The Raven's Head by Karen Maitland

you, my young apprentice, are evidently neither loyal to your master nor to me. You say you saw your master writing. Naturally, he writes. That is his job. You say it was in a certain book. I have only your word for that and one book looks much like another from a distance. You say he sent you to fetch some seeds for a purge. Who gave you the seeds? Will this person corroborate what you have said? . . . No, I thought not. You can hardly imagine that King Louis would listen to the half-witted ravings of a disaffected servant and
English
boy to boot. And that is what they are, nothing more than the delusions of a mooncalf. The king has already accepted the evidence as true and he does not like to be made to look a fool.’
    My face grew hot. The discussion was not proceeding as I had rehearsed in my head. But I wasn’t going to slink away defeated, not yet.
    ‘Surely then the king will like it even less if he’s made a fool of by one of his trusted nobles,’ I said quickly. ‘What if your enemies who were spreading those rumours find out about the forgery and tell His Majesty? They’d be only too willing to believe my story and . . . and they’d pay well for such information,’ I finished in a rush.
    Philippe’s mouth slowly widened into a humourless smile.
    ‘Ah, now we cut to the heart of the beast. Gaspard, no doubt, told you that I generously rewarded his diligence in finding the record. And you thought, But I, too, spent many hours searching long and hard like my master. Indeed, perhaps it was you who discovered the book on those dusty shelves and, not unnaturally, you are thinking, But where is the justice in this? I also should have been rewarded for my pains, even though I am a mere apprentice.’
    I gave a half-nod, uncertain whether he was mocking me or actually thought I had a point.
    He paused, regarding me for a long time. A heavy silence descended on the chamber, broken only by the cracking of the logs on the fire and the moaning of the wind through the shutters. I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest. Was he going to pay me, have me thrown out or worse? It suddenly occurred to me that he could easily have me flogged bloody. The sweat was trickling down my forehead, but I daren’t wipe it away for fear of drawing attention to it. I knew I shouldn’t let him see I was afraid, but it was all I could do to stop myself blurting out that I’d made a terrible mistake and throwing myself on my knees, begging him to forgive me. I was on the verge of doing just that when he spoke again.
    ‘You are an intelligent lad, quick-witted, observant. And it takes boldness to tackle the wolf in his own den. A young man with your gifts could rise rapidly if his talents were fully appreciated. I warrant you won’t remain an apprentice for much longer. But I think you want to stride further than old Gaspard’s feet will lead you. You want to be more than a mere scribe in my household, or you wouldn’t have risked all by raising this matter.’
    A surge of relief rushed through me. He understood!
    ‘I could be of great service to you, Monsieur le Comte, if I had the chance.’
    ‘I don’t doubt that. But wits and ambition alone are not enough. If you seek advancement you must learn that those who can help you rise require two other qualities from the men they champion – discretion and loyalty.’
    ‘You’ll find no one more discreet or loyal than I am, Monsieur le Comte. I told no one, not a single person, what I knew. Not even Gaspard knows I’ve discovered his secret and I swear on the Holy Virgin no one will ever learn of it, if . . .’
    He raised his eyebrows. ‘
If
. . . Yes, indeed, that tiny word on which have balanced the fates of whole kingdoms and the lives of thousands.’
    His grey eyes bored into my own. ‘Very well, then. We shall forget this foolish attempt at blackmail for we both know this nonsensical talk of a forgery was just a youthful and misguided attempt to bring yourself to my