Falconer's Trial

by Ian Morson

  ‘This place has become a cesspit of evil, like it was once before. And needed cleaning out. Now you will be swept away with all the other sinners, filthy Jew.’

  Suddenly, the door behind Saphira swung open and light flooded into the gloomy chapel. A welcome voice boomed out.

  ‘But you are the source and origin of all the evil yourself, Cornish.’

  Saphira breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of William Falconer, at the same time as being a little nettled that he had once again appeared as her rescuer. She would never live it down. If she lived. Cornish swung her round, encompassing her waist with his arm.

  ‘Master Falconer. Welcome. How is it you make me the evil one? Do you know what started all this? It was those two girls and their evil. I could see that something had troubled Sister Marie for a good while. Finally, I persuaded her to confess. She told me that little Margaret had told her of her strong feelings for Marie. How she had persisted in whispering enticements in her ear. How she had touched her. She said Margaret had spoken of love, and that she had given in. How they had lain together. What could be more evil than two nuns sinning in such a way together after devoting their bodies to Christ?’

  Falconer stepped inside the chapel, moving slowly and cautiously towards Cornish and his captive.

  ‘But then why was Marie murdered? Because she was, wasn’t she? By someone else, I mean. It was not self-murder.’

  ‘Margaret killed her with henbane.’

  Cornish was backing away from Falconer towards the inner door of the chapel and the nunnery. Falconer still niggled at the truths.

  ‘Why would she kill a woman she loved? Unless she felt betrayed, or forced to do so. By you.’

  Cornish’s voice rang out loudly through the chapel as he finally lost his temper.

  ‘Yes, yes. I had her kill Marie, and she did it willingly.’

  Saphira suddenly saw it. The source of all the horrors that had taken place had their stem and origin here, with Ralph Cornish. She spoke calmly, though she was scared, and could not break free of Ralph’s grip.

  ‘She killed her with henbane. But why did Marie willingly take the henbane? She took a mixture of herbs thinking she was taking birthwort to kill the child that was growing inside her. A child Margaret could not have helped create. You fucked Marie because you could. You had heard her confession of sin and used it to get her to give in to you. Margaret agreed to give the fatal herbs to Marie because she felt betrayed by her. And was scared of you. You. The putrid source of all these unnecessary deaths.’

  Saphira felt the door behind her open. Cornish must have unlocked it as she was talking. He pulled her through the opening into the cloister. He made to lock the door again from the outside, but Falconer must have grabbed the handle from the inside. A battle of wills took place before her eyes, but Cornish still did not release her. He finally gave in to Falconer’s greater strength, and backed away from the door and along the cloister. Falconer burst out of the chapel, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Cornish holding one of the keys close to Saphira’s eye.

  ‘I will blind your pretty whore, if you come any further, Falconer. In fact I might blind her anyway.’

  Saphira winced as her captor pressed the end of the key into the edge of her eye. She believed he was capable of doing it. He had lost control, shouting out his contempt for William.

  ‘This is all your fault, Falconer. You persistently humiliated me in front of others at the university with your clever arguments. Then, when I had triumphed in argument, you behaved like a child and threw that firecracker at me. You should have been humiliated by your action. But everyone thought it was highly amusing, and it was I, who was the butt of all the jokes. My reputation was ruined. And I made sure you paid for that.’

  Saphira squinted at Falconer, her eye watering with pain. But William didn’t seem concerned at all. Annoyingly, he was smiling, his arms folded across his chest. Why wasn’t he rescuing her?

  Saphira squinted at Falconer, her eye watering with pain. But William didn’t seem concerned at all. Annoyingly, he was smiling, his arms folded across his chest. Why wasn’t he rescuing her?

  ‘And God was displeased with this thing; therefore he smote Israel.’

  Saphira stepped away from the unconscious figure on the ground and looked up at the prioress.

  ‘Actually, I am glad you smote him, Mother, and not Israel. In the form of this poor Jew.’

  For the first time ever, the startled nuns, who had poured out of the small domestic chapel, heard the strange sound of their prioress laughing heartily.

  EPILOGUE

  Four people sat in the house in Fish Street comparing thoughts over some nice Frankish wine. Saphira Le Veske had already teased William over the fact her life had been saved by another woman.

  ‘Gwladys had the presence of mind to secrete herself from Cornish’s view. While you, William, had to confront him. Just like a man.’

  Falconer laughed.

  ‘Oh, remind me, then. Did she get him to give himself up by using her female wiles? Or did she hit him over the head with a heavy weapon? Just like a man.’

  ‘It was a Bible. She persuaded him with God’s words.’

  Falconer raised his hands in defeat, and drank deep of the wine. Bullock poured him some more from the jug and walked back to his own chair. Slumped in it, he nursed his own replenished goblet.

  ‘Ralph Cornish is locked safely away and the king’s justices are on their way to Oxford. I don’t think Chancellor Bek will dare try him at the Black Congregation. Cornish has killed too many people, or caused their deaths with the help of the poor little nun. I will wrench a confession out of him about Robert Bodin too. I won’t let that pass unsolved, not while I’m constable.’

  Falconer mused on Bek’s fate.

  ‘I think Thomas Bek will not last long as chancellor as soon as the king hears of his ineptness. A successful murder trial might have aided him, but as his attempt at grabbing power was so ill-shaped, I am sure he will have to go.’

  Thomas leaned forward, all fresh eagerness.

  ‘Perhaps they will elect you chancellor, Master Falconer.’

  The other three burst out laughing at such an incongruous idea, and Thomas blushed to the roots of his well-cropped hair. To divert attention from his ill-judged words, he asked another question of Falconer.

  ‘And what of Odo de Reppes? Was he really part of a conspiracy against the king and his family? Or was Segrim confused about it all?’

  Bullock and Falconer exchanged glances. They had spoken to Laurence de Bernere about the Templar, but the master of Temple Cowley had been quite tight-lipped. He had talked of Odo’s sister, as Falconer explained.

  ‘It seems that Odo had long been impressed by his sister’s piety, and more than once had sought to speak to her about matters that troubled him. His journey to England seems to have been just to talk to her again. It was probably coincidence that his path then happened to cross Sir Humphrey’s. As for the great conspiracy, will we little folk ever know what happens at court? It is true that Segrim is convinced he saw Odo at the Church of Saint Silvester where Henry, nephew of the king was murdered. And Odo was in Berkhamsted when Richard died. But Segrim was already obsessed with the Templar and may have seen what he wanted to see. Besides, Richard was a very old man with the half-dead disease. It is perhaps all coincidence.’

  Thomas grinned wolfishly, catching his master out at last.

  ‘But haven’t you always told us that you don’t believe in coincidence?’

  Laurence de Bernere sat in the chapel at Temple Cowley singing the psalm Venite as commanded in the Templar Rule. He prayed with his brothers, speaking softly so as not to disturb the prayers of others. When it came to sing the Gloria patri, everyone rose and bowed to the altar in reverence for the Holy Trinity. When the service was complete, he walked slowly towards the cells, deep in thought. He peered in the dark and stinking cell where Odo de Reppes lay heaped in chains. He had sought guida
nce from God for what he was about to do, but he knew the Rule was clear on the matter.

  Auferte malum ex vobis.

  Remove the wicked from among you. It was necessary to remove the wicked sheep from the company of faithful brothers. And the letter from Guillaume de Beaujeu, Templar preceptor in the County of Tripoli in the Holy Land, expressed no doubt over Odo’s guilt. He would simply disappear from the earth.

  Laurence de Bernere crossed himself and returned to the chapel to pray.