‘Henry would not have hanged Josbert,’ said Geoffrey. Or would he? That the siege had lasted so long was largely because Josbert had prepared the castle. Mabel regarded him steadily, and Geoffrey saw she was sceptical of the King’s mercy, too.
‘Bellême was furious about Josbert’s death,’ said Amise. ‘Arnulf knew he would not be safe in England, so he did the prudent thing and left for Normandy while he could – although he will lose all his English possessions now for certain.’
‘He would have lost them anyway,’ said Geoffrey. Amise glowered at him, and he edged away. He respected, even liked, Mabel, but Amise’s close proximity was not pleasant, and he knew she was still waiting for an opportunity to kill him.
‘It is almost over,’ said Amise. ‘But not quite. Tell us the truth: did you kill Cecily and Haweis?’
Geoffrey sighed, weary of her inability to see further than her own bigotry. ‘Of course not! What is the matter with you? You are like your mother, so devoted to a single issue that you refuse to see the evidence that points you in other directions. It will be your downfall, as it will hers.’
‘Who, then?’ asked Mabel, silencing her sister’s angry retort with a powerful – and probably painful – squeeze of the shoulder. ‘I think you know.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Geoffrey spoke softly. ‘It was the last of the King’s spies. It was Emma.’
‘Emma?’ echoed Amise in disbelief. ‘How did you reach such an outrageous conclusion?’
‘Logic,’ replied Geoffrey simply. ‘Think about the facts. You said yourself that you were away from Haweis only for a moment. Therefore, whoever killed her must have been waiting in the hall. It was not Beaumais or Matilda, because they were frolicking in the stables at the time.’
‘But Emma was on the roof,’ said Mabel, confused. ‘She told us she suspected Matilda and Beaumais were carrying on, and went to spy on them. That was why she was not in her chamber when we delivered the herbs she asked us to find.’
‘Emma did know about Beaumais and Matilda, but she also knew that pretending to be the jilted lover would exonerate her from other accusations. She sent you for herbs, knowing that Haweis could not climb the stairs with her sprained ankle, and would be left alone. She hid in the hall and waited. And, if you recall, she kept her hands in her sleeves after Haweis was discovered. That was to mask the fact that they were covered in blood.’
Amise looked at Mabel in confusion. ‘I saw her hands when we went upstairs to comfort mother. They were bloody, but she said it came from when she had tried to help Haweis.’
‘Then she lied,’ said Mabel flatly. ‘I found Haweis’s body, and Emma went nowhere near it – to help or otherwise. If there was blood on her hands, then it came there before I raised the alarm, and that means …’ She trailed off.
‘I still do not believe you,’ said Amise defiantly, addressing Geoffrey. ‘You accuse Emma because you cannot think of anyone else. But she is grateful to us for helping her with our grandmother, who could not have been raised from the grave without our help.’
Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. ‘Old Mabel is up and walking? Emma has succeeded?’
‘You will have to wait and see,’ said Amise spitefully. ‘But not for long: I have asked her to visit you first.’
‘I am sorry, Geoffrey,’ said Mabel, glaring irritably at her sister to silence her. ‘But I do not see why you believe Emma killed Haweis. I am not saying you are wrong, only that I do not understand.’
‘Her motive is obvious. Haweis was the prettiest of you all, and Old Mabel had already rejected the heads of the felon and Hugh.’
Mabel gazed at him. ‘Emma killed Haweis so she could use her head for Old Mabel?’
‘She was probably desperate. She could not locate the original skull as long as she was locked inside Arundel, and her options were limited. Time was running out, and she needed Old Mabel ready as soon as possible. Remember who volunteered to see Haweis buried.’
‘You are right,’ said Mabel, her face drained of colour. ‘Emma had wrapped Haweis in a sheet and would let no one see the body. The head lolled against my shoulder when I lifted it, and I thought it was odd at the time. Emma must have taken Haweis’s head and substituted Hugh’s or this felon’s. So, we know why she killed Haweis, but what about Cecily?’
‘Because of Beaumais,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Emma loved him, and did not like Cecily making moon-eyes at the man. She had access to Greek Fire, and she had already employed a device to cause a delayed explosion – when she attempted to incinerate All Hallows Barking. Perhaps Emma intended to use Cecily’s head for Old Mabel, to kill two birds with one stone. But the Greek Fire spilled all over Cecily’s neck, and would have made her head unusable.’
‘Emma is not a traitor or a killer,’ persisted Amise, although her expression was uneasy.
‘Are you sure she can be trusted with your mother – and Matilda?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Because you have just abandoned them with only the King for company.’
Amise dithered, but Mabel took Geoffrey’s accusations seriously. She walked briskly to the King’s tent, while Geoffrey followed at a distance. If Emma did intend to kill her sisters, then it was an issue for her family to resolve, and he had no intention of becoming embroiled in another Bellême quarrel. But Mabel had nothing to worry about. As she approached, the flap of the tent opened and Henry emerged with all three sisters at his side. They were grim-faced, but alive. Mabel stopped mid-stride and gave Geoffrey a weary look, as though she felt he had misled her, while Amise merely sneered.
‘We ate and drank nothing Henry offered,’ Geoffrey heard Sybilla whisper to Mabel. ‘As you recommended.’
‘We will surrender this evening,’ announced Sybilla in a tired voice to the crowd. ‘We cannot win this confrontation, and the King says we can leave his kingdom without further persecution if we go tonight. We can each take a horse and a saddlebag. What we carry in that bag – jewels, clothes – is for us to decide, and he has promised not to interfere. Bishop Maurice will escort us to the coast.’
Maurice nodded enthusiastically, evidently more than happy to take several attractive ladies on a fairly long journey. Geoffrey wondered how many of them would be subject to his pawing advances before they reached the sea. He did not imagine they would take pity on his medical condition, and suspected the lecherous prelate would be in for a disappointing trip.
‘I may owe you my life,’ said Geoffrey to the happy bishop. ‘But you owe me a horse. Mine is still winded from carrying you.’
Maurice laughed, then lowered his voice. ‘You see? The plans I gave Bellême convinced him that he cannot win at Bridgnorth, and he has given the order for its surrender. That was what Henry intended all along, so your careful analysis of the castle did not go to waste. Do you still doubt the King’s wisdom – or my loyalty to him?’
‘No, but he might, if you interfere with the ladies entrusted to your care.’
‘I will treat them as tenderly as any lover,’ Maurice promised, rubbing his hands together. ‘They will carry fond memories of their journey with me, I can promise you that.’
Suddenly, there was a sharp cry, and Geoffrey saw that the Bridgnorth deputation had already started back towards the castle. Sybilla was slumped in her saddle, and Mabel was trying to hold her upright. Then Sybilla dropped to the ground.
Fourteen
When Sybilla fell from her horse she was dragged some distance by the frightened animal before Mabel managed to control it. Geoffrey and several others, including Beaumais and Maurice, ran to see what had happened. The King, meanwhile, retired to his tent, declining to deal further with the feisty female Bellêmes.
When Geoffrey reached the women, he found Sybilla lying on the ground struggling to breathe. Her face was white and covered in a film of sweat. Emma stood silently to one side with a bewildered expression on her face, and Matilda moved away from her, as though she guessed Emma was responsible and wanted no part of it.
Mabel shot Geoffrey an agonize
d glance. ‘She has been poisoned. Help her!’
‘Ask Emma,’ he said. ‘There are many potions that can kill, and you will not save her unless you know which one she has swallowed.’ And probably not even then, he thought.
Beaumais was indignant for his former lover. ‘Oh, yes! Blame the witch! That is what everyone does when someone has a gripe in the stomach.’
‘I am innocent,’ whispered Emma, appalled. ‘I would never harm my sister.’
‘Henry did it, then,’ said Amise accusingly.
‘The King has no reason to hurt Sybilla,’ said Maurice gently. ‘He is not the kind of man to poison defeated enemies. Besides, she drank or ate nothing he offered. She only took what Emma had.’
‘But I only gave her wine!’ cried Emma. ‘And I drank some of it myself. So did Matilda, and we are well enough. I tell you I have done nothing!’
‘But you killed Haweis,’ said Amise furiously. ‘So her head could adorn Old Mabel’s bones.’
‘I had no choice,’ said Emma, white-faced and distraught. ‘The future of our entire House is at stake, and desperate situations call for desperate measures. I am sorry about Haweis, but it was better she died quickly and painlessly by my hand, than slowly and painfully by starvation in Arundel. I did it for all of us, so that my mother could save us from Henry and defeat.’
‘And Cecily?’ asked Mabel, not bothering to point out that they had survived the siege without any intervention from her grandmother. ‘Geoffrey says you killed her, too. Is he right?’
‘That was because of me,’ said Beaumais rather vainly, as he patted his oiled hair.
Emma closed her eyes in despair when Beaumais spoke, but snapped them open when she realized her troubles were only just beginning. Amise moved towards her with her dagger drawn. The abbess backed away, fumbling urgently in the pouch she carried at her side. Meanwhile, Geoffrey glanced at Matilda. She was a short distance away, watching the scene with detached interest. More solutions clicked into place as he went to stand next to her.
‘I was wrong,’ he said. ‘Emma did not poison Sybilla, did she? Her shock at that accusation was real. So what happened, Matilda? Did you make sure she and you took the antidote to whatever you had added to the wine? You intend Sybilla to die, but Emma to be spared.’
‘I intend Sybilla to die and Emma to be blamed,’ corrected Matilda. ‘It is always easy to blame the witch, as Beaumais says. Who else would know about poisons?’
‘You should not let Sybilla die. She is your sister, and Emma is right: you have all lost this battle.’
‘This battle is irrelevant. My actions today have nothing to do with Henry. It is about my brother, Philip the Grammarian. Sybilla killed him, four years ago.’
‘But he died at Antioch,’ said Geoffrey, bemused. ‘And I can assure you she was not there.’
Matilda shook her head slowly. ‘You do not have to wield a dagger in order to bring a man his death. A few weeks with our House has taught you that, surely?’
Geoffrey had already guessed that one of Sybilla’s daughters had killed Philip the Grammarian, using the raid as a cover. He had also reasoned that they had left Antioch immediately, as soon as they had secured the formula for Greek Fire.
Matilda continued to speak in a whisper. ‘Amise sent letters, informing Sybilla that she had done what was asked. Amise was the one who stabbed him – which should not surprise you, given your own interactions with the child – but the order came from Sybilla.’
‘But why does Emma need to bear the blame?’
‘Because her witchcraft almost destroyed us, and I do not approve. I know what she did to Haweis and Cecily – and I know what happened to Hugh’s poor corpse. I do not want our mother raised from the dead, and I do not want us to use Greek Fire against our enemies. If we are to make a new life in Normandy, I do not want it said that we are all warlocks.’
‘These are not good reasons,’ said Geoffrey. ‘They are—’
‘Do not interfere, Geoffrey,’ warned Matilda, her eyes flashing with a sudden fury. ‘I did not help you escape Arundel so you could betray me. You would not have lived if Mabel and I had not helped you that day. Do not make me regret it.’
She turned when Amise gave a piercing cry and sprang at Emma with her knife. Emma issued a screech of her own, then the two women were rolling around on the ground, flailing and scratching. Geoffrey started towards them, aiming to put a stop to the sordid spectacle, but Matilda stopped him.
Emma had her hand in the pouch she carried at her side, and flung something in Amise’s face. It was a small phial that broke and released something black and sticky. Amise screamed and put her hands to her eyes, allowing Emma to roll away. Geoffrey assumed the undignified fracas was over, and began to step forward again, intending to help Amise scrape the dark substance from her face before it did any harm. But Amise hurled her dagger in fury, screaming all manner of hatred and threats as she began to claw at her cheeks.
It was pure bad luck for Emma that the knife embedded itself in her chest, because Amise could not see what she was doing. The Abbess’s eyes bulged and she dropped to her knees. With the last of her strength, she drew something from her scrip and tossed it at her adversary. Flames erupted on Amise, blazing even more fiercely when they reached the pitchy substance. Geoffrey saw Emma’s satisfaction as Beaumais and Maurice tried to smother the flames, and he recognized the distinctive smell of Greek Fire. He knelt next to Emma, although he could see she was beyond any earthly help.
‘An undignified end,’ she whispered. He was not sure whether she referred to herself or Amise.
‘Greek Fire is terrible,’ said Matilda, crouching next to them. ‘I wish Philip had never found it.’
‘It could have helped us win this war,’ whispered Emma. ‘I perfected it, you know, the day before Arundel fell. Arnulf’s meddling in All Hallows confused me, but once he had confessed to what he had done I was able to make the appropriate adjustments and rectify the matter.’
Geoffrey recalled that Emma had been puzzled when her experiment had produced a dazzling flash and an explosion. Arnulf’s interference had seriously impeded her progress.
‘But now I know,’ she continued weakly. ‘The secret is to—’
‘Do not tell us,’ said Matilda quickly. ‘It is better that it dies with you.’
Emma’s bloodless lips parted in a ghastly smile. ‘I used the last of Philip’s sample on Amise, so you should be pleased that his murder is appropriately avenged. There is no more Greek Fire in Bellême hands, and the only other person who knows its formula is Sybilla: I told her last night. But you have ensured she will never tell, either.’
‘I am glad,’ said Matilda. ‘I shall take our mother’s bones and bury them in Normandy. And then perhaps our House can be free of all this evil.’
Geoffrey was not sure Henry would permit Old Mabel to leave, and thought he might well have her buried somewhere no Bellême would ever find her. Old Mabel dead had proved every bit as dangerous as Old Mabel alive.
The light faded from Emma’s eyes and she lay still. Geoffrey crossed himself, not so much for her as for himself. He thought it was not natural for a woman to take pride in her diabolical achievements as she breathed her last, when most folk were keen to absolve themselves of their sins. He glanced at Mabel, who leaned heavily on a pile of cloaks that covered Amise’s still-smoking torso. He prised her hands away and removed the material to reveal a blackened head that looked barely human.
He laid a sympathetic hand on Mabel’s shoulder, while Maurice stepped forward to mutter prayers. She lifted her sister’s body as though it was a child’s, and laid it gently across the back of her horse. Then she did the same for her mother. Emma was left where she was. When she had finished, Mabel reached out and laid one of her meaty paws on Geoffrey’s shoulder.
‘I doubt we will meet again, Geoffrey, but remember me well. Do not equate me with the murderers and schemers in the House of Montgomery-Bellême.’
�
��God’s speed, Mabel,’ said Geoffrey softly, thinking that the burly warrior was the only member of the entire clan he did not distrust. He hoped he would never encounter the family again, and made a silent vow never to set foot in their lands in Normandy, under any circumstances.
Beaumais crouched next to the woman who had been his lover. ‘Oh, well,’ he said ruefully. ‘She would have had to go sooner or later anyway. I intend to be a bishop, and I can hardly do that with a witch as my mistress.’
‘No, you should choose a Christian next time,’ agreed Matilda. She turned to Geoffrey. ‘It is over now. All the traitors are dead, and my dear Philip has been avenged. Look in the castle chapel after we leave; Mabel and I have put something there for you to remember us by.’
‘It is not the formula for Greek Fire, is it?’ he asked nervously. ‘Or Old Mabel’s headless corpse.’
She smiled wanly. ‘It is something you will like – other than a good woman. Perhaps you will come to see me if you ever visit Normandy? I enjoyed our tryst in Southwark all those months ago.’
‘I might,’ he said vaguely, not wanting to offend her with an outright refusal. She was an attractive lady, but there were plenty of others who were equally pretty and who did not come with dangerous siblings and a working knowledge of poisons.
‘There is one other thing you should know,’ she said, pausing with her foot in the stirrup. ‘Sybilla passed a letter to your little squire when she pretended to manhandle him earlier today – you may recall me mentioning to you that she could write. It is on its way to my brother even as we speak.’
‘Durand? Why would she give a message to Durand?’
‘He is so terrified of us that he will do anything to avoid incurring our wrath. You had better hurry, Geoffrey. Who knows what the message contains?’
‘I was wrong,’ said Geoffrey, amused. ‘Emma was not the King’s last agent. You are.’
With a rush of understanding he saw that Emma would not have tried to have King Henry shot by hidden archers in the Easter Court if she had been a royal spy. That had been a genuine attempt at regicide, deriving from fear and desperation. Also, she would not have offered Bellême the secret of Greek Fire or tried to summon her dead mother. And she certainly would not have ordered young Philip to bring the King’s toenails to add to potions she hoped would kill him.
The King's Spies Page 35