The Grail Murders

'Otherwise the King's lawyers will spin their web and have you hanged at Tyburn. You'd best go now.'
    Benjamin straightened up as if he was listening carefully. 'Your servants are wise, Sir John. They have already gone. I suggest you do likewise.'

Chapter 14
    We left the hall and I became aware of how true Benjamin's words were. We wandered into the scullery. The fires had been doused and only a half-witted spit boy sat smiling amongst the ashes. Outside in the cobbled yard the story was the same; ostlers, grooms, stable boys, all had fled. (Looking back there was nothing singular in that. I had been to enough great houses where the lord had fallen from royal favour and it's eerie how quickly the word spread. The effect was always the same: desertion and flight.) The only sounds were the soldiers hurrying along the corridors.
    Sir John and Lady Beatrice left the hall and slipped like shadows up the stairs. Benjamin was right. For the moment Mandeville was concerned only with Rachel but, once more soldiers arrived, Sir John and Lady Beatrice would be arrested. Old Henry would have little compassion for them.
    'Come,' Benjamin muttered, 'let us ride out the storm in your chamber.'
    We walked up the stairs. The soldiers were already breaking into rooms, intent on full-scale pillaging. The chamber servants had also disappeared and I marvelled how quickly this stately mansion was collapsing in chaos. I was all agog with curiosity but Benjamin refused to say anything until I locked my chamber door behind us. 'Did you always know it was Rachel?' I asked. 'No, I had a number of suspects. They included Mandeville and Southgate and Sir John Santerre and his wife. But I suppose murder has its own logic and everything pointed towards Rachel.' He ticked the points off on his fingers. 'The scarlet cords, the easy access to gunpowder in Templecombe's cellars, the litheness and suppleness of the assassin in the Templar church, as well as the young woman's movements both on the night Cosmas died and when we discovered Damien's body in the chapel.' 'But how did you make her confess?'
    'Ah!' Benjamin lay down on the bed and stared up at the rafters. 'That, my dear Roger, will have to wait until our return to London. But for the moment, let us be patient and wait a while.'
    He closed his eyes and I was left to twiddle my thumbs whilst all around us I could hear the sound of breaking doors and the running steps of soldiers. Mandeville came up to render grateful thanks, though he had the look of a vindictive hunter. *I cannot find Sir John or Lady Beatrice,' he stated. Benjamin hardly moved. 'Do you know where they are, Master Daunbey?'
    'Oh, for God's sake, Sir Edmund, you have found your quarry and the King will have Templecombe and its estates. If the Santerres have fled, let them go!'
    Mandeville shifted from foot to foot. 'The King will hear of this.'
    'His Grace the King will also hear of our great industry in this matter,' I taunted back. 'If it had not been for Master Daunbey, who knows where this would have ended?' 'How is Mistress Rachel?' Benjamin asked. 'Cold, distant and unrepentant.' Benjamin rolled over on the bed, resting his head on his hand. He looked up at Mandeville. 'She is not to be harmed. No brutality or violation.' Mandeville looked away.
    'Sir Edmund, I want your word on that, or I promise you this – the Lord Cardinal will get to hear of it! Sir Edmund,' Benjamin insisted, 'you owe me something.'
    'You have my word,' Mandeville muttered. 'She will be given food and drink. Tomorrow morning she will be taken to London.' He moved to the door then suddenly turned back. 'Southgate will be left here with some of the soldiers until my return when I will root out this nest of traitors!' He left, slamming the door behind him.
    We stayed in my chamber most of the day. A soldier brought up some badly cooked meat and a jug of wine after which I walked along the gallery. The cloths and tapestries had been wrenched from the walls whilst in the hall every precious object had been removed. The kitchens were pillaged, the soldiers were even defecating and relieving themselves in the corners of rooms, whilst some heartless bastard had shot two of the greyhounds. Templecombe now looked as if the French had landed and the manor been turned over to pillagers.
    I wandered out into the chill night air, wondering if I should visit Rachel Santerre and ensure that Mandeville was keeping his word. Behind me I could hear the sound of