Murder then? What had he to gain? In the matter of Maurice’s murder there could be any number of motives, as a demonstration of loyalty to Clement being the most obvious.

Imagine, he had stumbled across the would-be thief when returning with the pope after mass, maybe to discuss some church matter, some interesting legalistic question that only so-called great men would understand, he had discovered the thief, and killed him to protect his holiness. That was one way of explaining it. The pope in setting his men onto discovering the murderer might then have used them as a ploy to direct suspicion away from his own man.

Unfounded, she reproved herself, switching her attention more carefully to what Hubert and Montjoie were discussing.

Dull nonsense, she decided after a moment. Hubert was simply marking time so she could have a good look at the cardinal and make up her mind about him. Then, if he was complicit in her game, he would work round to that night on the bridge.

‘And praise God that in His wisdom He is sending us more clement weather,’ Hubert eventually remarked.

‘Clement? He has surely a hand in the matter too,’ murmured Montjoie with coy humour.

‘Without doubt. I remember in horror the walk across the bridge a night or two ago - you remember, when we had been privileged to dine with his Holiness, en prive.’

Flatterer, thought Hildegard. Why not say ‘in private’ instead of all this en prive stuff.

But Montjoie was at home with it. ‘That was a most satisfactory evening,’ he purred. ‘To be honoured with an invitation to confer with His Holiness in the privacy of his inner chamber - ’

‘Only spoilt by the walk back to Villeneuve,’ Hubert interrupted, smoothly bringing him back to the point. ‘We were in such straits we were almost driven to stop at the chapel half way to seek shelter and offer up a prayer to St Nicolas but, undaunted, we decided to press on. Did you go straight across too?’

‘Most certainly.’ Montjoie gave a shudder. ‘I’m not at my best when soaked to the pelt. I hurried back as fast as my lazy servants could carry me. Even so I had to have hot water brought to me so that I could lie in a tub for a while to recover. I’m happy to say my villa, although not as vividly decorated as Cardinal Fondi’s,’ he paused, ‘has enough comfort for my humble needs.’

‘Fortunate, God be praised,’ murmured Hubert with the air of a man fascinated by such revelations.

**

‘So what do you think to him? Not much, I can tell by your face.’

‘I thought I covered my feelings rather well.’

‘In front of him, maybe, but not now. Just look at you!’

‘If there was any justice he would be manacled and made to kneel in a puddle to plead in seven languages for his humble life.’ She shrugged. ‘Justice is blind. Nothing links him. To my regret.’

‘I’ll check with his servants to see if he really did cross straight over.’

‘I’d bet on it. I’m afraid it only leaves Grizac.’

‘Poor old Grizac.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘He strives so. He’s a man who had everything, by birth and family connections, and what has he done with it?’

‘He is a cardinal, Hubert.’

He gave a disdainful shrug.

The gesture did not fit with his own apparent ambition but she let it pass.

‘Apparently he wrote some good music when he was in York but somehow he’s one of those people who always seem to be hurrying to keep up with themselves. Since being made bishop of Avignon when Clement took over he’s done nothing very much. He doesn’t even write music any more as far as I know.’

‘Is he not charitable?’

‘I grant you that. He gives lavishly to the poor.’

As she turned away she said, ‘Thank you, Hubert. I must say you played Montjoie like a master angler enticing a fish onto your line.’

‘I always do my best for you, Hildegard.’

As he raised a hand in farewell he said, ‘You’ve changed again. I never know what you’re going to be like towards me. You’re more variable than the weather.’

**

If you only knew, she thought as she trailed off to the couriers’ office, I’m always the same underneath. It’s only suspicion and doubts in these terrible times that make me seem to change towards you. And you are such an infinitely skilful fisherman. I fear the hook.

They could not dwell in the same building without some heart-stir like a sickness, nor meet without some well of healing opening up by being in proximity. Yet suspicion cut them asunder. And the bonds of allegiance bound them to different masters. And nothing could come of it.

**

The esquires were crossing the yard, Edmund and Bertram, followed by Elfric and Simon and when they spotted her they changed tack and soon surrounded her. Nobody broke step. In the busy courtyard it must have looked like a natural configuration to anyone watching.

Edmund. Scarcely moving his lips. ‘We spoke to the sentry.’

‘So did I. What did he tell you?’

‘He saw nobody else go onto the bridge except for the cardinals and your friend Abbot de Courcy.’

‘What were his words?’

‘He said: after them lot went over nobody else showed themselves until one or two left the Coq and ran under the bridge, out of the wet.’

‘That’s where the girls who don’t work at le Coq ply their trade, is it?’

Edmund, blushing, nodded. ‘Nobody was there because of the weather.’ He added sheepishly in the voice of the sentry, ‘No point in plying your trade with no punters, is there?’

‘Quite!’

What a night to be unable to get back into the palace. All because somebody forgot to leave a gate unlocked.

‘Did he say anything about hearing the uproar from le Coq?’

‘No. He said it was too windy to hear anything and he only found out about it when it was light and folk wanted to bring their carts across.’

‘Do you think Taillefer was one of those who ran under the bridge?’

‘Not for that he wouldn’t.’

‘I know about Yolande.’

‘There you are then.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Fraid so.’

Without changing pace the boys peeled off to wherever they were originally heading.

Hildegard went down to have a look at the side gate. The guards nodded her through into the street. That interfering nun. Where’s it got her?

She paced round the outside of the walls. When she came to the little postern, the side gate, it was locked.

She returned to the palace, back through the gatehouse, located the same gate from the inside. No key. When a servant went shuffling by with a sack of something she called a question to him.

‘Kept locked, domina. Second steward has the key.’

She went to find the second steward.

‘A matter of some discretion, master, may we step outside?’

They went into one of the nearby courtyards where the vast amounts of produce needed to feed the hundreds in the palace was stored.

‘The little side gate in the wall, I know you were helpful to the young lads wanting to get out into the town for a bit of fun. How did it work? Did you leave it unlocked most of the time or did they have a key?’

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know how you found out - ’

‘And I’m not going to tell you. Discretion is the word I used.’

‘Thank you, domina, most grateful, my genuine thanks. I’ll tell you this. I used to open it before midnight and lock up again just after lauds. What went on in between is not my concern.’

‘If they didn’t get back before it was locked?’

‘Then the young sinner would have to go back to where he’d been bedding down outside till the gatehouse was opened up, get me?’

‘Indeed. Did it often happen?’

‘What?’

‘That somebody would be accidentally locked out?’

‘Ah, I understand. This is about young master Taillefer. Poor soul.’ He crossed himself. ‘He was unlucky. With it being the devil’s weather that night I thought they’d all stayed in the palace so I didn’t bother to unlock it at all.’ He paused. ‘That’s funny.’