The King of Thieves: by Michael Jecks

would guess that they are men called to fight.’
    ‘For whom, though?’
    Baldwin shook his head. The cavalcade continued on its way, heading southwards and west, towards Crediton, or maybe Exeter.
     They could have been from Tiverton, from Lord Hugh de Courtenay’s castle, or perhaps they were from some further manor. All
     told there were seven-and-twenty, by his count. A fair-sized entourage for a minor lord.
    It left him feeling unsettled.
    ‘They’re gone, Baldwin,’ Jeanne said soothingly. She could see that he was distracted by the sight.
    ‘It worries me, Jeanne. There are so many men riding about the land now, and many have no care for the law.’
    ‘We are safe enough here,’ she countered.
    ‘Are we? If Despenser took it into his head to crush us, he could do so in a moment. There are many thousands at his command.’
    ‘You fear for us, I know, husband, but there is no need to. Remain here with us, and all will be well.’
    Baldwin nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on the small cloud of dust that enclosed the men-at-arms until they were out of
     sight between the trees. There was a clutching fear in his belly.
    Louvre, Paris
    Jean de Poissy was allowed in before the Cardinal had arrived, and he stood in the great room studying his surroundings.
    It was the room of a man of power and authority, that was clear. There was the large desk, with books and parchments scattered
     all about it. A pair of spectacles lay folded on top of one large book, which Jean assumed was a Bible. The fireplace was
     made ready, although there were no flames. Today was so warm, it was good to enter a room like this and feel the soothing
     coolness. A large sideboard stood at one wall, and upon it were many silver plates and some goblets which adequately demonstrated
     the wealth of the man. Large tapestries covered the bare walls on two sides, while on a third there were many paintings of
     scenes from the Gospels. All designed, so Jean felt, to demonstrate the man’s position in the world, like the large goblet
     with gilding all about it. Interested, Jean walked over and picked it up.
    ‘You wish for wine?’
    The door had been thrust wide, and the Cardinal marched in like a General. He was pulling off gloves as he strode past Jean,
     throwing them on the table and calling loudly for his steward. Soon the servant appeared with a large pewter jug, from which
     he swiftly dispensed wine and brought it to the two men, Jean’s in a smaller, pewter cup rather than the fine goblet he had
     admired. That was given to the Cardinal. Equally swiftly, the servant walked backwards to the wall, where he stood, jug still
     in his hands, head bowed.
    ‘This is a fine goblet, is it not? One of a group I once found.I gave the rest to the Pope himself, Pope Clement of blessed memory.’
    ‘The gift was appreciated?’
    ‘It brought me the position I hold today,’ the Cardinal said without boastfulness. ‘It often helps to achieve things when
     you have the ability to smooth the way with money, don’t you find?’
    ‘Not in my world,’ Jean said.
    ‘No. I suppose not.’
    ‘You wished to see me?’ Jean said.
    ‘Yes. I wanted to know whether you had managed to proceed with the investigation?’
    Jean studied him. The Cardinal was clad in a Cardinal’s clothes, but they had been cut from fine velvets and silks, their
     colours somehow brighter and more expensive-looking than Jean was used to seeing. The Cardinal was a tall man, with a face
     that had a certain severity about it. He had the deep brown hair of a man from the far south, and the olive complexion to
     go with it. He peered at Jean now from narrowed eyes.
    ‘Yes, my Lord Cardinal,’ Jean responded coolly.
    ‘And?’
    ‘I am attempting all I may.’
    ‘Also, this theft – I trust you have heard of it?’
    ‘My apologies, what theft?’
    The Cardinal made a dismissive gesture. ‘There has been a purse stolen from one of my clerks. Any place this size must have