Spy in Chancery

east to west was the main business area of the city with the Cornmarket, butchers' shambles, the Tun Prison and the Great Conduit which gave the city its water.
    The boards of the traders were lowered, their protective awnings pulled out against the strong sun. Trade was brisk in everything from a pair of hose or cherries fresh off the branch, to a pair of gilt spurs or a satin shirt with cambric lace. A funeral cortиge passed, led by a friar, a quiet, sinister figure in his dark robes, pinched features staring from the cowl over his head. The mourners stumbled by, followed by the coffin on the shoulders of the bearers. Corbett heard the sobbing of the women and the deep-throated howl of a dog. Such sights seemed out of place on such a day, the crowds were out, the lawyers in fur capes on their way to the courts at Westminster: peasants in brown and green smocks coaxed their carts up to the market places ignoring the taunts and attempts at pilfer by a horde of ragged-arsed urchins. A column of mounted archers clattered by, prisoners in the middle, their hands tied to the saddle, ankles secured by chains under the horses' bellies.
    A courtesan, her face painted and her brows finely plucked, stepped daintily through the street, one red, velvet-gloved hand raising her laced dress to escape the mud. She glanced coyly at Corbett and walked on. The noise and bustle was intense: tradesmen plucked his sleeve and dinned his ears with shouts and offers of custom. Corbett, regretting his decision to walk, pushed his way through the crowd into the coolness of the 'Hooded Kestrel' tavern.
    It was a dirty, low-timbered room with a scattering of tables, up-turned barrels and a row of huge vats and kegs. Corbett ordered ale and a bowl of fish soup, he always found eating by himself an aid to logical analysis. He was troubled by what he had learnt: despite his victories in Scodand, the King was highly anxious, casting about like an imprisoned dog, lashing out at shadows, grasping the air and thinking it was substance. Corbett understood such anxiety but knew the traitor would only be caught through careful questioning, analysis and the application of logic. Corbett sipped thoughtfully from his tankard as he itemised what he knew about the traitor:
    Item: The person was close to Edward:
    Item: He had a swift, ingenious way of communication with the French which deflected all the efforts of Edward's searchers and spies:
    Item: The person seemed to be a member of the Earl of Richmond's household, the same baron who had so disastrously attempted to defend Gascony just a few months ago, when, so the King implied, the trickle of vital information to the French began:
    Item: It was only logical that Corbett start questioning members of Richmond's household who also had something to do with the council.
    Corbett smiled to himself. He felt better and, deciding on what he should do next, left the tavern and walked back to his lodgings in Thames Street. Ranulf was surprised to see his master smile for the first time in weeks and so took advantage of the situation to ask permission to go on an errand. Corbett, smiling absent-mindedly, nodded and Ranulf was off before the clerk could change his mind, the 'errand' was the attempted seduction of some lady and there was always the chance that Corbett might suspect something amiss. Ranulf clattered down the stairs, behind him the plaintive sound of the flute his master always insisted on playing when trying to solve some intricate problem.

EIGHT
    The following day Corbett was back at Westminster Palace. He would have liked to have interviewed the Earl of Richmond but 'My Lord,' so a haughty squire informed him, 'was gone on secret business of the King's.' Corbett walked off in search of Tuberville but the knight was absent on duties in the city so Corbett was left to kick his heels around the palace. He walked over to the abbey church, enjoying the warm sunshine as he watched the masons scampering like ants along the scaffolding against the north side of the abbey. Corbett was always fascinated by these magicians in stone and spent some time admiring the trellissed carved masonry, the huge grinning gargoyles depicting men, dogs, griffons and an array of grotesque faces. The abbey bells rang for prayer and Corbett wandered back to the Great Hall.
    The place was thronged with lawyers, officials, petitioners and plaintiffs. There were sheriffs in from the counties to present their accounts for the