Monday dawn brought news; some good, some bad. Flakes of snow blew across the Canterbury Hall yard. I clutched my fur coat — our assailants had not stolen it — tight about me and made for the kitchen where I hoped to find loaves warm from the oven to fortify me and Arthur for our journey.
I saw the porter leave his post at the gatehouse as I crossed to the kitchen. He walked hurriedly to Master John's chamber and thumped firmly upon the door. I gave this event no thought and entered the kitchen.
The kitchen was warm and I was tempted to linger. But this would not get me to Wallingford, where I proposed that Arthur and I would seek an inn for the night. I tucked two loaves under an arm and departed the kitchen in time to see Master John turn from the porter, with whom he had evidently been in conversation. The scholar did not glance my way. He walked swiftly across the yard, approached the guest chamber, and was about to pound upon the door when I greeted him.
Master John spun on his heels. When he saw it was me who spoke his countenance broke into a smile.
"Ah, Master Hugh… there is good news this day."
"What?" I grumbled, glancing at the sky and the occasional flake of snow dropping from low clouds. "Arthur and I will begin our journey with a snowy wind at our backs rather than in our faces?" I am occasionally given to sarcasm. This a flaw I recognize but have not yet mastered. And the wind was indeed from the northwest.
"Nay, Hugh. You need not set out today. Perhaps not tomorrow or next day, either." Master John noted my puzzled expression and quickly continued. "Sir John Trillowe is replaced as sheriff. Roger de Elmerugg has been appointed the post. The town is abuzz with the news."
I remembered Sir Roger. He was sheriff for a time some years before. I could recall no complaints against him; no more so than any man assigned to keep the peace and enforce the King's law. Sir Roger is not, I think, a man of great wealth. When Roger de Cottesford replaced him three years past all suspected it was because de Cottesford offered King Edward more for the post. If de Elmerugg was now again ensconced in the castle, it was unlikely he outbid Sir John for the office. Perhaps the burghers of Oxford had made good their threat to complain to the King of Trillowe's high-handed and pecuniary governance.
I understood Master John's smile. "Sir Simon no longer has the castle to protect him should an investigation of these matters come close to him."
"Just so," Wyclif agreed. "He is yet a danger to you, I think, but not so worrisome as before."
"Indeed," I smiled. "'Tis he who has cause to fret now. I have heard Lord Gilbert speak well of Sir Roger. They fought side by side at Poitiers."
"There will be less trouble to dig to the truth now," Wyclif agreed. "How will you be about it?"
"I must give the matter some thought. This is too great an opportunity to spoil with foolish measures."
"Aye. Prudence and forethought. Virtues Oxford scholars generally neglect. How did you acquire them, Hugh?"
"You will recall when hasty judgment nearly led me to see Thomas Shilton hanged for a murder neither he nor any man committed?"
"Aye, I remember well… the lass all thought was dead was a wench in a tavern just off the Canditch.
"Very well," he continued. "I will abide your caution. But set yourself in my place. There now seems a door open for measures which may see my books returned to me. Can you grasp my impatience?"
I could. Many scholars did not accumulate twenty books in a lifetime of study and collection. Even while he spoke, thoughts jostled about in my mind of deeds which might resolve the matter to Master John's satisfaction. Since our escape from the swineherd's hut and our encounter with Sir Simon and his cohorts, an image of a horseman wearing a green surcoat had much engaged my mind. Perhaps, could the fellow be discovered, he might be persuaded to tell what he knew of Sir Simon's business. Yesterday this would not have been so, but now Sir Simon could not demand loyalty from others and threaten the castle dungeon did he not receive it. I spoke of this to Master John.
"Will you seek aid of Sir Roger?" Wyclif asked. "He is no friend of Sir John, 'tis said."
"He may be minded to help us, but I think today he will be visited by many supplicants. By evening he will be pleased to be rid of them, and will likely recall little of their petitions. Better to wait a day or two to call on him. Arthur and I will observe Oxford's streets, seeking a man with a reddish beard who fends off the cold with a green surcoat."
Arthur was privy to this conversation. I gave him one of the cooling loaves and we discussed this new state of affairs while we broke our fast.
Arthur munched thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "What if the fellow owns two surcoats? One for ridin', like, an' another for town?"
Arthur may be no scholar, but neither is he a fool. "We will search for a red beard. We must hope the fellow has not both shaved and changed his coat. We will divide the town, I think. You walk about the castle, up to Rewley Abbey and the Carmelite Friars, then back to St Ebbe's. I will go about from St Frideswide's to the Canditch, then east to the Cherwell."
"Best stop at Caxton's shop," Arthur grinned, and see that the fellow has not called there for ink or parchment."
"I will do so," I laughed, and slapped Arthur across the back. We had been through much in the last fortnight and I was grown fond of the man.
I walked with Arthur down St Frideswide's Lane, then left him at Fish Street, where he continued west on Pennyfarthing Street toward the castle. Folk were just beginning to venture out upon their business and shopkeepers were opening shutters. I saw more than one cast a frowning glance to the clouds. The occasional snowflake fell on upturned cheeks.
Any man who could might wish to keep to his bed on such a morning. Certainly a young gentleman, did his father leave him sufficient funds, would look with disfavor upon any venture which called him out of doors early this day. I did not expect to see many young knights on the streets, wearing green surcoat or otherwise. I did not.
I walked a circle, from the Northgate to Holywell Street, thence to Longwall Street and the Trinitarian Friars. From there I turned right and strolled west on St John's Street until I was once again before the gate to Canterbury Hall.
The sacrist of St Frideswide's Priory rang the bell for terce as I stood before the gate, contemplating which way I might next go. There are streets and alleys in Oxford where searching for a gentleman would be like seeking salmon in a well. I set off for the High Street, then circled north on School Street and once again back to the Northgate. I found nothing but a blister upon my heel for the morning's stroll.
Arthur was prompt for dinner. Some things in this life are unchangeable. After bowls of pottage, this day flavored with fragments of mutton do I not mistake me, we set off again to search for our quarry.
But first I sought Kate. She was employed in the workroom when I entered the shop, and was eager to learn more of Sir John Trillowe's dismissal. I told her what I knew, which was little more than her father had already learned from gossip among the merchants who sought custom on the Holywell Street and Canditch.
"A red-bearded gentleman wearing a green surcoat accompanied Sir Simon yesterday. A fellow much like that was pitched into the Thames when Arthur tossed the log a fortnight past."
"I remember you speaking of the man and his swim," Caxton frowned. "He carries a grudge, I think."
"So do I. Arthur and I are exploring the town this day to see can we find the fellow. He is in some service to Sir Simon, I think, but now that Sir John is dismissed he may wish to trim his sails to the new breeze."