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Bartholomew did not mind. The loans Wynewyk had made to d’Audley and Elyan had been less than scrupulous, but the deeds in Margery’s satchel revealed that the one to Luneday was perfectly honourable. And Michaelhouse, not Wynewyk, had stood to profit from it. The physician wondered whether Wynewyk had negotiated it out of guilt – that he had wanted his College to have something after he had disappeared to London with the riches arising from the diamonds he had planned to sell.

While Bartholomew and Luneday were busy, Michael went to Withersfield’s quiet churchyard. He found Carbo’s grave – Agnys had arranged for his return to the village of his birth – and scraped a hole in the freshly turned soil. Then he reached into his saddlebag and extracted the stones that had caused so much trouble. He dropped them into the hollow and replaced all as he had found it, hoping they would never resurface to cause trouble in the future.

‘Are you sure you should go to Clare, Brother?’ asked Agnys, while she and the monk waited for Bartholomew to finish with Luneday’s pig. ‘Is it the best thing you can do?’

‘I have given it a lot of thought, and I think it is,’ replied Michael, watching Bartholomew walk towards them, Luneday jabbering at his side. ‘Besides, we need to retrieve the Stanton Cups, and Gosse tells me they are in Clare.’

‘I took care of that for you,’ said Agnys. ‘I almost forgot. I sent word to Prior John, and he found them. Here are your silver-gilt chalices.’

She handed over a bundle of cloth, which Michael snatched eagerly. He unwrapped it, and ran loving fingers over Michaelhouse’s most precious heirlooms.

‘One is dented,’ he said. ‘But it can be repaired, and they are otherwise unharmed. Thank you.’

Neither heard the faint rustle of leaves as the person in the bushes shifted positions. Cynric’s head snapped up, but there was nothing to see, and he soon turned his attention back to the horses.

As soon as Cynric was occupied, Idoma eased forward again. She regarded the monk with a glittering hatred. The Stanton Cups were all that was left of the riches her brother had acquired in Cambridge, because the rest had been seized and returned to its rightful owners. She had intended to grab them and go to London, which the foolish Wynewyk had said was a good place for anyone wanting to disappear – huge, sprawling and transient. But she had left it too late. She felt like killing someone, so hot was her rage, and it was all she could do to stop herself from racing out and tearing the scholars apart with her bare hands.

‘You have no reason to go to Clare now,’ Agnys was saying to the monk. ‘You can stay with me again tonight, and return to Cambridge tomorrow. There is nothing for anyone in Clare.’

‘You are wrong,’ said Michael evenly, aware that Bartholomew was listening now. ‘I found a great deal to interest me there, and I believe Matt will, too.’

They were going to Clare? Idoma’s heart quickened. She knew the road well, and there were plenty of places for an ambush. Two well-placed arrows would take care of the book-bearer and the physician, and the beadles would mill around in panic. And then she would kill the monk with her knife, and the cups would be hers – along with vengeance for her losses.

But Agnys was arguing with the Benedictine. ‘I disagree. Strongly. But Matthew is your friend, so I suppose you must decide what is best.’

Bartholomew looked from one to the other, bemused. ‘I thought Clare was just a pretty village with a castle and a priory. Is there something–’

‘Nothing that will benefit from unannounced visits,’ interrupted Agnys. She looked at Michael. ‘Well? Will you listen to the advice of a wise old woman?’

Go, thought Idoma fiercely, fingers tight on the hilt of her dagger. Ignore the meddling old woman and go to Clare.

Michael rubbed his chin. ‘I am thinking about it.’

Historical Note

Twenty-first century Haverhill is a thriving market town with a population that expanded radically after the Second World War, and fires – particularly one in the seventeenth century – have robbed it of much of its medieval heritage. Although considerably smaller than today, it was still a bustling village in the Middle Ages. It was located on a major road, and tolls probably added to its wealth. It had a huge triangular marketplace, with shops that sold meat, cloth, fish and fancy goods. Archaeological investigations have also found animal bones in the kind of number that might suggest some serious slaughterhouse activity.

Two churches were extant in Haverhill in the 1350s. One was St Mary the Virgin, which still stands in the marketplace today. Adam de Neubold and John de Hilton were both priests appointed shortly after the plague. The second church was earlier, and was also dedicated to St Mary, although reference to ‘Bovetownchurch’ (meaning ‘upper church’, probably because it was on a hill) has led some sources to speculate that the dedication might have been to St Botolph. The Alneston Chantry was mentioned in later wills, and its location is uncertain.

Haverhill boasted several manors, too. The main one was called the Castle, and was owned by the de Clare family until the early fourteenth century, when it passed to the Earl of Gloucester (Hugh d’Audley). A sub-manor of Haverhill was Helions (also spelled Elyan or Helyan). It was in the hands of Henry de Elyan and his wife Agnys in 1332. Then it passed to their son John, and to John’s son Henry. Folyat is another name that crops up in contemporary records of the area.

Pretty Withersfield, just a couple of miles north-north-west of Haverhill, had one manor, which was owned by the Luneday (or Loveday) family. A William of Withersfield lived in the village just before the plague.

Meanwhile, back in Cambridge, historical records show that King’s Hall purchased timber and coal (or possibly charcoal) from Haverhill in the fourteenth century. Its Warden in 1357 was Thomas Powys, who had earned his Master’s degree by 1333. He died in 1361. Thomas Paxtone was a Fellow of King’s Hall by 1342, and went on to take posts in Lincoln, Chichester and Hackney. Their colleague John de Shropham was Powys’s successor as Warden.

The Master of Michaelhouse was Ralph de Langelee, who remained in post until 1366. Michael de Causton was a contemporary, as were John Clippesby, Thomas Suttone, William de Thelnetham, and Simon Hemmysby. John Valence and William Risleye were members of Michaelhouse in the 1400s. John Tesdale, who was a Fellow in the 1380s, bequeathed the University library a large number of books. John Wynewyk was an early benefactor of Michaelhouse, whose name was included in the list of people for whom prayers were to be said.

The College’s founder, Hervey de Stanton, left Michaelhouse two silver-gilt chalices when he died, which were said to be among its most valued possessions.