A Mortal Bane

“I see.” Bell nodded. “It would make a difference to you.”

 

“Yes, it was on my mind, and when William stopped in a few days after Christmas last year, I mentioned it to him. He was strange. When I said I wished Winchester had been elected archbishop, he shouted at me because he did not know what he wanted. I cannot remember ever seeing William so undecided. He said that if Henry of Winchester were archbishop, there would be two kings and the Church would have the more powerful ruler.”

 

Bell whistled between his teeth over that statement. “I had heard that was the argument Waleran used to convince Stephen not to urge the election of his brother. I had also heard he did not need to argue very hard, that Stephen had realized that without help. So, Ypres agreed with Waleran about keeping Winchester out of the archbishopric?”

 

“I would not say he ever agreed completely, but later he came to believe that rejecting Winchester was a mistake. He was greatly disturbed at how bitter Winchester was over what he saw as his brother’s treachery and ingratitude.”

 

Bell shrugged. “That was how it looked to me.”

 

“But can it do any good to have the king and his brother at odds? I think William tried to blame Waleran—he did not actually admit that, of course—but this time Winchester would accept no excuses for Stephen’s action. In fact, William remarked that the excuse seemed to make Winchester more bitter, as if it were proof that the king preferred Waleran to himself. I think William was actually worried about an open break between them, and it may have been he who suggested the king ask for the appointment as legate as compensation.”

 

“Interesting, but nothing to do with us. To get back to Baldassare. The bishop thought the bull appointing him legate might also have been in the pouch.”

 

“You must be right!” Magdalene exclaimed, barely preventing herself from shouting in her relief. Now, at last, she could ask questions and speculate about why anyone would want to seize the bull she knew was in the pouch. “But why and to whom could that be important enough to cost a man’s life?”

 

Bell shook his head. “I have never understood that from the beginning,” he replied. “As to ‘to whom,’ there are only two I can think of: Waleran and Theobald of Bec.”

 

“The archbishop?” Magdalene asked faintly. “But he is not even here in England.”

 

Bell laughed shortly. “Winchester did not like the idea any better than you. He cut me off when I suggested it, but I was not suggesting that even if he were in England, Theobald would have used the knife himself.” He shrugged. “I know nothing of the man; he might be a saint and not care, but you know having a legate above him before he can establish his authority over his suffragan bishops must undermine that authority. And, after all, the archbishop does not even have to be directly involved. When he learned of the bull, could he not have lamented to those in his Household that it should be issued—not with any intent to arouse violence or disobedience against the pope’s will, but just as an expression of his disappointment?”

 

“And someone took him literally and decided to intercept and destroy it?” It was Magdalene’s turn to shrug. “But any in the Household who could have heard him are with him in Rome. You yourself said you did not believe anyone else could have outstripped Baldassare in traveling from Rome to London.”

 

“Have you forgotten that there was someone from the archbishop’s Household who traveled with Baldassare?”

 

“Beaumeis?” Magdalene smiled. “Richard de Beaumeis is far too selfish and self-indulgent to kill anyone for a cause not his own. I could imagine him stealing the bull if he thought it would bring the archbishop’s favor, but I am not sure he has the courage to engage in violence. Besides, did I not tell you that Buchuinte says Beaumeis left his house long before Baldassare did, before dinnertime, to ride to Canterbury on some errand for the archbishop?”

 

“Could Beaumeis have sent a message to someone before he left the city?”

 

“You mean hired someone to kill Baldassare for him?” Magdalene frowned. “He might be stupid enough to have done that, but I do not think he would have money enough.”

 

“The archbishop—” He saw her expression and smiled. “It does not matter. A stranger could not have done it. Remember that the killer would have had to be within the gates of the priory or this house before those gates were locked.”

 

“I had almost forgot that.” Magdalene sighed.

 

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