Prince of Darkness

head.
    'Did another stranger come here about the same time?'
    'Oh, yes,' the tavern-keeper replied. 'A young, well-dressed fop, though armed. He carried a sword and dagger.'
    'Did you see his face?'
    'No. He arrived early in the morning to break his fast just as the young woman I mentioned earlier was leaving. He was cloaked and hooded. I thought that strange because the weather was fair.'
    'So, how do you know he was well-dressed?'
    'There were rings on his fingers. His jerkin was of red satin. As I said, he broke his fast and left within the hour.'
    Corbett rose as if about to leave.
    'The woman,' Ranulf broke in, 'did she have a lap dog?'
    The fellow's rubicund face broke into a gap-toothed grin,
    'Yes, she did, a little yappy thing wrapped up in her cloak. She fed it tidbits, morsels of bread soaked in milk. I remember it well It whined every second it was here.'
    Corbett left the tavern elated with what he had found out and they continued their journey to the outskirts of Oxford. Sometimes his questions only provoked blank glances, muttered oaths and shaken heads. But at two other taverns he elicited the same responses he had at Stokenchurch: a young woman and her male companion, both olive-skinned and quiet, with a less than perfect command of English. The boy, apparently a page, always did the talking. The woman seemed pious and withdrawn: indeed, one of the innkeepers actually described her as a nun. More ominously, the well-dressed young stranger always appeared at the tavern around the same time the mysterious woman and her page were about to leave. At last, to his own satisfaction and Ranulf's apparent pleasure, Corbett decided they had found what they wanted and ordered them to turn back and travel south.
    They reached Leighton Manor soaked and saddle-sore. Ranulf and Maltote disappeared like will-o'-the-wisps whilst Corbett received one of Maeve's lectures about the need to rest, as wed as the dangers of charging about on the King's business in weather not fit for the worst of sinners. Corbett heard her out, torn between his desire to sleep and excitement at what he had discovered.
    Once night had fallen and the manor was quiet, he rose, took out his parchment and again began to fit the puzzle together. He had the events at Godstowe in some semblance of order. Now he concentrated on the mysterious murders in the forest. He believed the woman to have been connected to the attainted Deveril family; the motto on the dog collar could not be dismissed as a coincidence. She was also a foreigner. The Roll of Kenilworth had indicated that there was no legitimate Deveril issue so was she of some bastard line? If so, the Deverils were still proscribed so why had she been allowed to enter England and, undoubtedly, to travel to Godstowe, a sensitive place where a former royal mistress had been incarcerated. Who was the young page, and the mysterious young fop who had trailed them? And what happened in the forest outside Godstowe? Who had murdered whom? It was logical to conclude the young fop was the assassin but it could have been the young page or, indeed, a complete stranger. And was the mysterious woman the murder victim or was it someone else? She had apparently been travelling to Godstowe and must therefore have been expected. So she must have arrived…
    Corbett threw the quill down in disgust The priory contained many nationalities and all the nuns, even Lady Amelia and Dame Agatha, spoke in the Frenchified manner after the fashion of the court That young fop… Perhaps it had been the Prince or Gaveston? Corbett went back to his notes about Lady Eleanor's death, twisting and turning them. Daylight had long broken when he reached the inevitable conclusion: he was ready to confront the murderer. One final piece of the puzzle remained. A protesting Maltote was roused and ordered to ride as fast as he could to the royal camp outside Bedford. Corbett entrusted Mm with a short letter in which he asked the King to supply simple answers to what Corbett considered simple questions. Nevertheless, the clerk was still uneasy: his theory was well argued but there was little evidence and he wondered if the royal answer would come in time to prevent another murder at Godstowe Priory.

Chapter 13
    After Maltote had gone, Corbett paced the chambers and galleries of his manor, making himself a nuisance to both Maeve and his household. He found it difficult to sleep at night, anxious lest his delay might cause further tragedy