Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

hands resting in her lap.
    ‘But life changes,’ Corbett continued. ‘As the heart grows older it comes on colder sights. The harshness of age begins to freeze the joy of youth. You grew to hate your brother Henry. And why not? Perhaps you had good cause. A lord who feared neither God nor man. However, the Litzalans used their influence to make you prioress at St Hawisia’s: this became your castle, your fortress against the world of men. A community of women, devoted to the memory of a woman who had been killed by her own family.’ Corbett paused.
    ‘Are you going to say I killed my brother?’ Lady Madeleine asked coolly. She lifted her face. Corbett could see she had regained her wits.
    ‘Yes, you are a murderess,’ he replied. ‘You have the blood of many people on your hands: Lord Henry, Pancius Cantrone, Robert Verlian, as well as the whore Françoise Sourtillon.’
    ‘And pray, clerk, how did I murder these? And why should I?’
    ‘You don’t deny it,’ Corbett noted. ‘And you know of Verlian’s death.’
    ‘Gossip spreads quickly in Ashdown.’
    ‘Aye, it does. Let me go to the beginning.’ Corbett pointed at the tomb. ‘Your patron saint Hawisia is the cause of all these deaths, isn’t she? I learned how this shrine had been closed for a while.’ He gazed round the pink-washed walls. ‘Refurbished, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Stop your questions, clerk, and come to the point!’
    ‘Lord Henry came here,’ Corbett continued. ‘While you were away collecting your rents, acting lady of the manor. He brought that Italian physician Cantrone with him. Lord Henry was a cynic, constantly ridiculing you about your shrine and its sacred relic so he opened the glass case to examine the hair more carefully, or rather Cantrone did it for him. The glass case is fixed by clasps. A man skilled as Cantrone could loosen these and take the hair out. He examined its texture. He wanted to please his lord and prove that this was no relic. I don’t know what really happened but the hair decayed. Perhaps some contagion in the air? They put the hair back but it began to wither and rot. You returned and realised what had happened. The relic had been violated. Lord Henry returned to the priory. Did he come back to bait you? Rejoice in what he had done?’
    ‘Do you have proof of this?’ she asked. ‘Such blasphemy, such sacrilege would cause both uproar and outcry.’
    ‘I don’t think so, my lady. You had come back to St Hawisia’s. By your own admission you go away as rarely as possible. You hear your brother had been here, locking himself in the church. You recall his baiting, his cynical attacks upon your relic. The first thing you do is go and check. At first you see nothing disturbed, nothing out of place. But a day, maybe two days later, you notice the hair decaying. The shrine is closed and Lord Henry is immediately invited here. You are furious but you want to keep the matter secret. After all, the relic is a source of revenue as well as status. I can imagine Lord Henry’s malicious glee. How did you threaten him, eh? What happened during that furious, hushed row between brother and sister? Lord Henry must have realised the danger he had placed himself in. After all, if the relic was destroyed, you could claim it was due to sacrilege, a blasphemous act. Holy Mother Church does not like such actions. If the scandal reached Canterbury , Lord Henry could face excommunication. Now, for a powerful lord, one who hopes to lead an embassy to France on behalf of his King ...’ Corbett paused and let his words hang in the air.
    Further down the church he could see Ranulf sitting with his back to a pillar. Baldock sat beside him, whispering in his ear, and Corbett realised that Ranulf had found a new friend. He could tell by Baldock’s face that the groom was doing his best to console his new-found patron. Corbett glanced round. Lady Madeleine now had her hands folded as if in prayer. As she looked at him, her face smooth, eyes wide, he caught a glimpse of the beauty she must have been as a young woman but he also saw the glint of obsession, the gleam of a fanatic in her eyes.
    ‘Lord Henry must have sobered up,’ Corbett went on. ‘What he’d done as a jibe against his pious sister had gone terribly wrong. So he offers reparation, something which can please you both. The shrine will be sealed off for refurbishment; the walls repainted and gilded at his expense. This will hide the damage to the relic