Spy in Chancery

he surrendered and was accepted into my peace.' Corbett looked at Edward's strained face. 'Then why not arrest him, he is a traitor?'
    'Hearsay,' Edward testily replied. 'No real evidence except Talbot's letters. Talbot himself is now dead.' Lancaster rose and shuffled to the open window.
    'Look,' the Earl said quietly, 'All these are symptoms. Poer, Fauvel, Talbot and French involvement in Wales are only symptoms of a deeper disease, treachery. Find the traitor, root him out and all the rest dies.' There was silence as Edward stared at his brother.
    'Waterton,' the King said abruptly. 'Waterton must be the spy, the traitor, his mother was French, he has more wealth than he should have even if his father was a rich merchant. There is more, Waterton's father was a supporter of de Montfort.'
    Corbett straightened up and looked sharply at the King. In 1265 de Montfort, the great rebel against Henry III, the King's father, had finally been destroyed at the Battle of Evesham and a savage civil war was brought to a close. London and its merchants had been fervent supporters of de Montfort. Hundreds of them died or had been fined for their support. Old wounds still rankled deeply. Corbett knew that only too well, years earlier Edward had used him to seek out and destroy supporters of the dead de Montfort.
    'Your Grace,' Corbett urged, 'we have enough evidence now, arrest Waterton and stop his treason.'
    'Nicely said,' Edward replied, 'But evidence – do you need it?'
    'No.'
    'But what if you are wrong? What happens if Waterton is only a pawn? After all, he was a member of Richmond's household, it was the Earl who recommended him to my service and it was the Earl who lost my army in Gascony.'
    'Do you suspect the Earl of Richmond?' Corbett asked.
    'He is French, he has land there and God knows how he lost my army?'
    Edward rose and paced the room. The French,' the King continued, 'launched their attack on Gascony in 1293. In the autumn of 1294, Brittany landed my army at La Reole and garrisoned it. In the spring of 1295, the French laid siege to the town and, within a fortnight, a fortnight! Brittany had surrendered both town and army.'
    'Your Grace thinks that Brittany may be the traitor?' Corbett asked.
    'Possible, it is possible.' Edward replied.
    'If the traitor is here in Westminster,' Lancaster broke in, 'how do they communicate with the French? Philip has no envoys in London, all ports and ships are searched. None of our spies in the French ports have noted any exchange of letters.'
    Through Wales or Scotland?' Corbett asked hopefully.
    'No,' the King replied, The information is sent too quickly. Philip seems to know what I have decided within days. No,' the King concluded, The information is sent from here.'
    'Are there any letters sent to France?' Corbett asked.
    'Official letters to Philip,' Edward replied, 'as well as letters to the hostages.'
    'Hostages?'
    'Yes, when Brittany surrendered, several of the knights could only ransom themselves by giving hostages to the French, in most cases, children. The knights write regularly to these.'
    'Do any of the knights serve on the council or know any of its business?'
    'No,' the King replied. 'Only Tuberville, Thomas de Tuberville. A baron from Gloucestershire. He serves as a knight of the chamber, he is Captain of the Guard.'
    'Could he listen in?'
    'No,' Edward answered, 'No one can listen through oaken doors and thick stone walls. Moreover, Tuberville hates the French, his letters attest to that.'
    'How does your Grace know?'
    'Like the rest, copies of his letters are kept in the Chancery files.'
    'Talk,' Lancaster abruptly interrupted, 'All talk, everything points to Richmond. We would do well to put him, Waterton, Tuberville, anyone who has anything to do with him into prison.'
    Edward rose and paced the room. 'No,' he said, 'Not yet.' He pointed at Corbett, 'You will pursue what we know. You will first visit Lord Morgan in Wales and ask him some pertinent questions.' Corbett's heart sank but one look at the cold, tired eyes of the King warned him that any objections would be ruthlessly dealt with.
    A day later Corbett and Ranulf were preparing for the journey. Ranulf objected but Corbett sternly told him to carry out his orders for clothes, weapons, provisions and horses would be needed. Corbett himself wandered out into the streets, wanting to think, to reflect on his recent interview with the King. He strolied up into Cheapside, the broad highway sweeping from