Mathild 03 - The Darkening Glass by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty [Doherty, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

They had resolved to carry off the Queen of England.

I asked both Aquilae if they could tell me more; both shook their heads. I courteously thanked them for the information and promised to reflect on it. Yet what could I do? I was as mystified and apprehensive as the rest. We were about to leave the friary and journey to Scarborough, where, I knew, violence would occur. Once the earls learnt that Gaveston had locked himself in there, they would come seeking him. Indeed, everybody accepted that, and a pall of gloom settled over the court, the reality behind all the empty pomp. Gaveston was hardly ever seen. Edward, however, remained precocious and fickle as always. He could drink, slur his words, have a tantrum, but at all times Edward of Caernarvon was changeable. He could weep at Vespers and be merry as a Yuletide fire by Compline.

I thought the king had forgotten both me and his commission to investigate Lanercost’s death. I was wrong. On the same afternoon I met Rosselin and Middleton, I retired to my own chamber to study a manuscript loaned by the brothers from their extensive library. I think it was a copy of Peter the Spaniard’s Thesaurus Pauperum – A Treasury of the Poor: a veritable multum in parvo – a little encyclopaedia of medicine. I was examining the strange symbols inscribed in the margin when a knock on the door aroused me from my studies. I hurried across, thinking it was Demontaigu, but Edward the king, cloaked and cowled, pushed his way into the chamber. He closed the door and leaned against it, pulled back his hood, sighed, then went and sat on a stool. He acted like a little boy, looking round, smiling to himself, tapping his feet and playing with a tassel on his cloak.

‘Mathilde?’

‘Yes, your grace.’

‘On your oath, tell me what you have discovered.’

‘About what, your grace?’

‘Everything since Lanercost fell like a stone from that tower. Have your reflected on that, Mathilde? The Aquilae of Gaveston,’ he forced a laugh, ‘soaring like eagles ever so high. The highest they say any bird can reach. All brought low from towers, crashing like stones to their deaths.’ He pointed a finger at me. ‘You’ve thought of that?’

‘It has occurred to me, your grace.’

‘Then tell me what you know.’

I did so, describing everything as honestly as I could. The king heard me out, now and again interrupting me with the odd question, rubbing his face in his hands.

‘A mystery,’ he murmured, ‘a true mystery.’ He rose to his feet and walked to the door. ‘Do not stop, Mathilde.’ He paused, hand on the latch, and glanced over his shoulder. ‘One day, when the sky is clearer, I will want to know the truth.’ Then he left as the bells chimed for the brothers to leave their tasks for the next hour of their day.

At the time I thought the king’s visit was part of some great design. In fact Edward was as confused as anyone.

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