Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

while he tries to look for a replacement.’
    ‘And I accepted this, clerk?’
    ‘You had no choice. No relic, no pilgrims, no royal status.’ Corbett paused. ‘I wondered how you could be drawn into Sir William’s petty meddling with Gaveston and the Prince of Wales. You did it for one reason. Not because of any childhood friendship. No, help the Prince now and, when he became King, St Hawisia’s would become one of the most famous shrines in all of England . You couldn’t lose that.’ Corbett tapped the oaken sarcophagus. ‘Anyway, the shrine is sealed off. Workmen are not brought in till Lord Henry has fulfilled his side of the bargain. Unknown to you he goes to Rye . He buys the beautiful golden hair of a whore. He pays her off and bundles her aboard a ship to France . Her golden locks, her glory, are brought here, probably by Cantrone, a skilled physician. The hair is dressed in certain potions and unguents which will keep it fresh and supple. If decay occurs again it can always be replaced. The hair is brought secretly to the shrine. You open the glass case and replace the relic. The rest of the shrine is repainted and refurbished and, once again, opened to receive the prayers of the good nuns and the pious faithful. Now that should have been the end of the matter!’
    Corbett sat down beside her.
    ‘With any other man it would have been the end. Lord Henry had fulfilled his side of the bargain, but he had some control over you. He must have reminded you about that. How, if matters between you ever became bitter, he could deny his sacrilege but, perhaps, let it be known the true origins of your famous relic. Did he then tell you where it came from? Did he hint? Did he think that it was amusing and mock you with his revelation?’
    ‘As you said, sir clerk.’ Lady Madeleine turned her face. ‘Lord Henry feared neither God nor man.’
    ‘Unfortunately for both of you,’ Corbett continued, ‘someone found out what had been done: a brothel mistress from Rye . She had a special affection for the young whore Cecilia whose hair had been sacrificed. She made careful enquiries. She discovered that Cecilia had been sent abroad, so Françoise comes to Ashdown. Now, I doubt if Lord Henry would have told her why he plucked Cecilia’s golden tresses. However, Françoise Sourtillon was a woman of the world, wasn’t she? I suspect she came here to St Hawisia’s and visited the relic. One among many pilgrims. Françoise knew Cecilia’s hair, she had combed it often enough, she realised the truth behind your relic. Did she confront you? Or would the great prioress refuse to see her?
    ‘So, François writes you a letter. At first glance an innocent-looking missive but you would read between the lines. Did she threaten you with blackmail or public ignominy? You, of course, sent a sweet, innocent note back. Why shouldn’t Françoise come up and discuss these matters? Perhaps she could stay at the Devil-in-the-Woods tavern? Françoise, full of anger, would accept this. She wanted reparation. She wanted justice.’
    ‘And I left my priory and rode out and killed her?’ Lady Madeleine taunted.
    ‘I think it’s possible. You have your own house, kitchens and stable. There is a side gate leading from there into the forest. You answer to no one. You can issue an order that you are not to be disturbed and go riding. Dressed in a cloak and cowl who would suspect this was the prioress? You have fixed the date and time when Françoise should meet you. I checked with the taverner. Françoise stayed there one night, then the next morning she left the tavern. She walked along that lonely trackway to be at the prearranged meeting place at the appointed hour. It would be some lonely spot, not far from the tavern, a dell or a clearing? Perhaps you even offered to meet Françoise on the trackway?’
    ‘To send such a letter would be dangerous.’
    ‘Would it? Unsigned? Unsealed? Especially if you told Françoise to bring it for identification.’
    ‘She could have told someone else.’
    ‘Why should she, if blackmail was intended?’
    Lady Madeleine glanced away.
    ‘Meanwhile,’ Corbett continued, ‘you had left the priory by a secret route. Your bow and quiver of arrows were already hidden away. You’d be there in good time. You did the same as you did to me, threw a pebble on the track. Françoise stopped and looked up, the arrow shaft took her in the throat. You make sure the way is clear and you hurry across.