Chapter Seventeen
Lord Aldrich Paxton stormed into the great hall of the king’s palace, a band of twenty knights following at his heels. His eyes were drawn first to the high dais, left empty just as the king had commanded.
“At least the keeper did something right,” he muttered under his breath. Then his eyes dropped to a trencher table at the fore of the room where a dozen richly dressed men now stood at his approach. Moving to the center of the room, each man knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
“Stand,” Lord Paxton commanded when he reached the keeper and his cronies, not trying to conceal the disdain in his voice. “Which one of you is John Bigge?”
The man in question stood but kept his head downcast. Lord Paxton circled around him.
“How well-ordered the hall appears,” he said, making a sweeping gesture with his arms. “Where are your drunken companions now? Where are your whores?” He drew close to John and hissed in his ear.
“Word reached Edward of the state of his palace, of the philanderers and villains who have roamed his halls and fornicated on his floors.”
“My ... my lord,” the keeper stammered.
“Silence,” Aldrich shouted. Then he turned his back to the group and moved several feet away while he fought to control his temper. He had been taught that any expression of emotion was weakness, even when in the right.
After several moments, during which he knew the keeper and the other men likely grew increasingly nervous, Aldrich turned back around.
“Word of the disastrous order you have kept reached Edward not two days before your message about the robbery of the Chapter House.” Aldrich closed the distance to stand in front of the keeper.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve allowed?
The theft of holy relics and priceless royal treasure,” he shouted in the keeper’s face, answering his own question.
He swung back around, showing his back once more to the men.
“I have sent many of the king’s guards who remained here to recover the treasure,” the keeper said in a quiet voice.
Aldrich turned back around. “By my command, Edward’s soldiers have spread throughout the city and countryside with orders to drag the rivers and ponds and to search merchant stores, fresh graves and every hayloft from Dover to Cape Wrath.
I do not doubt that the treasure will be recovered.
Meanwhile, I have ordered the palace guards to return while I continue to investigate you, Keeper John Bigge.
” He scanned the men standing behind the keeper.
“And the rest of you. You are all under house arrest. You and your households are to remain inside the palace until we have recovered the treasure and found the guilty parties. And in case you are all too dimwitted or still drunk from your revelries to understand my full meaning, allow me to state the obvious — you are all suspects in the theft of the Chapter House treasure.”
The men gaped at him with eyes wide. “You are all merchants?” he asked, eying their garb, absorbing their stances and expressions.
He considered himself a good judge of character, and despite the apparent wealth of each man, not one held true honor in his eyes.
They were all thieves and sinners at heart, men who lacked the conviction needed to fight for justice or truth.
These were not servants of God or protectors of the crown.
These were men who served themselves alone.
He gestured to the long trencher table they had initially occupied. “Sit down,” he snapped.
The men spread out along the benches while Aldrich removed his cloak, gesturing for one of the guards to take it.
He laid his helmet and gauntlets on the table.
Smoothing a wayward lock of red hair from his eyes, he ran his hand down his beard before he sat down at the head of the table.
Folding his hands, he continued to consider the group, sizing up each man.
“’Tis simple, really,” he began. “I am going to give you all the opportunity to supply me with what you know, specifically the names of guilty persons. Now, before you decide to keep your own confidence, I would like to remind you that you are all the king’s prisoners and will remain so until this matter has been satisfactorily resolved. ”
“Jonathan,” he said, looking to where a scribe stood among the warriors and gestured for the small man to join them.
Jonathan’s roughly-made brown tunic grazed the floor when he hurried over.
Without a word, he reached into the satchel hanging across his chest and withdrew a piece of parchment, a jar of ink, and a quill.
When he finished assembling what he needed, he nodded to Aldrich to signal he was ready.
Aldrich then turned to the group. “Would anyone like to give me a name?”
Without hesitation, the keeper spoke up. “Richard Ash.”
Scratching of pen to parchment dominated the room for a moment as Jonathan scribbled the name.
“Go on,” Aldrich said, looking expectantly at the keeper.
“He is your man, Richard Ash. Isn’t that right?” The keeper asked, scanning the surrounding men for support. A murmur of quiet agreement echoed his plea.
“Yes.”
“That’s right.”
“He’s the one.”
Aldrich raised his brow. “And how do you know Richard Ash is the guilty party? Did he confess his crime?”
The keeper shook his head. “Of course not, for I would have brought him to task and even now he would be chained in the dungeons below.”
“If this Richard did not confess, then how do you know he did it?”
“He boasted of his plan one evening, but none of us took him at his word. He was drunk and a braggart, not to mention a dimwitted sort of man. No one believed he would act on his plan. Then after months of spending his evenings here at the palace, he suddenly disappeared. That same week, we discovered the stolen treasure. Only then did we realize that Richard must have carried out his foolhardy plan.”
Jonathan turned to the scribe at his side. “Have a likeness done of Richard Ash. We will bring him in for questioning.” Then Jonathan looked back to the keeper. “I assume you have sent out members of the guard to locate Richard.”
The keeper straightened in his seat. “I certainly have, and you can question the guard to hear the truth, for that matter, although they’ve been unable to find him.”
“It would appear as though this Richard was not as foolhardy as you all initially judged for him to pull off such a heist.”
The men murmured their agreement. Aldrich resisted rolling his eyes as he considered the fools surrounding him. “Despite Richard’s apparent cleverness, I am confident he did not act alone.” Once more he scanned the group, looking every man in the eye. “So, which one of you helped him?”
The keeper’s eyes grew wide. “One of us?”
Aldrich’s fist came down on the table. The men visibly jumped in their seats. “Do not play me for the fool. He did not act alone. Tell me what you know.”
“Randolph Tweed helped him,” said a large man with black hair and a neatly trimmed beard.
Aldrich looked down the line of men and locked eyes with the man. “What is your name?”
“Geoffrey Mercer, I am a merchant.”
“And you’ve been enjoying the king’s hospitality for some time, have you not?”
He nodded. “I have, sir.”
“What is the man’s name you gave?”
“Randolph Tweed. He and Richard used to dine together. He’s a knave and a proven thief too. He robbed me of a servant and one-hundred silver marks.”
Aldrich looked to the other men. “Do you agree with Geoffrey? Do you believe this Randolph is guilty?”
The keeper hesitated for a moment. Aldrich did not miss the look exchanged between him and Geoffrey, but then the keeper nodded. “Yes, Randolph and Richard were close. I do not doubt he knew of Richard’s plan, and more than likely aided him.”
Aldrich nodded, then turned to the scribe. “Have a likeness done of this Randolph Tweed as well.” He stood then. “You are all dismissed to your rooms where you will remain until you are told otherwise.”
“If it pleases my Lord Paxton, I will volunteer my time and my men to help track down these villains.”
Jonathan turned and eyed Geoffrey. He was a large man, and judging by his attire, he was a successful merchant. No doubt he could afford capable men. “Are your men trained for battle?”
Geoffrey nodded. “And they can ride as well as any knight. What’s more, the head of my guard is a skilled tracker.”
Jonathan raised his brows. “Is that so?” He gestured to one of his men. “Evaluate this man’s guard. If you deem them worthy, add another twenty cavalry to his party.” Then he turned back to Geoffrey. “Allowing you meet with my man’s approval, I accept your aid on behalf of the king.”
Jonathan saw the unmistakable glint of vengeance in Geoffrey’s eye. “Whatever this Randolph has done to you, remember your first interest is to the crown.”
“Randolph Tweed will stand in front of King Edward in irons,” Geoffrey said, bowing his head. “You have my word.”