Prince of Darkness by Doherty Paul C

Author:Doherty, Paul C. [Doherty, Paul C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

After giving his small escort strict instructions, Corbett, accompanied by Ranulf and Maltote, left by the Galilee Gate and thundered along the track, through the silent village and up the road to Woodstock. He hadn't decided what exacdy to do. He wanted to confront Gaveston, and was determined to question the Prince on why he knew about Lady Eleanor's death long before any messenger arrived from Godstowe.

The guards at the palace's main gate swiftly let them through but, as they debouched out of the tree-lined path front of the palace, a gruesome sight awaited them. A huge, makeshift scaffold had been erected in front of the palace, a long, thick ashen pole fixed into two uprights at either end. Corbett stopped, calming his horse which grew skittish at the sight. From the pole hung four corpses; three of the great, black mastiffs and, in between them, his neck broken and twisted, eyes protruding, the body of Gyrth, their keeper.

Corbett dismounted slowly, ordering Ranulf to look after the horses as he went to meet the chamberlain, who had come out to greet him. The fellow treated Corbett as if he were a Prince of the Blood and took him swiftly into the had, which an army of servants were now cleaning after the previous night's banquet. Corbett was led down a maze of corridors and into a chamber where the Prince of Wales and Gaveston, both white-faced and sober, stood waiting to receive him. Before Corbett could open his mouth, Prince Edward came forward and took him firmly by the hand.

'Master Corbett – Hugh,' he said, his eyes pleading with the clerk, 'the dogs… it was a mistake. My profuse apologies. The beasts and their handler have been hanged.' The Prince swallowed nervously and looked away. 'It was a mistake, an accident, wasn't it, Piers?'

'Yes, it was,' Gaveston replied. 'A terrible accident.'

Corbett glanced at the favourite, noting how pale his face had become. An accident? the clerk thought. Perhaps some drunken jape which got out of hand, or perhaps a calculated act of attempted murder.

'We found out this morning,' the Prince continued hurriedly. 'The Lady Prioress sent messages. Both the keeper and his hounds were instantly hanged. The fellow was drunk and released the dogs as you left the palace. They picked up your scent…' His voice trailed off.

The Prince of Wales' concern was genuine. Was it remorse? Corbett wondered. Or even complete ignorance on the Prince's behalf? Had Gaveston acted on his own? Corbett understood their fear. He had no illusions about the King. If Corbett was killed in the royal service, the King would accept it. But a deliberate attack on one of his messengers? Edward would have hurried troops south and burnt Woodstock to the ground. Corbett was going to ask about his lost glove but decided not to. Gaveston would have a ready explanation.

'Your Grace, I must see you alone.' Corbett ignored the look of annoyance on the favourite's face. 'Your Grace,' he persisted, 'you owe me that.

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