Prince of Darkness

water. They were not allowed to tarry, however, but were taken upstairs, along a gallery and into a small chamber, its simplicity in stark contrast to the splendour they had just witnessed.
    Both Gaveston and the Prince were there. The royal favourite sat in a quilted window seat whilst young Edward lounged in a chair near him. They were both gazing out of the window like homesick boys, as if desperately wishing to be elsewhere. The King, however, had ordered that his son should stay at Woodstock and, of course, where the Prince of Wales was, Gaveston his shadow always followed.
    Both young men loved ostentatious dress but today they were dressed simply in hose pushed into soft leather riding boots, lacy cambric shirts, and blood-red taffeta jackets slung across their shoulders. Gaveston didn't turn a hair as Corbett and Ranulf were announced. The Prince, however, smiled falsely, straightening up in his chair and running long white fingers through his blond hair.
    'Master Corbett, I remember you. You are my father's man.'
    'And yours, Your Grace.'
    The Prince smirked and indicated that a steward should bring forward two chairs.
    'Corbett, you and your wide-eyed servant may as well sit. You wish for some wine?'
    The Prince didn't even wait for an answer but turned to a small table beside him, slopped two goblets full of wine, rose and thrust them at his unwanted guests. Corbett murmured his thanks and sipped gently. Ranulf drained his cup in two noisy gulps. The Prince smirked and Gaveston turned, for the first time acknowledging their presence with a condescending sneer. Corbett refused to be ruffled. He guessed both men were drunk but Gaveston particularly, even half-asleep, was as dangerous as a slumbering boar. He studied the Gascon's dark effete face and the jewel-encrusted pearl which swung arrogantly from one ear lobe. In everything he was the perfect courtier. The King had told him that Gaveston aimed high, coveted an earldom, and wished to use his friendship with the Prince to found a dynasty as great as the de Clares, the Beaumonts, or any of the great lords who had followed the Conqueror across the Narrow Seas.
    For his part, Gaveston scrutinised the clerk whilst running the tip of his tongue over full fleshy lips. He cursed the drink, his own maudlin thoughts, and the Prince for seeing Corbett. In his heart Gaveston knew that young Edward quite liked the clerk; admired the man's fidelity and unwillingness to criticise him to his terrible father. Gaveston feared no one, neither the King, de Warenne, or any great lord, but was wary of Corbett with his secretive face and hooded eyes. Soon the questions would begin and the Prince would have no choice but to answer. Oh, he could stand on his dignity, but Corbett would inform the King and the Prince would have to answer eventually. Gaveston clenched his hands in his lap. He and the Prince should be left alone! He glanced quickly at Edward and Corbett saw the flicker of annoyance on the Prince's face.
    'Your Grace,' he asked, 'you object to my being here?'
    'No, Corbett, I do not. What puzzles me is why?'
    'Lady Eleanor's death.'
    The Prince arched an eyebrow.
    'There's some problem?' he asked. I understand she had an accident?'
    'No, it is said she was murdered.'
    Corbett stared coolly back, noting the agitation his stark comment had caused.
    'You have proof of that?' Gaveston asked.
    'My Lord, soon I will, but whatever evidence I have will not make any difference to the Prince's enemies. They will still allege he murdered her.' Corbett leaned forward. I am not saying I believe that I report what I feel, as well as the rumour that is spreading. Accordingly, the more facts I have, the better I can combat the lies on the Prince's behalf.'
    Edward stared at Corbett and suddenly throwing back his head, roared with laughter. Gaveston looked perplexed. Corbett just sat motionless, impassive, until the Prince had recovered himself.
    'Oh, that's rich, Corbett' he said, wiping a tear from his eye. 'I am touched by your concern. Please accept my most sincere thanks for your interest.' His mood suddenly changed. 'I know why you are here. For God's sake get on with it!'
    The clerk shrugged.
    'Lady Eleanor, Your Grace, men say she was ill?' He hurried on, 'Of a malady of the breast?' The Prince nodded. 'How long had that been so?' 'Oh, about a year.' 'Some people say longer.'
    'Some people are liars! I am not responsible,' Edward snapped, 'for what people like to invent They