Read Online Masques of Gold by Roberta Gellis - Free Book Online Page A

remark, the door opened and Madame Adela poked her head in. “Can the servant finish now?” she asked.
    â€œIn a moment,” her husband said, and she withdrew her head. He said to Justin, “That is all I know anyway. I am sure Peter and Edmond did not harm their father, nor did they know who did it. If they had known, they would have stayed to demand revenge. Unless—”
    â€œThen they ran from fear?” Justin interrupted. “Fearof whom?”
    Goscelin shrugged. “I have no idea, but Flael did considerable business with the king. He made John’s privy seal, and two years ago, just before the king had word of the conspiracy against him, Flael delivered a matching cup and plate of gold…beautiful pieces.” The voice of the alderman, who was also a master goldsmith, changed on the last words, softening with admiration. Then he went on slowly, “Flael was lucky. He was given leave to go home only two days before the king had the news about the plot.”
    The men stared at each other in silence for a moment while similar thoughts passed through both their minds. If the king was involved in Flael’s death—and death by terror as well as the seemingly spiteful and purposeless damage inflicted on the corpse were not at all unlikely results of King John’s enmity—then the panicked flight of the sons was reasonable. All thought of revenge was hopeless, and it was typical of King John to hold a grudge and punish the sons for the sins of the father.
    Justin looked down at his hands. “Is there a chance that Flael was involved in the plot against the king?”
    â€œNo,” the alderman said, smiling suddenly. “I know that for a fact, and in the oddest way. Last year the September meeting of the goldsmiths’ fellowship was more than usually merry for reasons with which I will not trouble you, and Flael was among the merriest of us all. We came to talking of the king’s peril, for some among us think that Joan’s coming with a message of warning to her father was more to benefit her husband Llewellyn, to whom we have heard she is in thrall, than to save John. Well, that is past, but Flael said a strange thing when one of the men—Finke, I think it was—said the plot had never had a chance to succeed. Flael said it would have had a much better chance if he had been a part of it. He was very drunk.”
    â€œAnd you think what was spoken in wine was the truth?”
    â€œOh yes.” Goscelin nodded emphasis to his words. “Flael had no part in the plot, but I cannot help but wonder what he meant. And before anyone could ask, his journeyman—I cannot recall his name, but I remember he was killed in a stupid accident…a shame. It was he who made the cup and plate for the king. Ah, such beauty! Anyway, the journeyman had a much harder head for wine than Flael did, and he made a jest and soon carried his master home.”
    â€œFlael could have meant he had been approached by someone for support and refused.”
    â€œHe could have meant anything,” the alderman said. “But if his words were carried to the king, implying that he had known of the plot, been at court, and not given warning—”
    â€œThis is idle speculation.” Justin shook his head, then smiled suddenly. “And if you do not open the door and tell your wife we are ready to dine, I will have an enemy I fear worse than the king.”
    â€œI too,” Goscelin admitted, his shrewd eyes twinkling now. “After all, the king can only kill me. I must live with Adela.”

Chapter 4
    William Bowles heard his daughter cry, “Wait,” but could not be bothered with her. Let the little bitch solve her own problems. His were worse. If Flael had been tortured to death and not confessed, suspicion might fall on him, William thought. FitzWalter had not blamed him originally because Hubert de Bosco had taken the box Flael had