The Devil's Domain

are,’ de Fontanel snarled. ’You are a prisoner of the English but one day you must return to France .’
    Gaunt stared at Athelstan: from the Regent’s look, the friar realised that more proof would have to be given. He nodded slowly.
    ’We have all the evidence we need,’ he said. ’ It’s here in this hall, so sit down, Monsieur de Fontanel!’
    ’What evidence?’ The envoy looked shaken, nervous.
    ’First, we will search for Monsieur Vamier’s Ave beads and we will find them. We know you gave them to him! Secondly, Monsieur Gresnay here is going to rack his brains, and he will start recalling the minutiae, helpful little details.’
    ’And?’ de Fontanel asked.
    ’We have Monsieur Vamier. If we can prove, and we will, that his Ave beads are highly poisonous Abrin seeds then Vamier is a murderer. Be he French or English, my Lord of Gaunt will have him taken to the dungeons in the Tower where the interrogators will begin to work. Oh, they’ll piece the story together like I did. You don’t know Godbless, do you? He’s a poor beggar who lives in my cemetery; once he was a soldier and visited Venice . He talked of a man who should die but didn’t. And then I visited a Venetian galley berthed in the Thames . The captain was a merry fellow. Of course he knew about the Abrin seed, how the Council of Ten gave it to their criminals. He simply confirmed what I had learned from our librarian in Blackfriars as well as the gossip of little Godbless. A short while later I visited an apothecary near Cheapside . He confessed it was one of the secrets of his trade; he told me all about Abrin’s noxious properties.’ Athelstan ticked the points off on his fingers. ’ Venice , you have been there. Abrin seeds were on the Ave beads you gave to Vamier, he still has these.’ Athelstan gazed straight at Sir Maurice. ’And, finally, one of those assassins, the shaven-heads you sent against us? He didn’t die. He’s lodged in the Tower. I suspect he will recognise you and your voice. It’s wonderful what a man will do to escape the noose.’
    ’Both men are dead,’ de Fontanel insisted. He closed his eyes at his terrible mistake.
    ’How do you know that?’ Gaunt asked, getting up. He grasped de Fontanel by the shoulder. ’How do you know, Monsieur, about assassins who attacked a poor priest in Southwark?’
    ’I — I heard the rumours. My Lord Gaunt, I must leave here.’ He broke free and walked towards the door.
    Sir John looked helplessly on. The arrest of a foreign envoy was a serious matter.
    ’What about me? What about us?’ Vamier shouted.
    De Fontanel turned, his face pallid.
    ’You are going to leave me here to rot, aren’t you? I tell you this.’ Vamier strode forward. ’I’ll not go to the Tower! I’ll not dance on the end of a Goddamn’s rope for you!’
    ’Hush man, keep your nerve!’
    ’Keep my nerve!’ Vamier screamed. ’Here among the Goddamns! Have my flesh torn, my limbs racked!’
    ’Enough!’ Gaunt looked up into the darkness of the musicians’ gallery. ’Sir Walter, you have heard enough. Let sentence be carried out!’
    De Fontanel whirled round. There was a whirr through the air like a bird beating its wings, then the goose-quilled arrows struck their targets. De Fontanel’s neck was cruelly pierced, the shaft going through one side and out of the other. Vamier took two arrows, one in the shoulder, the second deep in his heart. Both men fell, legs kicking, choking on the pools of blood spilling out of their mouths. Gresnay sprang to his feet. He tried to run towards the door. Athelstan quickly seized him, shielding his body from the archers in the musicians’ gallery.
    ’For God’s sake!’ Athelstan hissed. ’If you move away from me, you are dead!’
    ’Ah, he’s safe enough,’ Gaunt called out. ’Only the guilty suffer.’ He held his hand up. ’Brother Athelstan, you have my word. Well done, Sir Walter, you may join us now.’
    There was a movement in the music loft and, a short while later, Sir Walter, accompanied by three master bowmen, entered the hall. Before anyone could stop him, Sir Walter kicked both corpses and walked threateningly towards Gresnay.
    ’My Lord of Gaunt,’ Athelstan protested, pushing Gresnay back on to the bench.
    ’1 wondered what was going to happen,’ the Regent said. ’I know you. little friar, you ferret out the truth! So, I placed Sir Walter and the bowmen in the shadows of the musicians’ gallery.’ Gaunt sighed