Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

to Lady Marcellina and Sister Fidelis I can arrange that. But there is little more I can say.’
    Corbett scratched his head; he was tired and nothing made sense.
    ‘And Seigneur de Craon?’ he asked. ‘The French envoy, has he ever come here?’
    ‘He made two visits to our shrine. I met him on one occasion. I did not like his impudent eyes, but I know nothing of his dealings with my brothers.’ She rose to her feet. ‘But you wished to see the sisters I have named?’
    Corbett made to refuse.
    ‘No, I insist!’
    And, without a word, Lady Madeleine left the room. A short while later the harsh-faced Lady Marcellina, together with a smiling Sister Fidelis, her fingers wreathed in bandages, came into the room. Corbett questioned them. Sister Fidelis was subdued but smiled at him with her eyes.
    ‘Oh yes,’ she declared, glancing sideways at Lady Marcellina. ‘My knuckles began to swell like small plums. I showed this to Lady Marcellina and she told our prioress.’
    ‘And the physician was sent for?’
    ‘One of the grooms must have brought him,’ the novice mistress said.
    ‘You don’t have a leech and an apothecary here?’
    ‘Sir Hugh, we are nuns, not physicians. Sister Fidelis’ fingers did alarm Lady Madeleine. Moreover, the Italian had been invited here on a number of occasions to treat certain of our sisters. He was a man skilled in the use of physic.’
    ‘Was?’ Corbett queried.
    Lady Marcellina forced her face into a sympathetic smile.
    ‘Lady Madeleine has told us the terrible news of how the poor man was murdered after he left here.’
    ‘Did he say or do anything untoward?’ Corbett asked.
    He heard the door open beside him and Lady Madeleine returned.
    ‘All I know,’ Lady Marcellina said in exasperation, ‘is that I was summoned to the prioress’s chamber. She introduced the physician and told me to take him to Sister Fidelis. He examined her knuckles, pronounced the swellings were deep bruises under the skin. He recommended a herbal poultice.’
    ‘And then what?’
    ‘Sister Veronica brought him some food and drink. He ate, drank and left.’
    Corbett gazed at the young nun, who listened round-eyed to her superior, all the time nodding her head in agreement.
    ‘He did seem distracted,’ Sister Fidelis offered. ‘Oh, he was kind and patient but it was as if his mind were elsewhere.’
    ‘If there’s nothing else, Sir Hugh?’ Lady Madeleine murmured.
    ‘No, my lady, there’s nothing else.’
    ‘Well, stay there a while, I will send some food and drink. You must refresh yourself before you leave. Please.’ Lady Madeleine smiled. ‘I feel, Sir Hugh, as if I have been discourteous. I would like to give you a gift before you leave. Our honey is famous throughout Sussex . Sister Veronica will bring you a jar. In the meantime let our kitchens refresh the inner man.’
    Corbett was about to object but he realised he was being churlish so he agreed. The three nuns left. Corbett finished the mead. He heard the bells of the priory calling the sisters to prayer.
    ‘I’ll be back in the tavern by late afternoon,’ he murmured to himself. ‘I’ll put down everything I’ve learned today. Study it, look for the gaps.’
    The door opened and Sister Veronica came in bearing a small platter with roast hare, covered in a thick wine sauce, a goblet of wine and a small bowl with a manchet loaf cut up, the portions covered in butter.
    Corbett ate the food hungrily. It was delicious and reminded him of Maeve’s skill in the kitchen. When Sister Veronica returned, now silent and morose, she gave him a small leather bag containing two jars sealed with parchment and twine.
    ‘You’ll not find better honey in the kingdom,’ she declared.
    Corbett pushed away the trauncher, grasped the bag and rose.
    ‘Then, Sister Veronica, all I can ask of you is to show me out and I’ll be gone.’
    The little nun led him from the guest house, through the grounds and out by the side postern door.
    ‘And, before you ask!’ she snapped. ‘Yes, this is where the corpse was found!’
    Before Corbett could make a reply, she slammed the door shut in his face. Corbett tied the leather bag to his war belt, eased the strap, pulled his cloak around him and walked across the heathland into the trees, following the path which would lead him down to the trackway and the Devil-in-the-Woods. The day was drawing on. He was distracted by the birdsong, and by crashing in the thicket; he stopped to watch two