The Relic Murders (30 page)

'It's true, isn't it?' Kempe taunted Egremont. 'It's true what Daunbey says? When we arrived here, both before and after the murders, your retainers were swarming about, no one would stop any of them.'

'When I met Boscombe at the Flickering Lamp,' Benjamin declared. "There was something about his face, his walk
...
I
was sure I had seen him before. Now I know that I caught a glimpse of him when we entered Malevel after the alarm was raised.' He sighed. 'But that is in hindsight. At the time, no one would have suspected his presence, all he had to do in the confusion was walk out of the door and take horse.'

'Why was the goldsmith tortured and killed?' Cornelius asked abruptly.

'Ah!' Benjamin glanced quickly at me.

'I think,' I intervened smoothly, 'that Egremont and Boscombe were intent on ensuring the Orb was the genuine relic, which is why they also murdered Henley the relic-seller. Once he had validated the Orb, he had to be silenced. Berkeley was next: they had to be sure their relic was genuine before they approached a prospective buyer.'

Lord be thanked that Cornelius did not realise how many replicas there were, or the real truth behind Henley's death!

'It is obvious,' I continued, 'that a leading goldsmith like Sir Hubert Berkeley would never go out and meet someone like Boscombe. Sir Thomas didn't send him the invitation, and neither did my master. However, Berkeley would accept an invitation from Lord Egremont. The goldsmith, still observing his vow of secrecy, went along but, instead of meeting Lord Egremont or Master Cornelius, Boscombe the Schlachter was waiting. Berkeley was pinioned, taken to that lonely place and brutally questioned. Lord Egremont, of course, was elsewhere, well seen by all, whilst his accomplice was busy torturing and interrogating Berkeley to find the truth.'

'They snuffed out Berkeley's life,' Benjamin declared, 'and then they sold the Orb to the outlaw leader, Lord Charon. Do you remember Lord Egremont involving himself in that fight in the sewers? He wanted to make sure that the Orb had gone. Of course it had, sold to the Papal Envoys.'

'So the Orb is in Rome or shortly will be?' Cornelius asked testily.

'No,' my master smiled. 'By a very clever subterfuge, Sir Thomas's agents at Dover replaced the genuine Orb with a replica. Isn't that right. Sir Thomas?'

Kempe, all smug and righteous, nodded solemnly.

'The Orb has been brought back to London,' he declared sonorously. 'But, Master Daunbey told me to keep it a secret.'

'Lord Egremont, you are a traitor and an assassin,' Benjamin said, getting to his feet. 'You are responsible for the deaths of six English archers and nine of your own countrymen. Men with families, lovers, wives and children. You and Boscombe killed, and killed mercilessly, for the sake of filthy gain.'

'You have no proof,' Egremont shouted back, half rising. 'Not one shred of evidence.'

'Oh, but we have,' Benjamin replied. 'Boscombe is in the Tower suing for a royal pardon. He has told us everything, including details of his former life. He even told us where we can find the valerian he used, in a secret compartment in his chamber. He blames you, holds you responsible
..
.' Benjamin looked at Kempe. 'Your men hold him closely, don't they?'

'He's in Byward Tower,' Kempe retorted. 'And has been since late last night.'

'He holds you responsible, Lord Theodosius,' Benjamin taunted. 'He even claims you forced him to do it.'

'He's a villain and a liar!' Egremont shouted back. 'It was his idea from the start!' He stood up and breathed in deeply. 'I am not a subject of your king,' he declared.

'So what will you do, my lord?' Kempe taunted. 'Ride down to the Thames and take ship to France?'

'I'll deny everything.'

'Theodosius, Lord of Egremont.' Cornelius got to his feet, holding out the purple seal. 'In my eyes you are guilty of high treason. My men will arrest you and take you back to the Emperor, where you and your family will suffer for your crimes. However, if you confess now

Egremont rose and turned his back to us, staring at the wall as if he did not want us to see the expression on his face.

'I confess.' He did not turn round. 'I confess, Master Cornelius, to save my family in the Empire. I do not want them to suffer for what I have done.' He turned and came back
to sit in his chair. 'I was born
in Hainault,' he began defiantly, 'and have always found it difficult to acknowledge the authority of the Hapsburgs, and being despatched here and there as the Emperor's lackey. Many years ago, Master Cornelius, before you joined the Noctales, I met Jakob von Archetel, a clever, subtle clerk. He stole a relic and murdered its owner. He was tried, found guilty, sentenced to death and was imprisoned in the dungeons of a small castle outside Dordrecht overlooking the sea. I helped him to escape. When I came to England, Von Archetel and I met again. I sometimes used him to collect information about the English court. Boscombe, as he now called himself, was deeply interested in relics. Time and again he'd talk of the Orb of Charlemagne.' He paused as if choosing his words.

I recalled Agrippa's warning that interest in that famous relic was rife amongst London's underworld. I now knew the reason.

'I couldn't believe my luck,' Egremont continued, 'when the Emperor chose me to go to England to receive the Orb from your king. I wrote to Von Archetel, who suggested Malevel as an appropriate setting for our scheme.'

'Thank you,' Benjamin spoke up. 'I always wondered, as I put the pieces of the puzzle together, how a lord from Hainault would know so much about this manor.'

'We were going to steal the Orb and sell it,' Egremont continued. 'We would divide the profits: Boscombe wanted to move on, and I decided to use the gold we earned to leave the Imperial service.'

'Did you know Lord Charon?' Benjamin asked.

'No, but Boscombe did. He said the outlaws would pay a good price. When we attached Charon in his cavern I had to make sure he was dead.' He smiled grimly. 'But your dog took care of that. And you, Master Daunbey and Shallot, who must be the luckiest man alive, took care of the rest. Ah well!' He shrugged.
^l
Sie
transit gloria mundi.
Boscombe was as guilty as I - the bastard should die!'

Theodosius, Lord of Egremont.' Master Cornelius walked towards him. 'You are an envoy of his most Imperial Highness. Sir Thomas, is it not true that this manor was given into our care?'

'Yes, yes, it was,' Kempe replied.

'So, in theory, we are within the Imperial jurisdiction?'

'According to all diplomatic protocols,' Kempe replied, his eyes watchful as he sensed what was coming next. 'Yes, this is Imperial territory.'

'In which case,' Cornelius pointed to Egremont. 'you, Lord Theodosius, have been accused, have confessed and been found guilty of treason and heinous murder. You are sentenced to death. I, by carrying this seal, have the Imperial authority to see it done!' Cornelius drew himself up. 'Sentence is to be carried out immediately!'

Egremont's face went white. He clutched the back of his chair. 'You have no authority,' he gasped. 'I have every authority, sir.'

Benjamin went to stop him but Cornelius knocked his hand away.

"The law is on my side.' He turned and shouted an order.

The Noctales who had accompanied him crowded into the room. He spoke to them in German, showing them the seal. The Noctales seized Egremont, plucking off his chain of office and taking off his war-belt. Egremont shouted something in German. Cornelius paused and nodded, then Egremont was thrust out of the room. Kempe made to protest but Cornelius ignored him.

'One of my men is a priest,' he declared, 'so he will be shriven and then he will die.'

He swept out of the room, and Kempe followed, with Agrippa trailing behind. Benjamin and I just sat and listened. We heard the sound of footsteps going out through the front door, and Cornelius shouting for a log to be brought from the store behind the manor. There was chattering, the murmur of voices, and then Cornelius shouted in German. This was followed by silence, cut short by the sound of a loud thump. A little later Cornelius came back into the hall. In one hand he held his bloody sword, in the other. Lord Egremont's cloak which he was using to wipe the weapon. He re-sheathed his sword and stared at us.

'Imperial justice has been done. Egremont's remains will be sent to St Mary of Bethlehem, north of the Tower. If his family want his body returned, they will have to pay for it.' He pulled the cowl over his head, pushing his arms up the voluminous sleeves of his gown. He walked towards us. 'Master Daunbey, I thank you. The Emperor will make his pleasure known.'

'You are a hard man, Master Cornelius,' Benjamin replied.

'I am his Imperial Highness's most humble servant.'

Cornelius's words were tinged with humour. 'Egremont was not a traitor,' he continued. 'He was just a thief. If I have understood Sir Thomas correctly, King Henry would have blamed both of you for what happened and I and the Noctales would have returned to Germany in disgrace.' Cornelius took his hands out of his sleeves. 'Egremont deserved to die, yet his was a more merciful death than that of poor Berkeley.' He smiled and, leaning over, brushed some dust from my shoulders. 'Sir Thomas seems a little confused.' He grinned. 'Boscombe isn't really in the Tower, is he?'

'No,' Benjamin replied. 'He's dead. I killed him last night and hid his corpse in the cellar of the Flickering Lamp.'

'I'll go there,' Cornelius replied. 'I want to make sure the Slaughterer is really dead.'

'And then?' I asked.

Cornelius struggled to keep his face straight.

'Tonight I shall take the Imperial Orb from Sir Thomas and, tomorrow, I shall leave on the first available ship - no more of this nonsense. The Emperor will be pleased to see his great relic'

'Are you sure it will be the genuine one?' (Old Shallot couldn't resist the taunt.)

Cornelius bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

'Come, Roger! Master Daunbey, please excuse us.'

Cornelius took me by the shoulder and led me through the hall and out into the courtyard. The Noctales were bustling about; Egremont's retainers already had the bloody corpse wrapped in a roll of blankets. One groom was taking away the log whilst another was bringing buckets of water to wash away the pool of blood congealing there. Kempe, Agrippa and others of their party had now gathered under the gateway.

'You wished to have words with me, Master Cornelius?'

The Noctale led me along the side of the house.

'You remind me of my brother, Roger.' He stopped and faced me squarely. 'Though you have more than his luck. You and your master unmasked a traitor. The Emperor will be well pleased.*

He poked me playfully in the chest. 'You will always be welcome in the Empire.' His face grew serious.
‘I
will also give you a warning. Your king is planning to divorce Catherine of Aragon, my master's aunt. Whatever Henry tries to bribe him with, the Emperor will not agree to this. Imperial troops will soon be in Rome: the Pope will not grant that divorce. Cardinal Thomas Wolsey will bear the brunt of your king's fury and, when that happens, remember the German proverb, "If lightning strikes, don't shelter under the tallest tree".' He clasped my hand. 'And as for relics,' he whispered, 'Roger, who really gives a fig?' The Noctale grinned. 'I know there's a great deal about this Orb which you, Master Benjamin and Sir Thomas have not told us. Why was Henley really killed, and Sir Hubert? What is the real secret of the Orb?' He shrugged. 'But, in the end, what does it really matter? True religion is a matter of the heart, not the pocket.' And then that strange man walked away, shouting for his retainers.

Oh, I have met the Noctales since but that's another story. Suffice to say they discovered Boscombe's corpse and, within the day, it was gibbeted at Tyburn for all to see. A short while later the Imperial envoys left the English court. Benjamin and I took lodgings in a different tavern until the Great Beast summoned us to call on him. Oh, he was in his most generous of moods! It was 'dearest Benjamin' and 'most beloved Roger'. He pawed and he kissed me. I could understand why: in his eyes, everything had gone according to plan and Henry was now a richer man: all Berkeley's goods and wealth came to him for the man had been a bachelor; Lord Charon's treasure was now in the Exchequer and, of course, the Flickering Lamp tavern, another source of wealth, also fell forfeit to the Crown. The Great Bastard loved treason: it meant forfeiture of all the traitor's goods and made him richer.

Benjamin and I were given purses of gold and assurances of friendship.

'And don't worry, Roger,' the King shouted down to us at a banquet. "There'll be no sea voyages for you on the
Peppercorn.
Go back, my faithful dogs!' he intoned dramatically. 'Go back and enjoy your well-earned rest!'