by Paul Doherty
‘Of course,’ Peter the chaplain breathed. ‘The Constable was acting strangely, he took me into the recess. He had his hands clasped against his chest as if in prayer. He then looked at me, muttered something about talking to the Irishman, spun on his heel and walked away. Webster must have realised Sparrow’s manacles had been loosened, though,’ the priest added, ‘Sparrow could have first struck the turnkey and taken his keys.’
‘True,’ Colum replied. ‘But that would have led to a scuffle, some form of struggle. According to what we were told, Sparrow went into a darkened recess, the turnkey followed, and Sparrow killed him by throttling him. The turnkey must have been taken completely by surprise. Sparrow then changed clothes and disappeared.’ Colum shrugged. ‘As his manacles were damaged, Sparrow must have had an accomplice in the castle. This is what Webster suspected.’
‘And Sparrow?’ Peter the chaplain asked.
‘Oh, under the pretence of continuing their association, Gabele later met him in the deserted meadows along the Stour: he killed Sparrow, decapitated his corpse and flung it into the Stour.’
‘When we brought Sparrow’s corpse here,’ Kathryn intervened, ‘we established that he had escaped, probably through his own cunning. Webster knew different. We concentrated on the possibility that Sparrow may have then tried to blackmail someone here in the castle and been murdered.’ She shrugged. ‘In truth it was the other way around: Sparrow was allowed to escape so he could be silenced about what he knew.’
‘Why should I do all this?’ Gabele muttered.
‘Ah!’ Kathryn pushed her chair back. ‘Now we come to the heart of the matter. Brandon was imprisoned in Canterbury Castle. He keeps his mouth shut but begins to intimate to Gabele that he is a possessor of a great secret; he knows where a precious treasure is hidden. He gives no clues except a quotation from the psalms: “Levate Oculos ad Montes,” “Lift your eyes to the hills.”’
‘Why should Brandon tell Gabele?’ Fletcher asked.
‘Oh,’ Colum answered, ‘better treatment, a swift pardon. Brandon was a killer. Once he was free, Gabele would be just another obstacle to be overcome or removed. Until then’ – Colum spread his hands – ‘Gabele would be fed tidbits such as the treasure was hidden in a church. Gabele, keeping his own greed under control, entered into a pact with Brandon, but Sparrow, in the gap between the cells, overheard what was going on.’
‘So Sparrow,’ Kathryn continued, ‘blackmailed Gabele: either he escaped or he would tell everything to Webster. Gabele agreed. Sparrow’s manacles were unlocked and, seizing his opportunity, Sparrow killed the turnkey and escaped. Gabele, in his turn, kills Sparrow, and then, when our master-at-arms realises Webster is becoming suspicious, arranges the Constable’s death as well.’
‘But why?’ the Righteous Man spoke up.
Kathryn noticed how all the pardoner’s pretended gestures had now disappeared; the man was cold, hard, watchful.
‘But why did Gabele kill the prisoner?’ The Righteous Man leaned forward and stared at Kathryn. ‘You did say he killed the prisoner?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Kathryn replied. ‘Gabele realised that if the treasure was hidden in a church, it must be a place not used. Gabele would know the area around about Canterbury and the deserted village at Sellingham, so he decided to take his chance. After all, he would have all the time in the world, and once Brandon was dead, he wouldn’t have to share the booty. Moreover, if both Brandon and Sparrow were sent to their Maker, Gabele’s reputation was also protected.’
Kathryn sat down. ‘Brandon’s death was easy to arrange,’ she continued. ‘Hemlock is as common as the grass in the fields. Margotta, his daughter, brought Brandon his meals, so Gabele simply mixed the poison into the food. A sudden sickness, high fever and unconsciousness would ensue, and the prisoner’s gone before he can protest or realise he has been tricked.’
‘Surely,’ Fletcher whispered, ‘Brandon would have suspected?’
‘What happens if he did?’ Colum replied. ‘What could he say? Confess to Father Peter or Webster that he was being poisoned because he knew where a great treasure lay? Killer though he may be, I doubt if Gabele even bothered to think that the prisoner was in a deep coma and might revive in the grave only to meet an even more terrible death.’
‘Why didn’t Gabele find the treasure?’ Fletcher asked.
Kathryn stared down at the master-at-arms who sat, both hands on the table, lost in his own thoughts. By the man’s drawn white face and slumped shoulders, Kathryn knew she was speaking the truth.
‘Oh,’ she murmured, ‘he was looking, but he overlooked Brandon’s prayer, as did the other person searching for the Eye of God.’
The Righteous Man rapped the table-top. ‘Who else was there? And how did he know about the pendant?’
Kathryn smiled at the pardoner. ‘Oh, I think you know the answer to that,’ she whispered. ‘You are no pardoner; your name is Reginald Moresby, captain of the guard to the late Earl of Warwick, recently slain at the battle of Barnet.’
The pardoner stared coolly back.
‘I am right, am I not?’ Kathryn could have sworn the man’s eyes smiled at her. ‘It’s the only logical explanation.’
‘You have nothing to fear,’ Colum added. ‘Master Moresby, I swear, by all that is holy, if you tell the truth, I will personally guarantee a King’s pardon is issued to you.’
The pardoner was about to protest, then he sighed and, wrenching the garish necklace of relics from his neck, threw it on the table.
‘When all is said and done,’ he whispered, ‘all is said and done. Let me tell you a tale, Mistress Swinbrooke, to chill the marrow of your soul. I am Reginald Moresby of Newport in Shropshire, captain of the guard to the late, and well-beloved, Earl of Warwick. God forgive us, both I and Brandon fled from Barnet carrying the Eye of God. For a few weeks we skulked in woods, remote parts, away from the thoroughfares and crossroads. My main aim was to reach Christchurch Priory in Canterbury and then ride south to Dover to take ship to France. However, the countryside was crawling with Yorkist soldiers. There were, including myself, six of us: Warwick’s most trusted men, or so I thought. It was Brandon who was carrying the Eye of God. He claimed to know of a deserted village and church where we might hide. We gave this information to Nicholas Faunte when we met him whilst hiding in Blean Wood.’ Moresby wetted his lips. ‘After we met Faunte we split up. I left Brandon and the other four whilst I tried to discover what had happened to Warwick’s body as well as plot the safest route into Canterbury and on to Dover. Now the rest of the party trusted me and I left the Eye of God with them.’ He shrugged. ‘It was also a guarantee that I would return. I was weeks on the road and lost more time hiding from a party of Yorkist moss troopers. Now, we had agreed to meet at Sellingham. I reached the village. The rest of my companions had been there, but I could see no sign of them. I began to search, yet it was still so dangerous I kept in hiding, thinking my companions had moved on.’
‘Why did you disguise yourself as a pardoner?’ Kathryn asked.
Moresby smiled bleakly. ‘I thought it was appropriate. Do you know your Chaucer, Mistress Swinbrooke?’
‘More than you think!’ Kathryn retorted.
Colum coughed drily.
Moresby ran his fingers through his strangely dyed hair.
‘In the “Pardoner’s Tale,”’ he continued, ‘a group of young men end up killing each other over a precious hoard. Now, when I first visited the deserted village and found no one, I thought Brandon and the rest had been forced to flee. I then heard of Brandon’s capture and imprisonment in Canterbury Castle. I could discover no sign of the rest and began to wonder if some terrible crime had been committed. Chaucer’s “Pardoner’s Tale” occurred to me and, strangely enough, in a tavern outside Maidstone, I met one of these creatures. I noticed how he could wander the length and breadth of the kingdom without being troubled, so I spent every penny in my wallet buying his relics, clothes and licences. I found a corpse beaten and
disfigured in a ditch; I gave it my clothes and possessions. I became the Righteous Man and travelled directly to Canterbury.’ Moresby spread his hands. ‘You know the rest. I approached Sir William Webster, saying the hostels and taverns were full, and could I buy a bed in the castle? Webster, of course, agreed. I bided my time and visited Brandon.’ He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘It was after Sparrow had escaped. Brandon was full of himself. He knew who I was but couldn’t betray me without betraying himself. He claimed he didn’t know where the rest of his party was or the Eye of God.’ Moresby shook his head. ‘I knew he was lying.’ He looked in puzzlement at Colum. ‘I returned to that deserted village a number of times but could find nothing. So how did you?’
Colum told him. The rest of the company sat in shocked silence at the Irishman’s stark description of what they had discovered in the burial vault beneath the derelict church. Moresby’s face grew even paler. He sat open-mouthed, not even attempting to brush away the tears which rolled down his cheeks.
‘You found them?’ he whispered. ‘Like that?’
‘Aye,’ Colum murmured.
Moresby put his face in his hands. ‘Oh, God, have mercy on them!’ he cried softly. ‘Oh, Christ, have mercy on them!’ He pulled his head back. ‘And God damn Brandon! He murdered them, didn’t he?’
‘I think so,’ Colum replied. ‘Brandon knew about the burial vault. He wanted the Eye of God and laid his plans. He plotted to take you all to that church and bury you alive in that vault. The stone is fashioned so it can be opened from the outside but not from within. He must have suggested the vault as a hiding place, invented a reason to leave the four others, and left the Eye of God to ensure his return. As the vault-lid closed, they must never have dreamt that it would not open again.’ Colum looked sideways at Gabele, who seemed now to be a shadow of his former self. ‘Gabele may be a murderer, but Brandon was a demon in human form. He knew those men would die. He could always tell some fairy-tale if you ever returned. He might have waited for years before coming back for that treasure.’
‘But why did he let me capture him so easily?’ Fletcher spoke up. ‘I mean, I caught this killer in the open fields sleeping by his horse?’
‘I’ve answered that,’ Kathryn said. ‘Brandon wanted to be captured. He’d spend a short time in prison, receive a pardon, slip back into a normal life and bide his time.’
‘In which case,’ Peter the chaplain spoke up, ‘why didn’t Brandon use a false name?’
‘I asked him that,’ Moresby said. ‘But the bastard just smiled sweetly.’ He laughed sourly. ‘Afterwards I realised how clever he was. First, as Warwick’s body squire, he could, if forced, claim he had no knowledge of the Eye of God and sow the seed that the Earl might have given it to someone else. Secondly, it was a way of silencing me. Don’t you see, if I came forward claiming to be Moresby, I would have to answer some very embarrassing questions.’
‘Father.’ Margotta stepped out of the shadows where she had been hiding. She looked as white as a ghost, her pretty face now haggard. ‘Father,’ she repeated hoarsely, ‘what is this?’
‘Oh, my God!’ Gabele groaned.
Kathryn glanced quickly at Colum and steeled herself.
‘Stay where you are!’ she ordered.
‘What do you mean?’ Margotta moved hesitantly towards her father.
‘Were you his accomplice?’ Kathryn accused. ‘After all, you took the prisoner’s food down to him.’
‘Shut up, you clever bitch!’ Gabele snarled from the bottom of the table. ‘My daughter knew nothing of this, though I did it for her.’ He glared at Colum. ‘That jewel was my reward for the years of hard service and cruel knocks!’
Colum seized him by the arm. Gabele shrugged him off and got to his feet.
‘What you say is true, but my daughter’s innocent.’ He pointed a finger at Fitz-Steven. ‘Get this fat turd to write out my confession and I’ll sign it.’ He shoved his wrists out towards Fletcher. ‘Come on, you lazy bastard, put the chains on, don’t you know your job?’
Colum nodded. ‘Take him away,’ he ordered quietly. ‘Look after the girl.’
Fletcher drew his sword and hurried out of the hall shouting for soldiers. A few minutes later Gabele, his sobbing daughter behind, were hustled out of the hall. Colum picked up his cloak.
‘We’ve finished,’ he said. ‘What is to be done here will be at the orders of the King, but thank God, I have finished!’
Kathryn picked up her own cloak. They were near the door of the hall when Moresby caught up with them.
‘How did you know?’ he asked.
Kathryn pulled at the cord of her dress. ‘A piece of rope.’ She smiled at Moresby’s puzzlement. ‘Once we realised Sparrow’s manacles were unlocked, then he must have had an accomplice. Gabele could arrange that and he was the one who guarded the trapdoor to the tower.’ Kathryn shrugged. ‘The rest followed.’
‘And me?’ Moresby asked.
‘A matter of logic: we knew Brandon and the rest were dead. We knew Gabele had visited Sellingham, but who else? The only death which could be suspicious was yours.’ Kathryn smiled again. ‘Your presence here was a coincidence, but your resemblance to Chaucer’s Pardoner was uncanny.’ She sighed. ‘And, thanks to the Irishman, there’s very little about Chaucer I don’t know!’
‘Will you keep your word, Irishman?’ Moresby asked abruptly.
Colum nodded. ‘Aye. I suggest you take sanctuary at Christchurch. The King is merciful. What you did I would have done.’ Colum looked him up and down. ‘But first, I suggest you have a bath and wash your hair. If you only knew how frightening you appear.’
‘I’ll take the pardon,’ Moresby replied. ‘But, within the month, I’ll have joined Henry Tudor in Brittany.’
Colum scowled. ‘That’s your business.’
‘No, no,’ Moresby replied softly. ‘One day Fortune’s fickle wheel will turn again. I’ll not forget your kindness, Irishman.’
And Moresby spun on his heel and walked down the hall.
Colum and Kathryn collected their horses from the stables and rode out of the castle into Winchepe.
‘What will you do now?’ Kathryn asked.
‘I’ll take the Eye of God to London,’ Colum replied.
He reined in his horse and patted its neck gently and gazed up between the dark overhanging houses. He then leaned over.
‘I know why Gloucester wanted it,’ he whispered. ‘The Eye of God. The pendant can be snapped open. Inside I found a small scroll, a thin strip of parchment, a promissory letter signed by George, Duke of Clarence.’
Kathryn went cold.
‘It’s dated six months before Barnet,’ Colum continued. ‘In it Clarence swears he will remove his own brothers and any children they may have from the inheritance of England. In return Warwick would make him King and he would make Warwick his First Minister. A pretty mess, eh, Mistress Swinbrooke?’
‘Will you remove it?’ Kathryn asked curiously.
‘No, nor will I say I have ever seen it. I will put it back as I found it.’
‘What will happen?’
Colum gathered the reins into his hands. ‘Clarence will die. Mark my words, Mistress Swinbrooke. The “Pardoner’s Tale” applies not only to Brandon and his friends but to those three great princes in London. They have found the treasure, the Crown of England, and I think they’ll kill each other for it.’
Kathryn leaned over and squeezed his hand.
‘What is it the “Knight’s Tale” says:
“I did see madness scoffing in its rage,
Armed risings and outcries and fierce outrage.”
Colum looked at her. ‘Which means?’
‘Put not your trust in princes, Irishman. Moresby is right. Fortune’s wheel will turn again. Keep your distance from Gloucester and his ilk.’
‘“Oh, mirror of wifely patience,”’ Colum quipped back, grinning from ear to ear.
Kathryn nipped him on the leg and, urging her horse
forward, looked over her shoulder in mock severity at the laughing Irishman.
Conclusion
There are a number of themes in this novel. First, the pendant known as the ‘Eye of God’ does exist, although it is now known as the Middleham Jewel. This fifteenth-century pendant with a large sapphire on the front shows the Trinity with the inscription ‘Ecce agnus dei qui tollis peccata mundi miserere nobis: tetragrammaton ananizapta.’ The reverse side is engraved with a scene of the Nativity, with the child lying on the ground bathed in light. The border contains the figures of the saints. The pendant was found near Middleham Castle in North Yorkshire, home of the Nevilles and King Richard III.
The Battle of Barnet, the confusion over Oxford’s attack and Warwick’s death are accurately described by the chroniclers of the time. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, had once been a powerful supporter of the House of York and he retained close links with one of the Yorkist princes, George Duke of Clarence. Clarence’s treachery was never forgotten by his kingly brother, Edward IV, or the latter’s beautiful and ambitious wife, Elizabeth Woodville, who vowed that, whilst Clarence lived, he would pose a threat both to herself and her two baby sons. Indeed, there was a prophecy that, after Edward IV died, someone whose name began with ‘G’ would seize the throne. Everyone thought this prophecy referred to George, Duke of Clarence. Shortly after the events described in this novel, Clarence is supposed to have been murdered by being drowned in a vat of malmsey in the Tower of London. According to tradition, Richard, Duke of Gloucester (about whom the above prophecy was more accurate), is supposed to have carried out the murder. Twelve years later, in 1483, Gloucester, who loved his brother but hated his sister-in-law, seized the crown of England and imprisoned both his nephews in the Tower.
Medieval Canterbury and the fall of its mayor Faunte are accurately described here. The same is true of the potions Mistress Swinbrooke used; they are all culled from a medieval book of herbs and have regained new fame in the twentieth century as alternative medicine.
