Crown in Darkness

short of stature, blond, and though he had been in the ground much longer than Erceldoun the body, though swollen and green-tinged, had hardly begun to decompose. 'By the Hand of God!' Selkirk muttered. 'How has a body which has been in the ground remained so fresh?' 'I do not know,' answered Corbett. 'But I have my suspicions. I am not surprised. I almost expected to find it so.' Seton's body was quickly reinterred and, despite Sir James' protests, Corbett insisted that his escort accompany him back to the Abbey of Holy Rood. They returned without incident. Corbett curtly thanked Sir James, wished him goodnight and, followed by a relieved Ranulf, gratefully entered the cool darkness of the abbey buildings.

FIFTEEN
    The following day Corbett was busy in the abbey scriptorium, seated at a small desk, writing out a list of facts, snorting with fury at his own mistakes which he would angrily cross out with a score of his pen and begin again. Ranulf came in with a series of plaintive questions but Corbett dismissed him with a look. The Prior, ever curious, also tried to intervene but Corbett, taciturn and withdrawn, made it plain he did not want to answer questions. Once this list was completed and each point neady itemised, Corbett picked it up, left the sweet, fragrant-smelling library to walk slowly round the cloisters, muttering to himself, referring now and again to the piece of parchment held tightly in his hand, like some preacher learning his words, or a student preparing to discuss his treatise. The monks, unused to such curious behaviour, gossiped with relish about the strange eccentricities of this English clerk. Corbett did not mind; he broke off his constant walking for a meal of fish broiled in milk and herbs, then returned to his task. The images so vague in his mind were now quite clear and distinct but he had to be certain: the solution must be presented like a concise clear legal document, everything in its right place and, unfortunately, there were still gaps to be filled and ragged ends tidied up.
    Late in the afternoon, he asked and obtained from the now bemused Prior the services of the lay brother who had accompanied them to Earlston. Ranulf was ordered to saddle the horses and Corbett led his little party from the abbey and up into the town. He was pleased to see that as soon as they left the abbey gate, they were joined by the soldiers Sir James Selkirk had stationed near the abbey. Corbett was oblivious to everything else as he travelled down into the city: the dirty streets, the noisy clamour of the traders, even the mixture of rich smells from bakeries, cookshops and heaps of human and animal ordure steaming in the summer sun. He was trying to remember the route he had taken the morning de Craon's men had stopped him. The heat in the narrow packed streets was stifling and Sir James' men began to complain loudly; the lay brother, used to Corbett's strange ways, slumped resignedly on his gentle cob whilst Ranulf looked askance at his erratic and peculiar master.
    At last, Corbett found the narrow alleyway and pushed his horse through the crowd to the battered ale-stake above the dingy house. Ranulf and the escort were told to wait outside but the lay brother was asked to come in for he could, as Corbett put it, "talk in the common language". Ranulf, outside, peered through the small window, its shabby wooden shutters flung wide to let in the air and light. The place was just like any ale-house or tavern in Southwark with its dirt-beaten floor and ramshackle tables, filled with traders and peasants eager to spend the profits of market day. Ranulf watched Corbett, the lay brother acting as interpreter, in deep conversation with the tavern-keeper. After a while, Corbett nodded, handed over a few coins and left, his face wreathed in a complacent smile.
    They made their way back, not to the abbey but the castle, Corbett sending ahead one of his escort to ask Wishart for an audience and when they arrived the old, foxy-faced Bishop was waiting for them in his now sweltering chambers, though still swathed in fur-trimmed robes. 'The blood thins, Master Clerk,' he apologised. 'I go to meet my death. One day, perhaps sooner than you think, you might meet yours!' Corbett ignored the hidden threat and relaxed in the chair the servant had brought him. Apart from Selkirk, they were alone, for Corbett had left Ranulf and the escort to relax and refresh themselves.
    'You wanted to see me, Master Clerk, so come