style="overflow: hidden; color: #000000; background-color: #ffffff; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; border: medium none;">On December 29 1170, in the very sanctuary of his cathedral, four men set upon Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. The assailants, wielding swords, hatchets and axes, were knights of no great nobility or distinction, court bouncers prepared to do anything to secure Henry II’s approval. In a temper tantrum, as was his wont, some days earlier Henry had dropped a dangerous hint. According to John Guy’s suspenseful, meticulously researched biography, the long-accepted version – “Who will rid me of this turbulent priest” – is apocryphal. Among the variety of witness records, this by the chronicler Gervase of Canterbury was probably the authentic outburst: “How many cowardly, useless drones have I nourished that not even a single one is willing to avenge me of the wrongs I have suffered?”