Edgar did so, smiling at Cecily as though this was all a normal part of his duties, and waited. A few moments later there was a scratching noise, and then the wooden peg fell from its hole and dangled at the end of its restraining string. Only a short time later the bar jerked a little and lifted. It rose until it was free of the bracket, and the shutter opened.
‘A simple task,’ Baldwin said. ‘You need a better craftsman to build your shutters in future.’
Daniel gave grudging acknowledgement. ‘I didn’t expect you to find it so swiftly.’
‘How is it done?’ Sir Peregrine asked with interest.
‘There is a long splinter in one plank,’ Baldwin explained. ‘When you prise it to one side, it reveals where the carpenter’s auger pierced the timbers to make the hole for the peg. Slide a knife’s point into that little hole, and you push out the peg. Once that’s done, all you need do is lift the bar. Very easy. So!’ he concluded, clapping his hands with decision. ‘Replace that shutter, or cover the splinter with a fresh piece of timber, and the draw-latch will be prevented from entering again.’
‘My thanks,’ Daniel said sarcastically. ‘And in the meantime, if he is still determined, what then?’
Sir Peregrine was able to answer that. ‘It is a man going about at night with a dagger and entering your property, my friend. You know what you can do to him. Kill him.’
Chapter Six
He was dead. Fitting that the man should have been granted the privilege of dying not only in the friary, but actually on the Sabbath! That was a rare honour, and reflected the pride which John had felt in winning this man for the Order.
Not that the Bishop would want to see it that way, of course. And there could be some fighting about the way that the friary had taken the man’s money already. Still, the money had been bequeathed before his death, and then passed over to the friary. If the canons on the cathedral close wanted to impose new rules affecting everyone, it was only their own fault if people sought means to evade the new costs. Why should the friary obey the cathedral? The latter demanded ancient rights and privileges to be honoured by all, but then trampled on the rights of the newer Orders like John’s. The canons were only fools who segregated themselves a little, when all was said and done. They had no real part to play in the new world.
John saw to the cleaning of the body, setting the limbs neatly before wrapping it in a spotless linen winding sheet. At last he straightened up, wiping his hands dry after dipping them in a bowl of water, and then stood surveying his work. A little while later he left Robert and two other friars to carry the man to the altar, and made his way to the private cell of the Prior.
‘He is dead?’
Prior Guibert was a tall, thin, almost emaciated man whose cadaverous features and great height gave the impression of feebleness of spirit, yet no one who had heard him preach could believe that he was about to expire from exhaustion or age. Although he appeared ancient, Guibert still possessed the same mental focus which had led to his election as one of the diffinitores, the senior officers of the Friars Preacher who could decide all matters of discipline within the Order.
‘He is dead.’
Guibert smiled thinly, and wiped a hand over his bald pate, a gesture that invariably indicated that he was concentrating hard. He brought his hand down over his forehead and held it a moment in front of his eyes as though the darkness could aid his focus, and then slowly withdrew it.
John felt his heart swell to see his master’s face clear. The fine, bright blue-grey eyes gazed into the distance for a while as though unaware of John or the walls of the cell itself. In his face John could see only certainty. This was a man who knew his position in the world and the importance of his role in it.
No, it was more than that. Guibert was entirely honest and decent. He had only ever sought to improve the priory to better help the poor of the city. His integrity was beyond compare, his vision and intellect superior to all others.
Now he took a little breath and spoke quietly. ‘I feel sure that the honourable and worthy knight will be a fitting addition to our little cemetery. He has devoted his life to the Church and his death and burial in our cloister mean that his soul will be saved.’
John smiled and nodded. He was awed by the strength and purpose of this man. He always had been, ever since he first heard of the way Guibert defended this same little convent against the attack of the black-hearted devils of the cathedral.
‘Let us pray for the safe arrival of his soul in Heaven,’ said Guibert, and when he knelt, John could already feel the tears forming in his eyes. Not for the dead man — he was already fading from his memory — but at the renewal of his admiration for this wonderful man, the man who had caused the Bishop of Exeter to be excommunicated.
Guibert left John there in his cell, and John waited a while, praying happily. Later, leaving it, he saw Guibert again. He was outside, and it was a slight surprise to John to see that he was talking to a merchant, that rather unpleasantly worldly fellow, Master Jordan le Bolle. But he didn’t think much of it. He had too much to sort out with the funeral arrangements.
Agnes and Juliana were in the market for some little while, hunting down a bolt of cloth for a new dress for Juliana, and when they returned Cecily was so thrilled by the sight of the striped ray material that she quite forgot to mention the visitors at first.
‘What is this?’ Agnes asked when she saw the goblets on the table. ‘Have you been playing with your father’s best wine, child?’
Her tone was mocking, but Cecily knew that her aunt believed in strict discipline for children. ‘Oh, I forgot. The Coroner and the Keeper of the Peace were here to speak to Father,’ she said quickly.
‘And what did they want?’ Juliana asked with a smile, loosening her wimple and shaking her hair free. It had been irritating her all day. Her maid simply could not make her hair lie comfortably. She should throw the wench out and find a new one.
‘They wanted to speak about the man Father beat,’ Cecily said, her head bowed over her little rag doll. ‘And then they wanted to hear about the man who breaks into the house. They were very cross at first, but they said that they understood how angry Father must be to find a stranger in our solar, so they said he could kill the man if he came again.’
Juliana’s face darkened. ‘You are making this up, child, aren’t you? What would they want to hear about our troubles for?’
‘I’m not!’ Cecily retorted with spirit. ‘They said that if there was a man in the house, Father could kill him. It’s the law, they said.’
‘Cecily, go and play outside for a while,’ Agnes said soothingly. ‘I want to speak to your mother.’
When Cecily was gone, she sat on a bench. ‘Are you very troubled about this affair? The drunk outside the tavern?’
Juliana avoided her eye. ‘It was a shameful thing to do. Ham was no threat to anyone.’
‘He had already stabbed one man.’
‘That was an accident. I am sure he would have given Daniel the knife if Daniel had asked for it. But he didn’t. He rushed in and killed the fellow. The poor man had his head crushed.’
‘Your husband was always too prone to violence.’
‘He was not! He was ever a kindly man to me and the children!’ Juliana declared tartly. ‘But he has changed in the last few months. You must have noticed, sister!’
‘Not I! But then in the last months I have seen less of him.’
‘He did not want you to go, but you wouldn’t give up that other, would you?’
‘And why should I?’
‘That, and the pressure of his work …’ Juliana said unkindly. She felt no need to support her sister if Agnes was going to insult her husband.
Agnes looked away uncomfortably.