Free The Prophecy of Death: (Knights Templar 25) by Michael Jecks Page B

had ridden fast from the last inquest.
    ‘Sir Robert, please, I am forgetting my manners. Would you like refreshment? Wine?’
    ‘Ale if you have it, Prior. It is a little warm for exercise.’
    The prior watched while one of his servants ran for the drink. The coroner appeared almost uneasy, avoiding the Prior’s eye
     as he stood, tapping his foot and waiting.
    Soon the ale arrived, a large pewter jug and a silver goblet that looked ridiculously small in comparison. It took five refills
     of the goblet before the knight looked comforted and could nod to the Prior with a look of resolution on his face.
    ‘Very well. Can we speak here in privacy?’
    ‘Of course,’ the prior said.
    ‘Your dead man, Brother Gilbert, was undoubtedly murdered by the man who took the oil, but I am not sure that he was entirely
     blameless.’
    ‘What do you mean by that?’
    ‘Just this: the man who killed Gilbert was seen. Or, at leasta man who appeared to have been trying to escape attention was seen on that night, running away from the convent. There is
     a peasant outside the city wall who’s prepared to swear that he saw a man with what looked like a damp tunic running away
     from the postern. He said nothing at the time because it didn’t occur to the cloth-headed fool. I daresay he was drunk and
     just thought that it was someone else who had been drinking. Now he has heard of the murder, he’s had fresh thoughts, though.’
    ‘He should have come forward sooner,’ the Prior said bitterly.
    ‘Perhaps. Maybe he knew something else, though, and chose not to.’
    ‘That sounds a little strange, Sir Robert. What do you mean by it?’
    ‘In the days before his death, you had guests, did you not?’
    ‘Yes, you know that we had the embassy for the King pass by. They were asking where the King was, and I was able to direct
     them to Beaulieu. They stayed one night only.’
    ‘In that night did you notice any of the monks speaking with the men in the embassy?’
    ‘Yes. Of course they did. The monks here may be devoted to God, but that doesn’t mean that they take no interest in affairs
     outside the convent.’
    ‘Clearly that’s true.’
    ‘What are you inferring, Sir Robert?’ Prior Henry challenged testily. He was growing uneasy at the coroner’s apparent grimness.
    ‘Did Gilbert have a dispute with any of the men from the party?’
    ‘No, he did not. Coroner, I do not like your tone.’
    ‘And I don’t like what I’ve been hearing. The man who sawthe fellow running from here said that he was running away from the priory and heading westwards.’
    ‘After them? But that is ridiculous! You’re telling me that the men in the embassy could have stolen the oil? That is impossible.
     They were all gone the afternoon before the theft.’
    ‘How many King’s heralds were there in the party?’
    ‘With the two bishops? I don’t know … there was that chubby one, and the shorter, stocky fellow. What of it?’
    ‘I’ve asked about. Apparently the party rode on to an inn at Ashford. There was only one herald with the party there.’
    ‘I am sure there were two.’
    ‘I am sure you are right. One stayed behind and killed your Gilbert.’
    ‘What possible reason could there be for him to do that?’
    ‘I do not know.’
    ‘I think you must be mistaken, Coroner. The party riding on would have noticed if they had lost a man.’
    ‘In a group of how many? Fifty? A hundred? They would all believe that the man was in another part of the cavalcade. But there
     is another thing: the man said that the fellow’s tunic was all wet. He also said that it almost obscured the fellow’s tabard.
     It was the tabard of a royal herald.’
    Baldwin was glad when they saw the first lights in the distance and could smell the faint tang of woodsmoke on the air.
    There were few signs of civilisation so welcome to a traveller as these. The first thing he always sought out was a gibbet
     when abroad, because at least in a land such as