saw him wake drenched in sweat. Sometimes he was too afraid to sleep, and then he would drink, drink far more than any man should, but that only sent him to sleep and back into his nightmares again. Who could he make confession to? Who would hear any of us? What priest in England would have understood and absolved us from the murder of holy monks in the very House of God? Even King Henry could not make penance enough for the murder of Thomas a Becket at Canterbury, and he was but one man slain, and the king's hand did not wield the sword.'
'No,' Anne said fiercely. 'But it was the king who gave the order and God will hold him more guilty than ever the knights who struck the blows.'
She swung herself around on the casement seat and her face was flushed and her jaw set hard. 'I am glad you told me of Hugh's part in this. I had thought to make Osborn suffer by taking away those he cared for, by sending them to hell before they had a chance to confess their sins, but now I see the murder of Hugh had its own justice.'
Raffe was still too troubled by his own memories to respond, but finally he managed to pull himself together and clamber to his feet.
'You must leave here this afternoon, m'lady. I have to go to Norwich, I must find John's spy before it's too late and more innocent men are slain. Promise me you will leave here before this day is out.'
Anne nodded. 'I've heard what you said and I will go. I have friends who will take me in. You're a good man, Raffaele, a loyal friend to my son and now to me. If you would do me one last service, buy me a little time to get away and I shall always be in your debt.'
'I will do all in my power, m'lady, and if it please God I find the man in time before he reaches Osborn or the king, you will be able to return here soon. I'll get word to you wherever you are.'
He bowed with a formality he had not used for a long time, and was half-way across the chamber before some thought in the back of his mind made him freeze in mid- stride. He turned back to Anne. She was still sitting where he'd left her.
'You said you had thought to make Osborn suffer?'
She stared up at him. The anger which had animated her face had drained away and she looked now as lifeless as a wooden mask.
'Yes, yes . . .' She drew a deep breath. 'You have confessed to me, so it is only fair that I should confess to you. Besides, I may not live long enough to find a priest to absolve me.
'You see, my cousin . . . she is not sick, at least, please God she is not, for the truth is I haven't seen her these many months. I have instead been to Norwich and there I sent first Raoul and then Hugh to God's judgment. Raoul, because I knew he was spying for John and it was only a matter of time before he discovered I was helping the priests. But you may ask why I next chose Hugh and not Osborn.
'Death would have spared Osborn the punishment he deserved. I want him to suffer in this life before he suffers in the next. I don't want him to escape that. I need him to know how it feels to go on living when the person you love with all your soul is suffering the torments of the fires for eternity, and you can do nothing to help them, not even place so much as a single drop of cooling water upon their burning tongues. I wanted him to live with that. I wanted him to know that before he dies, for surely that is the only torment that hell itself cannot inflict upon the damned.'
Her eyes were bright with tears now, but she would not let them fall.
'I confess I had thought it would be harder to murder a man. Men always say how tough and brave you must be. But then I thought about what Osborn had done to my beloved son, how he had corrupted and damned Gerard's soul. And how Osborn even now. . . even now has no remorse and laughs as if it were one of his