Dark Queen Wary by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty [Doherty, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2022-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

PART FIVE

‘For the King said to the said Archbishop that he would come and disport himself in his Manor at The Moor.’

Urswicke left the sacristy and went round to stand before the Lady Altar. He lit the taper and watched the flame dance in the breeze seeping through the ancient chapel. Once back in the countess’s chamber, Urswicke served some light ale to his mistress, now busy signing and sealing the letters she had written. Immersed in her task, she thanked Urswicke for the tankard and returned to her work. Urswicke, slumped in a chair before the fire, silently toasted his own success. He had learned something new, something most significant. He now had a common thread linking all the murders. So how was he to proceed?

Urswicke recalled the murders one by one. Brasenose, a bolt to the head. Rutger, his throat cut. Simon Fladgate, also a barb to the head. John Forester, probably drugged then killed, his wrists pierced by spikes so he bled to death. Finally, Colworth, mysteriously stabbed outside Angel Tower. Urswicke now had a deep suspicion of who the assassin might well be. If his theory was correct, he must concentrate on the last murder, as it contained one factor different to the others.

‘Oh yes,’ Urswicke breathed, ‘one great difference, and I must push that to a logical conclusion.’ Urswicke continued to sift what he knew; his eyes grew heavy and eventually he slipped into the deepest sleep. When he awoke, the darkness was beginning to thin under the strengthening glow in the east. Urswicke stood for a while at the window, listening to the constant cooing of the pigeons and the flute-like call of courting blackbirds, what the countess called the hymn of God’s creatures greeting the dawn. Urswicke stared around. The chancery desk was clear except for a leather sack tied and sealed at the neck. The countess lay on the bed, almost hidden by the cloak she had wrapped around her. Urswicke was about to cross to the lavarium when the most hideous scream shrilled up from outside. Urswicke froze. Another scream; he was sure it came from the front of the house. The countess stirred. Christopher leaned over her as further screams cut the air.

‘My Lady,’ he whispered, ‘please stay. Lock and bolt the chamber behind me.’ Pulling on his boots, Urswicke collected his cloak and warbelt and hurried out on to the dimly lit gallery. Shadows shifted; different sounds carried as the household stirred, aware that something hideous had taken place. Maillac and Bray were in the spacious entrance hall, other servants thronged near the half-open door. A group of women were trying to comfort Callista, who was sitting on a stool, face in hands.

‘You’d best see this, Master Urswicke.’ The steward looked pallid and agitated.

Bray, all harnessed and ready to leave, indicated with his head for Urswicke to follow him outside. He did. The morning promised to be beautiful, but the gruesome, blood-soaked corpse sprawled at the foot of the steps transformed everything into a nightmare.

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