Read Online Hugh Corbett 14 - The Magician's Death by Paul Doherty - Free Book Online

if someone claims to be able to call Satan up from Hell. He may be able to, but will Satan come?’ His words created laughter, which lessened the tension. ‘Friar Roger, however, is different. During his captivity he wrote another book, the Secretus Secretorum , or Secret of Secrets , in which he revealed, in great detail, all his secret knowledge. He wrote the book then copied it out again. The original went to Paris, whilst the copy stayed in England.’
    ‘That’s why Ufford died?’ Bolingbroke interrupted.
    ‘Yes,’ Corbett replied more sharply than he intended.
    ‘We stole the original?’
    ‘No,’ Corbett shook his head, ‘you only stole a second copy; that’s what you brought back to Westminster. The original is still kept by King Philip himself in his treasure house.’
    ‘What!’ Bolingbroke would have sprung to his feet, but Ranulf gripped him by the wrist, forcing him to stay seated. Bolingbroke knocked the tankard off the table. ‘A copy? Is that why Walter died? We failed!’
    ‘You didn’t fail.’ Corbett’s voice remained calm. ‘Edward of England wanted to know if his copy and the copy kept in Paris were the same. I am pleased to say they are.’
    ‘What does it say?’ Sir Edmund ignored Bolingbroke’s outburst.
    ‘That’s the problem.’ Corbett got to his feet and went to retrieve the tankard. He refilled it and placed it in front of his clerk, patting him gently on the shoulder before resuming his seat. ‘The Secretus Secretorum is written in a cipher no one understands. Whoever breaks that cipher will enter a treasure house of knowledge. For months, the clerks of the Secret Chancery have tried this cipher or that in a search to find a key. We know de Craon’s clerks have been doing the same, to no result. Edward knows Philip has the Secret of Secrets ; the French know Edward has a fair and accurate copy.’
    ‘Ah,’ Sir Edmund sighed. ‘Now I see. Philip has invoked the peace treaty, the clauses stipulating how he and Edward are to work together.’
    ‘Precisely.’ Corbett steepled his fingers. ‘Philip has demanded, especially since the theft of the copy from Paris, that both kingdoms share their knowledge. He knows I am responsible for the secret ciphers of the Chancery, so he called for this meeting.’
    ‘Why here?’ Ranulf asked.
    ‘Philip is being diplomatic. He wants to reassure Edward. He simply asked that the meeting place be in some castle on the south coast, not Dover or one of the Cinque Ports, well away from the hustle and bustle of the cities. Edward proposed Corfe, and Philip agreed. De Craon will bring with him four professors from the university, experts in the study of Bacon’s manuscripts, men skilled in breaking ciphers. They will meet myself, Bolingbroke and Master Ranulf here.’
    ‘Who are they?’ Bolingbroke asked. ‘What are their names?’
    ‘Etienne Destaples, Jean Vervins, Pierre Sanson and Louis Crotoy.’
    Bolingbroke whistled under his breath. ‘They are all professors of law as well as theology, leading scholars at the Sorbonne.’
    ‘Of course,’ Corbett agreed. ‘I know one of them, Louis Crotoy; he lectured in the schools of Oxford, a formidable scholar, with a brain as sharp as a knife.’
    ‘I don’t believe this.’
    ‘You don’t believe what?’ Ranulf smiled.
    Bolingbroke just shook his head. He took off his cloak and threw it over the table, fingers going for his dagger in its leather sheath. ‘Philip means mischief; there is treachery here.’
    ‘Which is why we are meeting here,’ Corbett retorted. ‘Tell me again, William, why Ufford killed Magister Thibault.’
    ‘He had to.’ Bolingbroke sat down and rubbed his face. ‘We were in the cellar trying to open that damnable coffer.’
    ‘But why?’ Corbett insisted. ‘Why should Thibault, whom Ufford last saw cavorting with a buxom wench, leave his bed sport, his warm, comfortable chamber, and, on a night of revelry, take that woman down to a cold cellar?