‘When I have recited the Gloria.’ Ranulf smiled. ‘Fitting for a murderous priest about to meet his God.’
‘Say it and have done with it.’
‘Gloria Patri,’ Ranulf intoned harshly, ‘et Filii et Spiritus Sancti …’
The chaplain swiftly reached down, seizing both bow and arrow, bringing them up and stepping back. Ranulf, however, ignored the arbalest; instead he pulled the dagger from his belt and sent it hurtling at the chaplain, striking him full and deep in the chest. Master Benedict staggered back, bow and arrow falling from his hands. Ranulf drew his sword, snaking it out to catch his opponent in the belly, then, stepping closer, thrust it deeper. Master Benedict flailed his hands, head falling back, choking on his own blood.
‘I said,’ Ranulf pressed firmly on his sword, ‘I’d strike you before you struck me, and so I have!’ He pulled out the sword.
Master Benedict’s eyes fluttered; he gave a deep sigh, and collapsed to his knees then on to his side.
‘Trickery,’ Corbett murmured.
‘Justice!’ Ranulf snarled. He squatted before the dead man and plucked out the dagger. ‘He was an assassin, a murderer, Sir Hugh. Did you want him to dance away from the hideous crimes he’d committed? Did you want such a man to slink through the shadows of your nightmares? Perhaps return one day to Leighton Manor, stealing in one night to seek vengeance on you and yours? A wounded animal is a dangerous animal. Master Benedict Le Sanglier deserved his fate. I did what was legal and right.’
‘Right maybe,’ Corbett queried, ‘but legal?’
Ranulf stood up, dug beneath his jerkin and drew out a small parchment scroll. He handed this to Corbett.
‘Legal,’ he declared, ‘just, and right!’
As Corbett undid the scroll, his eyes caught the words ‘what the bearer of this letter has done he has done for the good of the King and the safety of the realm’.
‘Why, Ranulf,’ Corbett glanced up, ‘you are growing most astute.’
‘For the children of this world,’ his companion quoted back, ‘are more astute in their dealings with their own kind than the children of the light.’
‘Do you consider yourself to be a child of the light, Ranulf?’
‘No, Sir Hugh.’ Ranulf touched his master gently on the side of his face. ‘I simply work for them.’
Also by P. C. Doherty
The Rose Demon
The Soul Slayer
The Haunting
Domina
The Plague Lord
The Templar
Mathilde of Westminster mysteries
The Cup of Ghosts
The Poison Maiden
Ancient Roman mysteries
Murder Imperial
The Song of the Gladiator
The Queen of the Night
Murder’s Immortal Mask
Ancient Egyptian mysteries
The Mask of Ra
The Horus Killings
The Anubis Slayings
The Slayers of Seth
The Assassins of Isis
The Poisoner of Ptah
Hugh Corbett medieval mysteries
Satan in St Mary’s
Crown in Darkness
Spy in Chancery
The Angel of Death
The Prince of Darkness
Murder Wears a Cowl
The Assassin in the Greenwood
The Song of a Dark Angel
Satan’s Fire
The Devil’s Hunt
The Demon Archer
The Treason of the Ghosts
Corpse Candle
The Magician’s Death
The Waxman Murders
Nightshade
The Sorrowful Mysteries of Brother
Athelstan
The Nightingale Gallery
The House of the Red Slayer
Murder Most Holy
The Anger of God
By Murder’s Bright Light
The House of Crows
The Assassin’s Riddle
The Devil’s Domain
The Field of Blood
The House of Shadows
Egyptian Pharaoh trilogy
An Evil Spirit Out of the West
The Season of the Hyaena
The Year of the Cobra
The Canterbury Tales of murder and
mystery
An Ancient Evil
A Tapestry of Murders
A Tournament of Murders
Ghostly Murders
The Hangman’s Hymn
A Haunt of Murder
Author’s Note
This novel is a blend of certain themes. My book The Great Crown Jewels Robbery of 1303 provides a detailed in-depth study of one of the most outrageous robberies in the history of English crime. Richard Pudlicott and his gang did exist. They suborned and seduced the monastic community at Westminster, though in some cases that didn’t require much effort! Edward did send his faithful clerk John de Drokensford (on whom Corbett is based) into London to clear up the crisis. Drokensford did an extremely thorough job. By Christmas 1303 he’d lodged most of the gang in the Tower. A great deal of the treasure was retrieved, a special house being built for it, though eventually the Royal Jewels were moved to the Tower, where they are still displayed today. Pudlicott was eventually hanged, being taken down to execution in a wheelbarrow. His body was skinned and traces of it can still be seen on a door at Westminster Abbey.
John Le Riche, alias John Ramage, was born in Westminster and was a servant of the monks; his mother lived near St Giles, Cripplegate. John had a very had reputation and had been indicted for other crimes. Around the time of the robbery he had been seen coming and going to the abbey. He suddenly had new-found wealth, being able to equip himself like a knight with horses and weapons. He even had the nerve to dress himself up as a soldier to join the King’s army in the north. However, discretion is the better part of valour. Ramage returned to Westminster, where he was sheltered by the monks. After the robbery, he boasted that he had enough money to buy a town! He kept some of the stolen treasure at his mother’s house before moving it so as to escape the royal searchers. He should have been arrested but fled without trace. My version of his end could well be accurate; outlaws like Le Riche very rarely died in their beds.
The story about Edward I being attacked by assassins in Outremer is reported by a number of chronicles. Some historians dispute whether the incident took place; I believe it did. The Sagittarius, the medieval equivalent of our random sniper, was a common phenomenon, well reported by the London chronicles as well as the Calender of Coroners’ Rolls and the various assizes held in the capital during the period. The judicial aspect of Corbett’s investigation is a fair reflection of the times. The ‘King’s men’ were greatly feared. They literally wielded the power of life and death. Moreover, if someone proved obdurate, they could be summoned before King’s Bench at Westminster Hall, and this could involve a very long and costly stay in London!
The fall of Acre as described in the novel is accurate. The Templars did hold out to the last man, whilst the collapse of Acre brought an end to any hope of success by Western armies in recovering the Holy Land. Three years after the date of this novel, Philip le Bel launched his infamous attack on the Templars and totally destroyed that order.
The Free Brethren of the Holy Spirit are not entirely fictional. Europe was plagued by such wandering groups. Some were harmless enough; others were a real threat to life and security. The chronicles describe them in fairly vivid terms; it is so easy to picture them tramping the roads of France, Spain and even Essex in England!
Paul C. Doherty
December 2007
www.paulcdoherty.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
NIGHTSHADE. Copyright © 2008 by Paul Doherty. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth
Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
First published in Great Britain by HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP, an Hachette Livre UK Company
eISBN 9781429960663
First eBook Edition : March 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
First U.S. Edition: April 2011
Nightshade Page 26
