Assassin in the Greenwood

Minoresses, a small order outside Aldgate. Meanwhile, I will visit this Luigi Baldi to ensure your inheritance is kept safe.'
    Ranulf was fairly swaggering when he left the tavern.
    'Can you do that?' Maltote asked. 'Rahere was a traitor. His body should be gibbeted and all his property confiscated by the Crown. I know that,' he added defiantly, 'because Sir Hugh told me.'
    'There's the law,' Ranulf explained loftily, 'and there's Sir Hugh. Now, Old Master Long Face may appear to be dour, with a heart like flint.' Ranulf pursed his lips and shook his head. 'But, mark my words, once a man's dead, he won't push matters. Moreover, if his solution is correct, the King will grant him anything he wishes. Whatever,' Ranulf caught Maltote by the sleeve, 'we clerks of the chancery have considerable influence in these matters.'
    By the time they had bought the victuals and returned to the castle, Corbett was again immersed in his 'scribbling', as Ranulf termed it. He stopped to eat some bread and cheese and drink a little wine then returned to his task. Ranulf asked if they could walk round the castle. Corbett lifted his tousled head and crossly told him to stay where he was. Maltote and Ranulf diced for a while. Darkness fell and the castle grew silent, apart from the calls of sentries on the parapet walks or the occasional ringing of the bell. Ranulf and Maltote wrapped themselves in their cloaks and both slept fitfully. Every time they woke, Corbett was still seated at the table, bathed in a circle of candlelight, writing furiously or staring, face in hands, down at a piece of parchment.
    They both rose, heavy-eyed, just after dawn. Although Corbett was grey with exhaustion, he began to interrogate them on different details, going back to the table to continue his scribbling. Ranulf and Maltote gained permission to go into the town. Obeying Corbett's order they kept to themselves. When they returned, the table was cleared and Corbett lay fast asleep upon his bed. He awoke just after noon, still lost in his own thoughts. He shaved, washed and changed, ate some of the provisions Ranulf had brought, then curtly ordered both of them to pack.
    'Are we returning to London, Master?' Maltote asked hopefully.
    'No, no. Your saddlebags are packed?'
    Both Ranulf and Maltote nodded. Corbett handed Maltote a sealed package.
    'You are to leave the castle with Ranulf. Ride as hard as you can to Lincoln. You, Ranulf, are to seek an audience with Henry, Earl of Lincoln. You will find him in the castle there. Now,' he handed a small scroll to Ranulf, 'give him this. Tell him to read it alone.' Corbett rubbed his eyes. 'He will then give Maltote an armed escort to London.
    'You are to ride like the devil, Maltote, and deliver your package to the King in his own chamber at Westminster Hall. Meanwhile, Ranulf, ask the Earl of Lincoln for soldiers and go to Kirklees Priory. On her allegiance to the King, the Prioress is commanded to accompany you and the Earl of Lincoln, with whatever troops Lincoln can raise, back to Nottingham.'
    'Why the Prioress?' Ranulf asked.
    Corbett opened his mouth, then shook his head.
    'No, the less you know the better.'
    'Won't Lincoln object?' Ranulf asked, wary of the hardbitten Earl whose fierce temper and colourful oaths were known even to the humblest page boy at court.
    'The Earl will do as I say,' Corbett maintained. 'The letter is marked with the King's secret seal and the same applies to the writ for My Lady Prioress. They will come. They may object, they may plead, but they will come. Now go! And, Ranulf, I should be grateful if you would ask Sir Peter Branwood and Roteboeuf to join me here.'
    'What's going to happen?' Ranulf persisted.
    'Do as I say,' Corbett reiterated. 'You must be back here within three days.'
    Ranulf and Maltote left and a few minutes later Sir Peter Branwood, Naylor, Friar Thomas and Roteboeuf walked into the chamber.
    'Sir Hugh, you wished to see me? I thought I would bring the rest of my household.'
    'Yes,' Corbett murmured. 'It's best if I see you all. I think,' he continued, 'I know how to trap and kill Robin Hood.' He saw the look of surprise in Branwood's eyes.
    'What has happened?' the under-sheriff asked. 'Have you discovered the traitor?'
    'No, no,' Corbett replied. 'I think the solution to this outlaw's depredations must be a military one. My belief is that the Prioress of Kirklees has given comfort and sustenance to the wolfshead. She may be able to provide us with