You know what would happen — wealthy families would decline to send their sons here, and the University would eventually cease to exist altogether.'
Bartholomew shot a quick look at Aelfrith sitting next to him, echoes of their conversation coming back to him. Perhaps Aelfrith was right, and the whole affair was a plot by rivals to strike at the very foundations of the University.
The Bishop looked at each of the Fellows in turn before continuing. 'Neither you nor I has a choice in this matter. I have already spoken with the Chancellor and he agrees with me as to the course of action that must be taken. I repeat that you have no choice in this matter. There will be a funeral service for Augustus the day after tomorrow. It will be said that his body was discovered in the orchard, where he had been hiding.
The excitement of the installation was too much for him, and had addled his wits. There are, I believe, medical conditions that make a living man appear as a corpse.
Augustus was afflicted by this and was pronounced dead by the College physician. He later awoke from this trance, and struck Aelfrith from behind while he was praying.
He ran down the stairs and slipped through the College buildings to the orchard, where he later died. Brother Paul, who had become depressed with his illness, took his own life. The other commoner…' The Bishop waved his hand impatiently.
'Montfitchet,' offered Wilson in a small voice, the enormity of what was being asked shaking him out of his usual smugness.
'Montfitchet, yes. Montfitchet died of his own excesses. The commoners have already attested to that. The man made a pig of himself all night, despite complaining of stomach pains caused by his gluttony. And that, Fellows of Michaelhouse, is what the world will be told happened here. There will be no rumours of evil in the College,' he said, looking hard at the Franciscans, 'and no tales of dead bodies walking in the night to murder their colleagues.'
He sat back to indicate that he had finished speaking.
The conclave was totally silent, as the Fellows let his words sink in. The clerks, usually furiously scribbling when the Bishop spoke, sat ominously still. No record was being made of this meeting.
Bartholomew looked at the Bishop aghast. So, the Church and the University were prepared to cover the whole thing up, to smother the truth in a thick blanket of lies.
'No!' he cried, leaping to his feet, wincing as his injured knee took his weight. Ttwould be wrong! Brother Paul was a good man, and you cannot condemn him to a grave in unconsecrated soil and allow his and Montfitchet's murderer to walk free!'
The Bishop rose, his eyes hard with anger, although his face remained calm.' Brother Paul will be buried in the churchyard, Doctor,' he said. "I will grant him a special dispensation in view of his age and state of mind.'
'But what of his murderer?' Bartholomew persisted, unappeased.
'There was no murderer,' said the Bishop softly.
'You heard what I said. One suicide, and two deaths by misadventure.'
'The servants already know Paul was murdered!
They saw his body! And there are already rumours around the town.'
'Then you must make certain that no such rumours are given credence. You mustprey on people' s sympathies — a poor old man, lying alone listening to the celebrations in the hall. He decides to release his soul to the Lord so that he will no longer be an encumbrance to his College.
Master Wilson tells me that there was a note saying as much found in Paul's hand.'
Bartholomew stared at Wilson in shock. The plan was becoming more and more elaborate with each passing moment. Wilson refused to meet Bartholomew's eyes and busied himself twisting the rings on his fat fingers.
"I agree with Bartholomew.' Swynford was also on his feet. 'This plan is not only foolhardy, but dangerous. If ever the truth were to be found out, we would all hang!'
'You will hang for treason if you do not comply,' said the Bishop casually, sitting down again. "I have already informed you that the University cannot afford a scandal. There are many at King's Hall who enjoy the King's protection, who will consider any dissent in this matter to be a deliberate act of defiance towards the Crown.'
Swynford sat down hastily. He was well-enough connected with the University's power-brokers to know that this was not an idle threat. Bartholomew thought back to Aelfrith's words. The King, and his father before him, had invested money and power in King's Hall; any weakening of the University would injure their institution too, and no King liked to discover that he had made a poor choice in where he invested his authority.
'But what if Augustus's body is discovered after we "bury" it?' Bartholomew asked anxiously, his mind running through a wealth of possibilities in which the Michaelhouse Fellows would be discovered and exposed.
'Augustus will not be recovered, Doctor Bartholomew,' said the Bishop smoothly. "I am sure I can rely on you all to see to that.'
Bartholomew swallowed. 'But this is against the laws of the Church and the State, and I will not do it,' he said quietly.
'Against the laws of the Church and the State?' said the Bishop musingly. 'And who do you think makes these laws?' His voice became hard. 'The King makes the laws of the State, and the Bishops make the laws of the Church.
You have no choice.' "I will resign my fellowship,' persisted Bartholomew, 'rather than be a part of this.'
'There will be no resignations,' said the Bishop.
'We can afford no scandal. Now, we must come to some arrangement. Master Wilson informs me that you wish for a larger room for your medical consultations and an increase in your stipend 'And I will not be bribed!' retorted Bartholomew angrily.
The Bishop's face turned white with anger and Bartholomew knew that his protestations had touched a raw nerve. He stood again and advanced on Bartholomew.
"I see you have a bad leg, Doctor. Perhaps you would like to return with me to Ely so that my barber-surgeon can treat it? Perhaps there we can persuade you of your wisest course of action.' He gave Bartholomew one of the coldest smiles the physician had ever seen, and pushed him back down onto the bench.
William grabbed Bartholomew's arm as the Bishop walked back to his chair. 'For God's sake, man! 'he hissed.
'The Bishop is being more than patient! He could hang you for treason right now, and if you force him to take you with him to Ely, you can be sure that you will not return the same man!'
Aelfrith nodded vigorously. 'Remember what I said to you,' he whispered. 'There are forces at work here of which you have no idea. Your life will not be worth a fig if you do not comply.'
'Now,' the Bishop began again, having controlled himself somewhat, "I will require all here to take an oath that you will act as I have suggested. Master Wilson.'
The Bishop extended his hand, and Wilson stood slowly and knelt in front of the Bishop. He took the proffered hand.
"I swear, by all that I hold holy, that I will do everything in my power to save the College, the University, and the King's name from disrepute. I will tell no one of the events of last night other than as you suggest.' He kissed the seal on the Bishop's ring, bowed, and left the hall without looking back. For the first time since he had known him, Bartholomew felt sorry for Wilson. As Master, he had obviously been held responsible for the events of the night, and would have a formidable task in ensuring the Bishop's fabric of lies was accepted outside the College.
The Bishop eyed Swynford, who rose and swore the same oath. Bartholomew's thoughts were in turmoil.
How could he make such a promise? It would be a betrayal of Sir John, Augustus, Paul, and Montfitchet.
He would be saying that he, one of the most highly qualified physicians in the country, was unable to tell the difference between a living man and a dead one!