He was so knocked back, Sir Richard wondered whether he had indeed led the poor child on. Perhaps even raped her. It was hardlyunknown for a pretty maid to be bedded by her master, and if the master then thought that the mad bint was going to try tokill him and his wife, it would hardly be surprising if he was a little unnerved by the thought.
‘Aye, well, I’ll be leaving you now. Business to attend to,’ he said, and made his way from the hall, out into the court andthence to the castle gate. ‘Hoi, guard, where is the best alehouse around here?’
He was soon being given directions to the place favoured by the castle’s guards, and thinking that a tavern which was patronisedby the castle’s men at arms would be ideal for him too, he set off over the bridge to the High Street. But before he could reach it, he saw the grim face of Langatre hurryingup the street towards him.
‘You are in a hurry.’
‘I have been searching for you, Coroner. You can be a most elusive person on occasion. You must come with me to hear whathas been happening to the poor man Michael in his own house.’
Coroner Richard held up his hands. ‘Tell me as we walk. I have a need of some food and drink first, though. If you want totell me this tale, do so now and while I eat.’
‘You must come at once, Coroner!’
‘Why?’
‘The man Robinet — he has been torturing Michael. I had to get him away, and have left him with a leech.’
‘So he is safe at the moment?’
‘Well …’
‘Tell me as I eat, then,’ the imperturbable coroner repeated, and listened as he marched at his best speed to the tavern, Langatre dancing at his side as he tried to keep up. ‘You know this Michael?’
‘Yes. He is an old companion of mine in the taverns. He is a kindly man. He doesn’t deserve this assault.’
‘Then what was he doing protecting this necromancer? It sounds to me, from what you’ve said, that the fellow deserved allhe got.’
‘It is illegal to capture a man and torture him,’ Langatre said, and there was a fierce determination in his voice.
Coroner Richard looked at him for a long moment. Then, ‘Very well. But first I want my companions to join us. I will senda message for them to meet us here. Now, where is that bone-idle bugger of a landlord? HOI! HOI! I AM THIRSTY!’
Exeter City
John had heard the brouhaha as soon as the first knock came on the door. He had already packed up all his remaining belongingsagainst just such an eventuality, although it did not please him to learn that his place of hiding was already discovered. Still, at least the man who owned the house would keep his mouth shut if he knew what was best for him.
Quickly, he grabbed his pack, now considerably heavier than it had been originally, and threw it over his back by the stoutrope that bound it. He ran to the wattle fencing hurdles and pushed his way between a pair of them, then darted up the adjacentgarden all the way to the end, where it gave out onto the road near the south-western corner of the city wall. Once there,he set off eastwards. That was the way to the busy street from the South Gate, and once there he could easily lose himselfin the crowds.
He was still cursing under his breath as he reached the gate, and turned northwards again, pulling his hood over his face. In this cold weather, most people were doing the same, conserving their warmth as best they might, and he did not stand out. It was ideal.
Yes. It was annoying that his refuge had been lost, but perhaps it was all for the best. Now he had but one night to worryabout, and for that he knew exactly where to go. In the north-western angle of the wall was the old Franciscan abbey, butthe brothers had moved from the city a few years ago, to a new location outside the walls near the river. Since then, theplace that had held their cloisters and dormitories had become the province of various poverty-stricken families. There wouldbe space there for a poor wanderer like him, and no one would be the wiser. It was only for one evening, after all.
It took him little time to find the place. Soon he was traversing the muddy, icy paths, and looking for a dwelling that couldaccommodate him. There were several near the outer wall, but he didn’t want to be too close to the edges. Better to be entirelyimmersed. He would keep on going until he felt sure that no one following him would be able to find him with ease.
At last he saw it. A rough lean-to, much of whose thatched roof had long ago disintegrated. However, a section of it stillfunctioned, and when he peered in through the doorway he saw that beneath the straw there was a good space in among the rafters,and if he pushed the door up there he would be able to lie snugly off the floor, secure from the wet and hopefully warm enough.
Pushing the door up was a trial, but in time he succeeded, and then he clambered up after it, opening his pack and pullingout his book, and laying it reverently on the boards. Next was the blanket, wrapped about the first of the figures, and hetook it out now, peering at it with some pride. Tomorrow it would serve its purpose.
It was almost dark already when the three men were able to sit at the table at their inn and rest.
‘Not a sign of him,’ Baldwin muttered as he eased his legs out before him and leaned back against the wall.
‘He could have been swallowed by the earth,’ Coroner Richard agreed.
Simon was more positive. ‘Perhaps he has left the city to escape? After seeing what Robinet did to that landlord, I’m notsurprised.’
They had gone to speak to Michael almost as soon as Baldwin and Simon had met the coroner in the tavern. Langatre had taken them at an urgent pace to the physician’s house where he had deposited him, and he had held back as theyentered, as though fearing that Robinet might have been there before them and killed all in the house. ‘He’s a mad bastard,that one. He enjoyed cutting off Michael’s fingers. I swear it! He enjoyed it.’
The tanner was little help. ‘I don’t know where he is. I rented him a room, and then he came to ask for another. That’s all.’
‘You were renting the undercroft to this man, weren’t you?’ Simon pressed him. ‘You knew he was planning to murder the bishop,didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell the beadle? It was your duty.’
‘I didn’t dare. I thought he was a powerful wizard, and it looks as if he is, doesn’t it? I mean, where is he? If he was a man, someone wouldhave seen him by now, and yet he’s disappeared. He must be a necromancer with a lot of power.’
‘He could just be hiding in a room somewhere where the landlord is not fussy,’ the coroner commented. ‘Come, now, where couldhe have gone?’
‘I tell you, I do not know!’
Thinking back to his terrified expression, Simon reckoned that if he had even a remote inkling as to where this ‘John’ hadgot to, he would have told them. Apart from anything else, it was clear that he wanted someone else to suffer for the painhe had endured that day.
‘And he didn’t have any more idea where Robinet could have gone,’ Baldwin observed. ‘Where can he have got to?’
‘In God’s name,’ the coroner grunted, loosening his boots, ‘I confess I find these disappearances baffling. Each time someonefinds the wizard, he seems to slip away. And now that damned fool Robinet has gone too.’
‘Perhaps the pair of them have killed each other,’ Simon mused. ‘What do you reckon, Rob?’
‘Me? I don’t know anything, do I? I just get sent to walk about in the cold and stare at people, I do. No brain at all, me. Except I was able to help tell you about the sheriff, of course.’
The coroner had an amiably bovine face, but it concealed a sharp mind, and there was nothing wrong with his hearing. ‘Eh? What’s this?’
Baldwin sighed and closed his eyes. ‘If you continue to speak out of turn, Rob, you will learn that life can be unfair andmore than moderately painful. Coroner, this was some information that came to us. It would seem possible that the bishop hassome strong concerns about the sheriff, and has even gone so far as to put them to the king.’