Satan's Fire (A Medieval Mystery Featuring Hugh Corbett) Read Free Page B

surcoat. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Branquier lean over and whisper in de Molay’s ear. The grand master nodded slowly.
    ‘The King’s Exchequer is in York?’ de Molay asked.
    ‘Yes, my Treasury’s here but there’s sweet bugger-all in it!’ Edward retorted.
    Branquier brought his hand from beneath the ledger book and sent a gold coin ringing down the table. Edward deftly caught it. He stared down at the coin, his heart skipping a beat. He grimaced at de Warrenne.
    ‘Another one!’ he whispered, passing it to his companion.
    The earl looked at it curiously. As large as a shilling, the gold coin seemed freshly minted, with a crude cross stamped on either side. He weighed it carefully in his hand.
    ‘Well?’ Edward taunted. ‘Is this all you are going to give me?’
    ‘You say you have no treasure.’ Branquier leaned on the table. He pointed one bony finger at the coin de Warrenne was now tossing from one hand to the other. ‘Yet, Your Grace, those coins are appearing all over York. Freshly cut and neatly minted. Are they not issued by your own Treasury?’
    ‘No, they are not,’ Edward replied. ‘Since my arrival outside York, scores of such coins have appeared, but they are not from our Mints.’
    ‘But who would have such bullion?’ Branquier asked. ‘And how can they circulate such precious coinage?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Edward retorted. ‘But, if I did, I’d seize the gold and hang the bastard who made it!’ He took a wafer-thin shilling out of his own purse and tossed it down the table. ‘That’s what my own Mints are producing, Sir Richard: so-called silver coins. They have as much silver in them as I have in my . . . er . . . hand!’ the king added quickly.
    ‘But who would counterfeit such coins?’ de Molay insisted. ‘Who has the bullion as well as the means to fashion such precious metal?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Edward shouted. ‘And, with all due respect, Seigneur, that is my business. The counterfeiting of coins in this realm is treason. I can’t see what this has got to do with the business in hand.’
    ‘Which is what?’
    ‘A loan of fifty thousand pounds sterling,’ Edward retorted.
    The Templars stirred, shaking their heads.
    ‘Could you not,’ Baddlesmere declared, staring across at Branquier, ‘ask Philip of France for a loan? To be put against the dowry settlement on his daughter? After all, Philip’s envoy Sir Amaury de Craon is now feeding his face in the priory buttery.’
    Edward glanced across at Corbett. The clerk, at the mention of his inveterate enemy and political opponent, was now listening intently to what was being said.
    ‘What do you think of that, Sir Hugh?’ Edward called out. ‘Shall I send you to France and ask my brother in Christ to empty his Treasury?’
    ‘You might as well send me to the moon, Sire: Philip is even more bankrupt than yourself.’
    ‘What is it you really want?’ de Molay intervened. ‘A loan or a gift?’
    Edward beamed from ear to ear. He winked at Corbett: the Templars were about to negotiate.
    ‘If you offer me a gift, de Molay,’ Edward teased back, ‘then I’ll take it.’
    ‘Let me explain,’ the grand master continued. ‘If you confirm all Templar possessions in England and Gascony . . .’
    Edward was already nodding vigorously.
    ‘. . . Free passage for our merchants; confirmation of our Templar church in London. Confirmation,’ de Molay continued, ‘of all our possessions, both movable and immovable.’
    The king was now beside himself with pleasure. ‘Yes, yes,’ he murmured.
    ‘And a quarter of this gold,’ de Molay concluded.
    Edward sat up in his chair. ‘What gold?’
    ‘You mentioned a counterfeiter,’ de Molay continued. ‘Whoever it is must have a mass of gold. We want a quarter of it.’
    ‘Agreed!’ Edward snapped.
    ‘And finally,’ de Molay leaned forward, clasping his hands together; ‘twelve years ago, Acre, the last fortress in Outremer; our door to the Holy