The former archdeacon glowered at this little upstart but was unable to contradict him. ‘I am one of the cathedral proctors and know the laws as well as you,’ he grated. ‘But if you think you can find more of these vermin, then make a copy of this list. There is pen, ink and parchment on that table.’
As Thomas, with hidden glee, hurried to take advantage of de Baggetor’s climbdown, John had more questions.
‘What has occurred recently to bring this matter to the surface?’ he asked.
‘Events in northern Italy and the south-west of France have caused anxiety in Rome,’ answered the canon, who seemed more ready to speak of generalities than his own activities. ‘The Papal Legate in England has passed on instructions from the Vatican for all bishops to be far more vigilant in detecting and stamping out the growing cancer that is eating away at the very roots of our Holy Roman Church.’
‘So what is intended in regard to these other persons? Are they all to be arrested?’
‘There is to be an inquisition, where they will be strictly interrogated. Depending on what arises from that, further action will be taken.’
This sounded somewhat sinister to de Wolfe, but the proctor refused to be drawn on the matter, saying it would be the decision of the bishop and of the chancellor of any court he might set up.
As soon as Thomas had finished copying the list, for there were only a dozen names on it, they left, as de Baggetor made it abundantly clear that he had no intention of telling them any more.
The cloud-filled sky was darkening by now, the November weather already warning of the coming of winter. Again the coroner and his acolyte made their way down towards the lower town, where the old wall gave on to the quayside where smaller ships could get up on the tide past Topsham. John was on his way to the Bush and Thomas to his lodgings, and as they parted at Idle Lane de Wolfe gave him his orders for the morning.
‘Tomorrow you must explain to me about this Bull and the demands of the Pope — it’s all a mystery to me. Then we’ll look at that list you made and decide what to do about it. I smell more trouble coming and we need to be prepared for it.’
The coroner did not stay very long at the inn, as Gwyn had taken him at his word and gone off early on his tour of the taverns, allegedly in search of information. If John knew anything about him, he would get several gallons of ale inside him in the process, but knowing of his capacious stomach and iron head, John had little fear of him coming to any harm.
Dusk was falling, but it was not yet dark when he got back to Martin’s Lane and, as he passed the little church of St Martin’s on the corner of Canon’s Row, he met Cecilia, the doctor’s wife. She was swathed in a mantle of heavy green wool, with a fur-edged hood framing her handsome face. Behind her, her young maid lugged a large shopping basket. He greeted Cecilia warmly, for any good-looking woman always melted the usual forbidding expression on his face.
‘Best that you reach home and hearth while there’s still light, mistress,’ he said affably. ‘Especially when you ladies are abroad alone in these streets.’
She smiled at him as they stopped to speak, close enough for him to smell a flowery fragrance coming from her.
‘At this time of day, my husband sees his patients in his chamber in Goldsmith Street,’ she explained, ‘so he can never escort me when I wish to visit the booths or the tradesmen’s shops.’
For a fleeting moment de Wolfe wondered if this rather unnecessary explanation was a covert message that she was alone at this time every day — but then he discarded the thought, knowing what a godly and upright woman she was. But one could have said exactly the same thing about his Hilda of Dawlish, who was a pillar of her church and community yet had been John’s mistress for many years.
‘You have been about the king’s business today, sir?’ asked Cecilia, almost as if she wanted to spin out their encounter.
Being quite happy to dally with her, John gave a brief account of his efforts to track down who might have killed the heretic — and mentioned the possibility that another one of that persuasion might also have been slain.
‘Poor people. It seems cruel that they should suffer just because they have a different view of God from the majority,’ she said surprisingly. ‘My husband has such strict opinions on the matter, but I fear I see them as human beings deserving of compassion.’
‘They may well suffer even more soon, if the bishop has to carry out his orders from Rome,’ said John grimly. He explained about the forthcoming inquisition of any suspected of deviating from the prescribed pathway laid down by the Pope. ‘As the coroner, I have to hold inquisitions, but I fear that the religious variety may be far more harsh than my questioning.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘It is wrong that a man’s private thoughts and beliefs — or, indeed, a woman’s — should be dictated to by others and any transgression punished by violence.’
De Wolfe was intrigued by her words. A freethinking woman was almost unknown, at least any daring to put such thoughts into words.
‘You have some sympathy with these heretics, lady?’ he asked gently.
Cecilia looked startled, as if she had just realised that perhaps she was speaking unwisely. ‘My husband would not favour my expressing such thoughts, I’m sure! He has very strong views on this subject, as on everything else.’
John did not miss the trace of bitterness in her voice and fell to wondering what might go on in the house next to his own. But not wanting to end the meeting, he steered the conversation on to safer ground.
‘Your husband is busy, then? His practice is flourishing?’
She smiled wanly. ‘I rarely see him except at mealtimes!’
And in bed, thought John — what husband would not wish that? ‘He visits his patients at their homes as well as at his doctor’s chamber?’
She nodded. ‘He is being called from far afield now, to manors and castles all across the county. He keeps a fine horse there, where your great destrier also lodges.’ A gloved hand appeared from under her cloak, pointing to Andrew’s livery stables opposite their houses.
‘I trust he looks to his safety, Mistress Cecilia,’ he said gravely. ‘Riding the Devon roads can be a dangerous business, given the number of outlaws and malcontents that infest the forests. Even a rough old Crusader like myself rarely rides alone these days.’
‘Clement always has a manservant with him, a former soldier,’ she said, pulling her cloak around her more tightly. ‘And I don’t think you are a rough old Crusader, Sir John. You are a gentleman and a brave one at that, by all the accounts I’ve heard!’
Flushing slightly at her own boldness, she bowed her head and hurried away, her maid trotting at her heels. De Wolfe watched her until she vanished around the corner of his house, for hers was set back slightly from the edge of the lane.
‘Well, well!’ he thought to himself, feeling a pleasant glow at being flattered by a desirable woman. ‘She seems at odds with her husband’s opinion. There’s a woman with a mind of her own.’
He walked to his front door and, once inside, heard voices in the hall. He sat on the bench in the vestibule to pull off his boots, then, as he hung up his cloak on a peg and put on some leather slippers, he groaned when he recognised the reedy tones of his brother-in-law on the other side of the inner door. Reluctantly, he pushed it open and went between the draught-screens into the hall. As he feared, Richard de Revelle was standing with his back to the hearth, bleating and gesticulating to his sister Matilda, who sat in one of the hooded monks’ chairs. Hearing John enter, he jerked up his head and redirected his high-pitched voice towards him.
‘It’s not good enough, John. You and that lazy successor of mine must do something about it!’
De Wolfe had no idea what he was talking about, but he advanced to the centre of the hall and bobbed his head curtly in greeting. Though he detested the man, he felt obliged as the host to at least be civil and went to his side table to pour some wine, this time into pewter cups, rather than the grand glass goblets that he had brought out for the doctor and his wife.