Prince of Darkness by Paul C. Doherty Read Free Book Online

brusquely rising to his feet 'Lady Prioress, I need to see the body. The King insists on that'
    Lady Amelia drew back her head, shocked.
    'Lady Eleanor, for all she might once have been, was when she died a member of our Order,' she answered.
    'My Lady -' Corbett realised that Ranulf was by now very close to the silver figurines '- she was also a subject of the King's and died in mysterious circumstances. Do you wish me to produce warrants and writs?' The Lady Prioress sighed.
    'Her corpse lies in the death house,' she replied quietly. 'The mortuary near the church. Dame Frances, Sister Agatha, take our guest across.'
    Behind Corbett, Ranulf sighed with relief. He had acted just in time and two of the silver figurines were now carefully hidden beneath his jerkin. He trailed behind his master as Corbett, nodding politely to the Lady Prioress, followed Dame Frances and Sister Agatha out of the chamber. They walked out into the blinding sunlight, Ranulf kicking the hard turf, Frances and Agatha moving softly and silently as shadows.
    The nuns led the two men round beautiful, sandstone buildings, across the grass, up to the church, and behind that to the small, red-brick death house which stood near the wall at the end of a dusty path.
    Now and again Corbett stopped to ask Dame Frances some questions about Godstowe. She would politely mumble a reply and try to move on but the clerk stood his ground, idly making conversation as he gazed around. Priory servants scurried past and nearby some lay sisters were busy hoeing the garden beds, purifying the dark soil round the rose bushes and the neat, square herb plots.
    Corbett breathed in deeply, relaxing in the warmth of the sunshine, half-listening to the wood pigeons cooing in the forest. Behind him, under the eaves of the church, the swallows chattered musically against the walls. Dame Frances, however, proved to be equally contained and stood her ground, quite prepared to answer anything he asked. All the time she watched the silent Dame Agatha. Corbett caught a warning look in the old woman's eyes, indicating the young nun should say nothing or offer any information beyond what politeness demanded. Corbett looked up once more at the blue sky and took two steps closer to Dame Frances.
    'That was a pack of lies, wasn't it?' he asked abruptly. 'Back there. Something's wrong. What is it, woman?' He ignored Dame Agatha's gasp, quietly enjoying Dame Frances' flustered air at such an abrupt challenge. 'I am the King's Justiciar in these matters. Lady Eleanor did not fall, did she?'
    Dame Frances stepped back, her face sour as a dried fig, eyelids fluttering as she gathered her wits.
    'Perhaps you are right, sir,' she muttered. I believe the Lady Eleanor may have committed suicide. The Prioress is trying to hide that Something was preying on Lady Eleanor's mind, but Lady Amelia will not accept it was suicide. She might be held responsible. Moreover,' she muttered, 'the Lady Eleanor… you know what could happen if suicide was proved?'
    Corbett just gazed stonily back.
    Dame Frances' voice rose. 'The Lady Eleanor would be denied burial in hallowed ground. Do you want that, Clerk? Her body tossed in some shallow grave at the crossroads with a stake driven through her heart so her poor soul will never rest? That's what church law decrees!'
    Corbett pointed down the path.
    'And that is the death house?'
    'Yes,' she snapped. 'Do what you have to do.'
    Corbett told Ranulf to stay and went down and opened the unlocked door. Inside it was cool, moist, reeking of the soil and something more corrupt. The clerk closed the door behind him. He felt the menace of death pressing against his own spirit. He jumped as a bat, startled by the noise, spread its dark wings above the rafters and screeched in annoyance. One small window high in the wall afforded some light. Curiously enough two candles had been lit, slender beeswax ones, and placed at the head of the two plain elm-wood coffins, each resting on