Satan's Fire (A Medieval Mystery Featuring Hugh Corbett) Read Online Free PDF Page A

to us. Secondly, there is a remarkable coincidence between your arrival here and those strange happenings. Thirdly, and most importantly, the Templars are a kingdom in themselves. You have houses which stretch from the borders of Scotland to the toe of Italy. From Rouen in the West to the borders of the Slavs. Now gold coins, burning corpses . . .’ Corbett shrugged. ‘These matters can be dealt with, but treason against our lord the king is another matter. You can use your knowledge and power to acquire information. You listen to the rumours of courts.’
    ‘In other words,’ de Molay intervened, ‘you would like us to search out why the Assassins have decided now to reawaken old grievances against your king?’
    ‘Exactly,’ Corbett replied. ‘We do not intend to threaten you.’ He turned and bowed to Edward. ‘The king has already agreed to the confirmation of your rights and privileges. We simply seek your help in this matter. We would be grateful for what you discover.’
    ‘And it does not affect what we have agreed?’ the king asked.
    ‘No,’ de Molay replied. ‘It does not.’
    The king heaved a sigh. ‘Then in the abbey church tomorrow, I will take the oath.’
    After that the meeting broke up. De Molay and his commanders bowed and took their leave. Edward, de Warrenne and Corbett sat in the refectory, listening to the mailed footsteps of the Templars fade in the distance. The king grinned slyly at Corbett.
    ‘I got what I wanted, did I not?’
    ‘And so did the Templars, my lord. Your oath will be a public statement of support for them.’
    ‘It was a pity,’ Edward pushed back his chair, ‘that you had to lay such allegations before them.’
    Corbett smiled as he began to clear his writing tray from the desk.
    ‘My lord, you have been threatened. These are matters which could be laid at the Templars’ door. By raising them, you are warning the Templars that, perhaps, their Order does not enjoy the support it once did.’
    ‘Do you think there is any truth in the Assassins’ threat?’ De Warrenne asked.
    ‘The knives were found,’ Corbett exclaimed. ‘Thirty years ago His Grace was attacked by the same sect. We also have the warnings brought by Monsieur de Craon.’ He shrugged. ‘But it’s all too vague.’
    ‘In other words,’ Edward declared, getting to his feet and stretching till his muscles cracked, ‘not serious enough to hold you here at York, eh, Hugh? So you can scuttle off, back to your manor at Leighton, to the lovely Lady Maeve and Baby Eleanor.’
    ‘It has been three months, Sire. You did promise I would be released from your service at Candlemas, some seven weeks ago.’
    Edward glanced down at him. ‘Affairs of state, Sir Hugh.’ The king held up his long, scar-studded fingers. ‘We have a council in York and the French envoy is here. We have the marriage negotiations for my son. There’s the business of the counterfeit coins and the matter of the Templars.’ He gripped Corbett’s shoulder. ‘I need you here, Hugh.’
    ‘And my lady wife needs me at home.’ Corbett retorted. ‘You gave your word, Sire. You, Edward of England, whose motto is, “My word is my troth”.’
    The king shrugged. ‘Well, sometimes it is . . .’ He picked up his cloak from the back of the chair and swung it round his shoulders. ‘. . . and sometimes it isn’t.’
    ‘We’d all like to go home to our wives and families,’ de Warrenne exclaimed, glaring like an angry boar at Corbett. Deep in his heart the earl could never understand why the king tolerated this clerk’s bluntness. Corbett bit his tongue. He felt like reminding the earl that if he was married to Lady de Warrenne, he’d spend as much time as he could as far away as possible from her. He looked at the king.
    ‘So, when can I leave, Sire?’
    Edward pursed his lips. ‘By mid-April. I promise you, by the feast of Alphage, you will be released. But, meanwhile,’ Edward strode to the door, snapping his fingers