save them with your help, advice and guidance and all your strength. I have never acted without your counsel, and think that I have shown that I have always listened to your advice. I have asked you all here today to discuss matters affecting the realm, and I ask that you all individually speak at your peril to let me know your minds.’

Baldwin felt his own mind wandering. There was a great deal more in a similar vein, telling the assembled men that King Edward wanted their views, point by point, both from the laity and the clergy, and that they should be put in writing too, so that no man could deny his advice later. There would be no covering-up or evasions.

‘My Lords, the King of France has demanded that I go to him to swear allegiance for the provinces which I hold in France as Duke. I wish to hear your thoughts and deliberations.’

One after another, different Lords spoke, and all was quite civil until at last a man near Baldwin cleared his throat and cast a look on all sides.

‘My Lord King, my Lords — we are in this position because the French King illegally and unreasonably began to undermine our King. We all know what’s been going on. Any petitioner who comes to listen to our King’s justice and doesn’t like it can then go to the French King to demand his aid — and King Charles always sides with them against our own courts. And he used that as a pretext to make demands of us. He took our lands by devious and unreasonable means, my Lords, and he will take more. He will take over all our King’s possessions if he can, and none of us will be able to keep our lands. Make no mistake, that is what he intends, my Lords: to remove all our estates, and then, perhaps, to expand over here and take our country as well. At present our King is expected to go to France every few years to swear allegiance to their King for the lands he holds in fief. But if we leave him an opportunity, if he has an excuse, he will eventually be here, sitting there in that throne, demanding allegiance for all our lands.’

At this a Bishop began to shake his head emphatically. ‘That is nonsense, and my Lord of Norfolk knows it! The French King has justified claims upon those who attacked and murdered his officials. He has every right to ask that our King should go to France to give homage. He has done so to other members of the French Royal Family in recent years. Why should this one be any different?’

Bishop Stapledon had joined Baldwin and Simon, and now he whispered softly, ‘That is Bishop Orleton. He is most unhappy about the recent disputes and wishes for peace.’

‘What of that man?’ Simon asked, nodding towards the first to have spoken.

‘He is the King’s brother, Earl Thomas of Norfolk. He is distressed to think of the damage being done to our lands in France, for if the King should die, they would come to him,’ the Bishop said drily.

Another man had started to speak, and as he subsided, so another took over, and thus the debate rolled about the Great Hall, while the sun moved slowly across the sky and the shadows from the great windows roved across the faces of those present.

The Bishop who had spoken already, Orleton, spoke again, scowling about the room. ‘My Lords, the King has already given homage to this King’s brothers, and to his father. What is so different now? If our King were to go to France, surely Charles of Valois could at last see how he means the French Crown no ill-will, and their friendship could swiftly be renewed.’

Earl Thomas lifted his eyes to the heavens. ‘You mean that, my Lord Bishop? You think that this French King would be satisfied with our Liege’s apology and humble homage? He has Aquitaine already. We have lost Normandy, we have had Guyenne overrun — all on a pretext that will not hold water — while he gives sanctuary and friendship to our most hated enemy, Lord Mortimer. You really think it makes sense for our King to go there under those circumstances?’

‘I think it would be better for our King to be proved honourable!’

‘Honourable!’ the Earl sneered. ‘I suppose you would think any defeat for our King, for our Crown, for our honour, to be preferable to fighting for them.’

‘I would see blood preserved and not shed needlessly,’ Orleton said, his own voice rising.

‘And I say, a pox on that!’ This was Earl Edmund. He had been standing at the side of the chamber out of Baldwin’s view, but now he crossed the hall to stand before the King. ‘The French have invaded our lands and say that they are forfeit because our King has not paid homage. Charles laid siege to Saint Sardos and then to Montpezat, because he said there was no one in Guyenne for him to treat with. He is false, I say, and we should not allow our King to be sent into a land where he may be in danger.’

It was Sir Hugh le Despenser himself who finally opened the new line of discussion. ‘My Lords, there is one possible alternative to our King’s dilemma.’

His intervention caused a certain surprise. The men all about turned to him.

‘My Lords, we know that here in the King’s household there is one who could be sent as an ambassador to the French King. Perhaps we should consider this as an alternative.’

‘You mean to send the Queen?’ Earl Thomas was disbelieving. ‘How would that help us?’

‘Queen Isabella is a skilful negotiator. She could perhaps find a way to her brother’s heart and appease him without costing us further hardship. If she were to go to France, I am convinced that the French King would permit the return of the King’s territories in France. And that has to be our aim.’

Baldwin frowned with some surprise. He would have expected Sir Hugh to be less favourably disposed to such an idea. But when he looked at Bishop Stapledon, all he saw was dismay — and he realised that this had come as a complete shock to him too.

It was a relief when a halt was called to the proceedings. Throughout the morning, arguments had flowed forwards and back, the protagonists bellowing at each other, then cooler voices taking up the gauntlet and putting forth new, calmer points of view until one of the hotheads again raised the temperature of the debates.

Simon was surprised at the rowdiness. ‘Baldwin,’ he whispered as the two stood back and let the Lords and Bishops leave the room, ‘in my court at Lydford there are often blazing rows between different parties, but when that happens, I separate them myself, or have other men do it. It’s too dangerous to have tempers fray when everyone carries a knife or a sword — matters can so quickly escalate. Yet at no stage did the King even speak to stop the arguments from developing into a battle.’

‘He was listening and concentrating on the issue at hand, I suppose,’ Baldwin said.

‘Perhaps it is the upbringing of the men involved. Lords are simply better behaved than peasants.’

Baldwin looked at him long and hard. ‘You really believe that?’

‘Ah, Sir Baldwin.’

‘Sir Hugh,’ Baldwin said, without bothering to fix a smile to his face. ‘I understand congratulations are deserved. Your attack last night — I trust you were not greatly discommoded?’

‘Not so much as the pile of cow dung who had the temerity to try to kill me.’ Once again, the memory of that hideous hissing as the bolt scorched past him and Ellis came to him, and Sir Hugh had to swallow the curse at all those whom he paid and who failed in their duties.

Baldwin smiled wolfishly. ‘And how can I serve you today?’

‘Not you I, no. I can perhaps serve you. I heard of a dreadful attack last night — on an inn not far from here. The innkeeper was a known horse-thief, and do you know, one of my black stallions was there in his stables. A fortunate thing that one of my men happened by after the attack. He could report it and rescue my horse. But I understand you had some interest in the man. I am sorry if this is evil news for you.’

Baldwin was so overwhelmed with fury, he scarcely trusted his voice. ‘How did he die?’ he demanded at last through clenched teeth.

‘The keeper? Badly, I expect. They told me that he had been … roughly treated before he died. A place so far from any town, it’s hardly surprising.’

‘Those responsible will suffer for this!’

‘Perhaps. And then again, maybe those who try to make life difficult for those who seek only the good of the kingdom will themselves find life short and painful. Beware dark alleys, Sir Baldwin.’ Despenser retreated a pace or two, then span on his heel and stalked off towards the entrance.

‘He threatens me,’ Baldwin said with a cold ferocity.

‘Let him. There is no point taking on the most powerful man in the kingdom,’ Simon said. He had a hand on his friend’s elbow to restrain him. ‘Baldwin, please. Do not think of assaulting him.’

‘And have him think me a coward?’ Baldwin hissed.

‘Better let him think that than know you’re dead.’

A messenger appeared in the doorway and stood gazing about him at the hall. Seeing Simon and Baldwin, he made for them.

‘Sir Baldwin, I have been sent to ask you to join the King. He would know what you have learned about these unfortunate deaths.’

‘Wait for me here, Simon. I shall be as swift as I may be,’ Baldwin said coldly.

‘Baldwin! Be careful, old friend!’ Simon called after him.

Coroner John was already exhausted when he reached the Great Hall, and the sight of all the people thronging the New Palace Yard made him pull a face and mutter a short curse about all the ‘horses’ arses’ milling about and slowing the King’s officers about their duties.

He left his mount with a groom, and then made his way into the hall. Almost immediately, he saw Simon, and grinned broadly. ‘Aha, Bailiff! I have been wondering when I would see you again. I would like to talk a little more about your theories about the dead man and what the significance is of the way he was treated.’

‘I am waiting for my friend, I fear.’ Simon was disinclined to talk. ‘Perhaps another time would be better?’

The Coroner drew down the corners of his mouth. ‘Perhaps so. I too have business to attend to. Have you seen the good Sir Hugh le Despenser?’

‘He was here a short while ago,’ Simon said, on his guard. ‘Why do you seek him?’

‘I have just returned from a rather hideous murder. An inn was fired, the keeper and his wife left inside. But they were not killed by the fire itself, Bailiff. I fear both were first stabbed,’ he said. ‘One of those pleasant affairs where the lady was entertained by her murderers first, and her man made to watch, I fancy. Their bodies were hardly scorched. It was clear enough what had happened to them.’

Simon shook his head. ‘Henry and his wife? God’s balls!’

‘I had heard that a knight and a man clad in clothing much like yours visited the fellow only last night,’ the Coroner continued. There was an edge to his tone now, and he looked at Simon with his head set slightly to one side.

‘Yes, we were there,’ Simon said, but no more. He had no desire to give any more information than was necessary. This man gave the impression that he was a cheerful, amiable soul, but Simon was painfully certain that he was in fact very shrewd, and that he might well be an ally of Sir Hugh.

‘Why did you go there?’

Simon smiled, but there was no humour in it. ‘We were seeking information about the dead man here, of course.’

‘Aha! And you learned something then, I can see it in your eyes.’

‘Yes — and my friend is telling the King even now, I expect.’

The Coroner smiled. ‘Could you tell me, too?’

‘I think it is best that the King should be informed first.’

‘Bailiff, do you not trust me?’ the Coroner asked, a trace of hurt in his voice which was supremely irrelevant to Simon. ‘I have the impression that you prefer not to discuss any aspects of these deaths with me.’

‘Oh, Coroner, no. That is not true!’ Simon protested mildly.

‘Then answer me a few little questions, please. Was there any suggestion that the dead man from the Great Hall had stayed at that inn, for example?’

‘I think so,’ Simon agreed.

‘Was there anything still there which could have assisted us in investigating his death? Oh, come now, Bailiff, surely there can be no difficulty in telling me that much!’

Simon hesitated, but in all fairness he could see no reason to conceal that matter. ‘Very well. Yes, there was proof that he had stayed there.’

‘And what was that proof?’

Simon was relieved to see Baldwin return. ‘Our friend here wants to learn more about what we discovered last night.’

‘Really? Did you tell him that it is not safe to be seen with us? We are become leprous, Coroner,’ Baldwin said heavily. ‘Do not approach us unless you wish to become afflicted in the same manner.’

Coroner John looked from one to the other with a perplexed expression on his face. ‘I do not understand you. All I wish is to discover the truth behind the death of this man, and you are both officers of the law. You ought to want to help me, but you’re obstructing me instead. Why is that?’

‘We have too many other matters to discuss. If you would excuse us, Sir John,’ Baldwin said firmly, and took Simon’s arm to lead him from the room.