The Relic Murders

will arrive here tomorrow and it will remain in its sealed coffer. The house will be shuttered and all doors locked and barred. No one can leave or enter, no matter what happens. This will last for five days until the Imperial caravel has docked in the Thames and all preparations carried out. The Orb will then be transferred to the ship. Until then, my master's relic will be left under the guard of fifteen men: nine Noctales and six of your archers. Do you agree, Sir Thomas?' Kempe nodded.
    'Outside,' Egremont continued, ‘I want dogs to patrol, both night and day. The gatehouse will be guarded by archers, and Cornelius will stay in the gatehouse along with Master Daunbey and his servant. I am satisfied,' Egremont declared, 'that there are no secret entrances and that my master's relic -' he emphasized each word '- will be safe.'
    'How do we know nothing will happen in the house?' Benjamin asked. 'We have planned for that,' Cornelius broke in. 'As the bells of St John's Clerkenwell chime for Matins in the morning, and again at Vespers in the evening, I will bring a shuttered lantern to a window on the first floor of the gatehouse. I shall show it three times. If no lamp is shone in reply, we will know something is wrong.' 'How long will this go on for?' Benjamin asked. 'For about five days,' Egremont replied. 'Until I am ready to sail.'
    I stared across the table at my master. He had his head down, one hand covering the lower half of his face. He had been listening carefully and I could see he was worried and so was I. If the Great Beast wanted the relic back and replaced with the fake, how could we do it? More importantly, how could I solve that vexatious riddle? My own fear deepened. The Great Beast would be hopping with rage at the way the Imperial Envoy had so cleverly tricked him, so woe betide poor Shallot!
    The conversation became more desultory as Kempe and Egremont hammered out the last details. Even then, before all the horrible and bloody murders began, a thought occurred to me. Why was the Orb being moved here, requiring such secrecy and all these guards? However, when your mind is concentrating on how to get a bloody fox, a chicken and a bowl of grain across the Thames, such Byzantine plans are not worthy of your attention. The meeting ended. As we left Malevel Manor, once again that feeling of unease deepened within me. I thought it was a Hall of Ghosts, a place of misery and sin. I wondered what had really happened to its former owner, the ancient Isabelle Malevel? My master was also quiet. I questioned him closely and found another reason for his misery. 'It's Miranda,' he replied dolefully. My heart skipped a beat. 'She's not unwell?'
    'No, worse. She has travelled north to stay with relatives in York. She went shortly after I went to Venice.'
    (Ah well, the affairs of the heart are always troublesome and, in this story, the beautiful Miranda does not figure but later on, oh yes, she plays a part!)
    Benjamin and I went out to the gatehouse and Cornelius joined us. We inspected our chambers: the gatehouse was quite extensive with two chambers on the top floor and two on the bottom, as well as a small buttery or kitchen. Cornelius took one of the top chambers and my master and I the lower two chambers. They were nothing more than narrow cells but they were comfortable. Cornelius inspected the window through which he would show the lantern and pronounced himself satisfied. We heard Kempe calling to us from below. My master went down but Cornelius caught at my sleeve as I prepared to follow. 'I like you, Shallot.' His hooded eyes held mine.
    'Oh, thank you very much,' I replied but grew uneasy. I wondered if Cornelius was one of those bum boys. I know I am not very pretty but, with some people, it's any port in a storm! ‘I have to go,' I declared. ‘I like you, Shallot.'
    'Yes, of course you do,' I said. 'And I am a great admirer of your good self.'
    ‘I had a brother just like you, who had a cast in one eye. He was as full of roguery as a vat is full of ale: he died of the plague in Innsbruck.' Those hooded eyes still gazed unblinkingly at me.
    'You should be very careful,' Cornelius continued. 'Your king is as mad – how do you say – as a March hare?'
    'Nonsense!' I replied. 'He's one of the wisest men in Christendom.' Cornelius smirked. 'Read that on the way back." He handed across a scrap of parchment. I walked to the door.
    'Oh, and Shallot, take this.' Cornelius came over and dropped a