Hugh Corbett 06 - Murder Wears a Cowl Read Online Free Page A

groaned inwardly. He could deal with the King in one of his royal rages but Edward growing maudlin was both pathetic and highly dangerous. Corbett had attended the recent interview between the King and his eldest daughter who had secretly married someone whom the King considered beneath her. At first Edward had tried rage then tears and, when that did not work, beat his daughter, tossed her jewellery into the fire and banished both the hapless princess and her husband to the draughtiest manor house in England. The King’s rages could be even more dangerous. Corbett had heard of certain Scottish towns who’d had the temerity to withstand his sieges, being taken by storm and no quarter given to woman or child.
    The King clicked his fingers and de Warrenne, his dagger re-sheathed, served wine for them all. The old Earl then sat slurping noisily from his cup, now and again glaring at Corbett as if he wished to hack the clerk’s head clean off his shoulders.
    ‘Everyone leaves me,’ the King began mournfully. ‘My beloved Eleanor is dead. Burnell’s gone – do you remember the old rogue, Hugh? Hell’s teeth, I wish he was with me now.’
    The King wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and Corbett sat back to admire Edward-the-player in one of his favourite roles – the old King mourning past glories. Of course, Corbett remembered Eleanor, Edward’s beautiful Spanish wife. Whilst she had been alive, the King’s rages had been held in check. And Chancellor Burnell, Bishop of Bath and Wells: he had been a shrewd old fox who had loved Corbett as his own son.
    ‘Everyone’s gone,’ the King moaned again. ‘My son hates me, my daughters marry whom they wish. I offer the Scots peace and prosperity but they throw it in my face whilst Philip of France dances round me as if I was some benighted maypole.’ The King reached out and clasped Corbett’s wrist. ‘But I have you, Hugh. My right arm, my sword, my shield and my defence.’
    Corbett bit his lip sharply. He must not smile or stare at de Warrenne who now had his face deep in his wine cup.
    ‘I am begging you,’ the King wheedled. ‘Hugh, I need you. Just this once. Go to London, clear up this mess. You will see your wife, your baby child.’ The King’s grip tightened. ‘You called her Eleanor. I’ll not forget that. You’ll go, won’t you?’ The grip tightened even further.
    ‘Yes, your Grace, I’ll go. But when this is finished and the game is over, you will keep your word?’
    Edward smiled bravely though Corbett caught the mockery in his eyes.
    ‘I am not a chess piece, your Grace,’ Corbett murmured and glanced sideways. Was the Earl sniggering at him?
    ‘De Warrenne!’ Corbett snapped.
    The Earl looked up.
    ‘Next time you draw your dagger on me, my Lord, I’ll kill you!’ Corbett rose and walked towards the door.
    ‘Hugh, come back.’ The King was now standing, balancing the sword between his hands. ‘You’re no chess piece, Corbett, but I made you what you are. You know my secrets. I gave you wealth, a manor in Leighton. Now, I’ll give you more. Kneel!’
    Surprised, Corbett went down on one knee whilst the King with all the speed he could muster, touched his clerk once on the head then on each shoulder, slapping him gently on the face.
    ‘I dub you Knight.’
    The proclamation was short and simple. Corbett, embarrassed, knocked the dust from his tunic. Edward re-sheathed the sword.
    ‘In a month the chancery will send your letter of ennoblement. Well, Corbett, what do you say?’
    ‘Your Grace, I thank you.’
    ‘Bollocks!’ Edward snarled. ‘If de Warrenne threatens you again and you kill him I’ll have to execute you. But now you are a knight with a title and spurs, it will be a fight between equals.’ The King clasped Corbett’s hand. ‘You’d best go, my clerks will draw up the necessary letters, giving you my authority to act on these matters.’
    Corbett left as quickly as he could, secretly pleased about the honour