The Devil's Domain

think so, my lord, but...’
    ’Ah, there you are!’ Sir John, accompanied by Gervase, walked into the hall. ’I’ve just been up to see the prisoners. They are both frightened. Our other guests have not arrived yet.’
    ’My guards, where are they?’ Gaunt asked.
    ’Everywhere but the mice-holes. And there are some men dressed in gowns and hoods. They must be your men, Gervase?’
    ’My lovely lads,’ the Keeper of the House of Secrets simpered back. ’They go where I do and keep an eye on their patron. In fact, we are a most pleasing choir, be it a madrigal or the introit to a Mass. ’
    ’Shall we begin?’ Gaunt interrupted harshly.
    ’I think we should,’ Athelstan replied. ’Sir John, if you could seal the doors?’
    ’Don’t we need the prisoners here?’ Gaunt asked.
    ’No, my lord, at least not for the time being.’
    ’Well,’ Gaunt waved his hand. ’The truth, my good friar?’
    ’The St Denis and St Sulpice ,’ Athelstan began as Cranston closed the doors, ’were two French warships, pirates, marauders in the Narrow Seas . They were like cats among the mice, snapping up the English merchantmen. You, Sir Maurice, sank one and captured the other.’
    ’We know that,’ Gaunt drawled.
    ’How did you capture them, Sir Maurice?’
    ’I told you, Brother. I was in Dover when news arrived by messenger from London that the wine fleet would be leaving Calais . We were to put to sea and ensure its safe passage across. You know the rest.’ He spread his hands.
    ’It was luck, wasn’t it?’ Athelstan asked, staring at Gaunt. ’Absolute good fortune that the English ships came upon the St Denis and St Sulpice. My lord Regent, Sir Gervase, the English had no spies aboard either ship, did they?’
    Gaunt smiled to himself , Gervase looked away.
    ’When the St Sulpice was brought into Dover ,’ Athelstan continued, ’and the prisoners taken ashore, the French officers were kept separate, weren’t they?’
    ’Of course,’ Sir Maurice said. ’ It’s common practice!’
    ’And you, Gervase, when they came here, visited them?’
    ’Naturally, they might hold information which would be useful to us.’
    ’And what did you find?’
    Gervase now refused to meet his gaze.
    ’Nothing.’
    ’But you, my Lord of Gaunt, dropped hints, light as a feather, how this good fortune of war was really the result of treason among the French.’
    Gervase glanced at the Regent; Gaunt picked up the apple core and chewed at it.
    ’Go on, friar,’ he murmured.
    ’My lord, you couldn’t believe your good fortune. Two of the most dangerous ships in the French navy had been destroyed or taken, their captains and officers either killed or captured. You had the prizes as well as the ransom money for the hostages but you decided there was more to win.’
    Gaunt was now smiling to himself.
    ’The spy Mercurius, the professional assassin at the French court, what a marvellous way to trap him! Let it be known, and I am sure you could do this through our envoys at the truce negotiations, that one of the prisoners at Hawkmere was one of your spies.’
    ’Very good,’ Gervase commented. ’Brother Athelstan, you really should work in the House of Secrets.’
    ’You were playing with men’s lives,’ Athelstan went on. ’The French court was furious that the spy, responsible for the destruction of two of their finest ships, could now look forward to honourable retirement as a pensioner in the Palace of the Savoy . Orders were issued and Mercurius began his bloody work.’
    ’Brother, Brother.’ Gaunt shook his head in admiration as if they were playing chess or a game of hazard. ’You forget these were French prisoners, they were held for ransom. If they die, I lose the money.’
    ’A very small price, my lord. You invest one pound and recoup a treasure. The French would not use their deaths to break the truce. What would they care as long as the spy was destroyed?’
    Sir Maurice looked bemused. He scratched his head and beat at the table-top.
    ’But, Brother, who is Mercurius, where is he? How could he poison so expertly? Why kill that poor girl? And Maneil shot with a crossbow bolt?’
    Athelstan ignored him.
    ’My Lord of Gaunt, do I speak the truth?’
    ’You do, Brother. “Put not your trust in Princes,” the psalmist says. Believe me, Athelstan, never were words so inspired. Outside of London the Great Community of the Realm conspires and plots. Across the Narrow Seas the French wait, ready