Prince of Darkness

middle of the group of mourners around the makeshift coffin, leading them in raucous song about the fate of an innkeeper's young daughter. Corbett joined them and waited for the tankards to empty before good-naturedly bullying Ranulf into collecting their horses and making their way back on to the deserted track to Godstowe.
    Of course, Ranulf and Maltote were now firm friends, the servant innocently enquiring whether the messenger ever played dice? A game, he confessed, in which he was deeply interested but had very little skill. Corbett was about to alert Maltote to the truth when he tensed. Something or someone was following them, treading through the trees on the side of the track. He reined in his horse and gestured to Ranulf to keep silent He stared into the green darkness behind them. Someone was watching from the shadows of the forest.
    'What is it Master?' Ranulf whispered.
    'Nothing,' Corbett murmured. 'But when I lower my hand, ride as fast as you can!'
    He half turned, dropped his hand and kicked his horse into a gallop. Ranulf and Maltote following suit just as the two crossbow quarrels came whirring out of the darkness, skimming the tops of their heads. They needed no second bidding but rode as fast as they could, not pausing until they thundered through the half-open gate of Godstowe Priory, putting the porter into such serious agitation he appeared almost sober for once.
    'Close the gates!' Corbett rasped. 'Bolt them, and let no one through without my orders!'
    He suddenly looked round and remembered the two retainers.
    When did they leave us?' he asked Ranulf.
    'At Woodstock, Master. They said their duty was to guard Godstowe Priory.'
    'Is that so?' Corbett retorted. 'Then, Master Porter,' he raised his voice so the two soldiers hiding in the porter's house could hear him, 'tell them I will check that they are carrying out their duties. If I smell so much as a drop of ale on their breaths, they will answer to the King's Provost Marshal!'
    He left Ranulf with the horses and walked round to Lady Amelia's chamber. He found the Lady Prioress closeted with Dames Frances and Catherine.
    'Master Corbett!' She rose from behind the desk, her face full of surprise. 'Do come in.' She ushered him to a window seat. 'More danger, more problems?'
    'On the way back from Woodstock we were attacked.'
    The Lady Prioress drew her imperious brows together.
    'Outlaws? Wolfshead?'
    I would like to think that, My Lady,' Corbett tactfully replied. 'But I think they were sent to kill me.'
    He gazed at the two Sub-prioresses who were staring fixedly at him. Ranulf was right, he thought Dame Catherine did have a lecherous look in her eyes.
    'Lady Amelia, I have a request. Does the phrase "Noli me tangere" mean anything to you?'
    'Do not touch me!' The Lady Prioress grinned mischievously. 'A family motto, Master Corbett. And hardly suitable to a nunnery. Why should it mean anything to me?' She shook her head.
    'In which case,' replied Corbett, I must crave your indulgence. ' He looked across at the hour candle on the table. 'Soon the sisters will gather for Compline, I believe?'
    'Of course.'
    'May I speak to them?'
    'About what?'
    'About the motto. Whether they have heard it or not.'
    Lady Amelia glanced at the Sub-prioresses and shrugged.
    'It's most uncommon,' she murmured.
    'The King would be pleased,' Corbett added.
    'In a little while then, Master Corbett. Perhaps you will take refreshment first?'
    Corbett agreed, allowing the Lady Prioress to serve him a full cup of malmsey whilst chattering about everyday matters and his recent trip to Woodstock. A bell tolled, the sign for Compline, and Lady Amelia led him down through the darkened cloister out across the grass to the church. Corbett sat on the same bench he had occupied the previous Sunday watching the nuns file in. At last, when all the stalls were full, Lady Amelia gestured to the cantor not to begin the usual psalms and caused a stir when she herself rose and swept up to the lectern.
    'Sisters in Christ,' she began, 'tonight we have a change in the regular order of our routine. Master Hugh Corbett, Clerk and Special Emissary from our King, wishes to address you. He has a question which on your loyalty to God, the King and this Order, you must answer if you can.'
    Corbett stared around whilst the Lady Prioress was speaking and noticed how troubled Dame Frances looked, but then the Lady Prioress snapped her fingers and imperiously summoned him forward. Drawing a deep