Crown in Darkness

the ferry. Alexander angrily complied, furious that the King could put him to so much trouble on a wild, bitterly cold night. 'I did what I was told to,' he grumbled. 'I waited there for hours until His Grace came. I remonstrated with him but he would not listen. He had to be with the Queen and so he rode off.' 'And what did you do?' Alexander belched and scratched his chin. 'I went to a tavern in Inverkeithing where I was joined by one of the King's squires.' 'You what?' Corbett asked. 'One of the King's companions?' 'The same,' Alexander replied, trying to focus on this curious English clerk. 'The poor bastard was thrown by his horse and had to walk back to the village. We both stayed there till late the following day.' He looked slyly at Corbett. 'You see, we were drinking. It was only when we left the tavern that we heard about the King.' Corbett nodded and pushed a few coins into the purveyor's slack hands. 'So, who found the King's body?' 'Oh, a party from the castle across the Forth, they gathered it up and it was taken back on a royal barge.' Corbett nodded understandingly while he concentrated on listing a sequence of events surrounding the Scottish King's death. There was something wrong, very wrong but he could not grasp it. 'Tell me,' he said slowly. 'One squire stayed with you? And he never reached the manor?' Alexander nodded. 'So what happened to the other one?' Corbett continued. 'If he reached the manor, why did he not come back to look for his master? In fact,' Corbett now tried to clear the doubts in his own mind, 'why didn't the Queen send out a search-party for her husband? After all, he was expected?' The purveyor stared hard at the table, as he tried to concentrate. 'I don't know,' he muttered. 'The fellow who stayed with me went back and so did the other squire. He evidently rode ahead of the King and reached the manor. Why he or the Queen never thought of searching for the King is a mystery.' He stared drunkenly at Corbett. 'The whole thing's a mystery, Master Clerk, and perhaps you should answer questions. The King's desire to join the Queen is a mystery, for,' he added bitterly, 'he would have had little joy out of her.' 'What do you mean?' Corbett asked. 'Did Queen Yolande hate her husband?' Alexander only grimaced, farted, then fell head forward into a drunken sleep. Corbett cursed and rose to his feet. He took the dirty threadbare cloak and, finding the cleanest spot in the hall, lay down and fell asleep.
    The next morning Corbett woke, feeling dirty and aching in every joint. He got up, went out into the courtyard to piss and onto the kitchen to beg for a cup of watered ale and a slice of greasy bacon to silence the hunger pangs of his stomach for he had not eaten since leaving Holy Rood Abbey the previous day. Corbett wanted to leave Kinghorn quickly before the captain or Alexander began to question him, so, once he had finished his meal, he went to the stable and, saddling the garron, led him out towards the main gate. Corbett was almost there when he heard a voice call out. He turned and saw the red-haired Lennox woman coming out of the door of the main building, an earthenware jar in her hand. Corbett quietly groaned and stopped as she approached. 'Are ye leaving so soon, Master English Clerk?' she asked suggestively, her eyes boldly studying Corbett from head to toe. 'Yes, I'm leaving,' the clerk replied. 'I have to. Perhaps next time?' 'Next time,' Agnes whispered huskily, 'we must talk, become better acquainted?' 'Yes,' Corbett replied, 'but not now! Goodbye!' 'Till then, Master Clerk,' came the brazen reply. 'Till the next time!' Corbett sighed, turned his horse and, after a short argument with a sleepy guard, left Kinghorn for the ferry.
    He reached it without mishap but had to wait for a while, watching the day begin, until the ferrymaster arrived. He greeted Corbett warmly, ensured that the garron was safely returned to its stable in Inverkeithing and then rowed Corbett out across the Forth. This time, he asked the questions, curious about the Queen and the doings of the great ones of the land. Corbett, cold and hungry, muttered his replies and was more than pleased when they reached Queensferry. Corbett was just about to leave to collect his cob from the stables when he remembered something and hurried back to the ferrymaster. 'Tell me,' he urged, 'did you take anyone else across the Forth the day the King died?' The ferrymaster shook his head. 'Na, na,' he replied. 'The