Read Crown in Darkness for Free Online

wind howled in savage gusts against the castle and, although they had never met, he would have agreed with Corbett: Satan was abroad, his evil gathering like pus in an open wound.

FIVE
    The next morning Corbett slept late, deaf to the sound of the abbey bells, and the normal bustle of the monks as they went about their various activities. He was awakened just before noon by the Master of Novices who announced that a message had come from John Benstede asking for Corbett to present himself at the castle immediately. Corbett hurriedly dressed, refused the kind offer of a horse but accepted the services of a guide to take him through Edinburgh to the castle. They set off through the drizzling rain, climbing the steep path up the rock which the monks said was popularly known as Arthur's Seat. Edinburgh was totally different from London; a royal burgh, it was built according to some sort of plan: long narrow streets with timbered and stone houses on either side, some joined together, others separated by narrow runnels or alleyways which led to a small garden or croft behind each tenement. There were shops, simple open-fronted affairs, booths and numerous ale-houses. Corbett thought London was dirty but Edinburgh was filthy; rubbish, the remains of meals, broken chamberpots, even corpses of dead animals littered the streets.
    The noise was intense with carts trundling across the rutted tracks or wynds as Corbett's guide described them. Business was brisk, shopkeepers even running out to grab
    Corbett by the arm and offer a pie, a piece of cloth, fresh fish from the Firth, almonds, nuts and raisins brought in from the nearby port of Leith. Corbett could hardly understand their accent and was thankful for the stout staff his guide carried and so expertly used to make their way through the milling crowd. They passed the ancient church of St. Giles, and crossed a wide open grassy space which the guide called the Lawnmarket, the vast expanse generally used for markets or fairs. It was also the execution ground and the decomposing bodies of four criminals twirled from the makeshift gibbet.
    They continued on, up the steep incline and into the castle. Inside, the scene was one of frenetic confusion, servants scurrying around, shouting and gesticulating, carts laden with provisions struggling to either get in or leave. Horses rearing and neighing, as ostlers and stable-boys tried to calm them down and lead them away. Men-at-arms, wearing the royal livery of Scotland, attempted to impose some form of order but the situation was not improved by a horde of courtiers standing around also issuing their instructions to a vast army of retainers all wearing different liveries. Corbett turned to his guide to ask what was happening but found the man had had enough sense and discretion to depart as quickly as possible. Corbett grabbed a groom who was trying to lead a horse to the stables at the far end of the bailey but the fool could not understand him and Corbett simply drew a blank look, followed by a shrug and muttered curses.
    The English clerk stood rooted to the ground, wondering whether to stay or leave, when a hand gently touched his shoulder and he turned to see John Benstede, his kind face wrinkled in an apologetic smile. 'Master Clerk,' he said quietly. 'It was good of you to arrive so promptly. Come, let us leave this chaos.' Corbett followed him across the yard as the English envoy made his way carefully through the throng and up a flight of steep stairs into the main keep of the castle. Up another row of stairs and Corbett followed Benstede into a small, grim chamber with a bed of straw in the corner, a trestle table, a badly-lit brazier and a few rough stools for comfort. Benstede sighed and gestured to Corbett to sit down while he slumped, head on hand, on a stool near the table. 'What is the matter?1 Corbett asked. 'Why the summons and why the confusion?' 'The Council of Guardians,' Benstede replied wearily, 'has called a meeting of