‘So do I,’ interrupted Wormynghalle, not to be outdone on the chivalry front.
‘–so I gave my word to Gonerby, as he died, that I would find his murderer,’ finished Eu, looking Wormynghalle up and down in disdain, to deny that he and the tanner shared common ideals.
‘Tell me this killer’s name,’ said Michael. ‘If he is guilty, then he is yours to take to Oxford.’
‘Gonerby did not know it,’ replied Abergavenny. ‘That is why we came ourselves, and did not entrust servants to find him.’
‘Tracking a killer is not easy, and will need men of intelligence and cunning,’ said Wormynghalle, oblivious to the long-suffering glances his colleagues exchanged behind his back. ‘That means us. Besides, Gonerby was popular, and if I catch his killer, everyone will vote for me as Mayor.’
‘Many people died during that riot,’ said Michael. ‘What makes Gonerby’s death worthy of investigation, when others are not?’
‘He was wealthy, popular and influential – a parchment-maker,’ replied Eu, twisting his nutmeg ring around on his finger. ‘We cannot afford to have men like him murdered and their killers going free. What message would that send to the general populace?’
‘We do not want scholars thinking they can slaughter us as they please, and nothing bad will ever happen to them,’ elaborated Wormynghalle, who did not seem averse to stating the obvious. ‘It might encourage others to try their luck.’
‘This is an odd tale,’ said Michael, frowning. ‘You know more about Gonerby’s death – and about his killer – than you are telling, since you cannot possibly hope to snag the culprit with the information you have shared with us. It is simply not enough to allow you to start.’
‘We know the killer is a scholar,’ offered Abergavenny. ‘Gonerby said he wore a student’s dark garb and he heard him say Oxford was too dangerous, so he would study in Cambridge instead.’
‘That does suggest you should look to a University member for your culprit,’ admitted Tynkell. ‘But it does not tell us whether he was an Oxford student who saw Cambridge as a safe haven, or whether he was a Cambridge student who happened to be visiting Oxford at the time of the riot.’
Abergavenny nodded. ‘So, we intend to look at both possibilities. Gonerby’s widow told us we cannot go home unless we bring her a killer. She made us promise to fulfil her husband’s last wish, even if we die in the attempt.’
‘She is a forceful lady,’ said Eu, not entirely admiringly. ‘Just because we three happened to stumble on the dying Gonerby, she decided we should be the ones to hunt down his murderer. I did not want to oblige, but we had made that promise to Gonerby, so it became a point of honour.’
‘I was only speaking to comfort the man in his final agonies,’ said Abergavenny ruefully. ‘But Wormynghalle here made the promise public and Mistress Gonerby held us to it.’ He cast an admonishing, resentful glance at the tanner.
‘I did what was right,’ declared Wormynghalle defensively. ‘How was I to know you were only humouring Gonerby when you swore to avenge him? I was under the impression that you held the same principles as me, and I was astonished to learn you were ready to renege.’
‘You are deliberately misrepresenting us,’ snapped Eu, seeming to forget he was in the Chancellor’s office and the argument was being witnessed by strangers. ‘Of course I believe in honour and the sanctity of oaths, but this was different. I was trying to calm him, not agree to sacrifice weeks of my life searching for a fellow whose name and description we do not know.’
‘It has cost you little so far,’ said Wormynghalle nastily. ‘You arrived here eleven days ago, and you have spent virtually all that time establishing new business contacts.’
‘We did not promise to hunt this killer to the exclusion of all else,’ said Abergavenny reasonably. ‘And the opportunities that have arisen in and around Cambridge have been irresistible.’
‘For spicers and vintners maybe,’ snapped Wormynghalle. ‘But not for tanners. Mine is not a trade that benefits from distant agreements – it is cheaper to buy and sell my materials locally.’
Abergavenny smiled to acknowledge his point, then turned to Michael. ‘But we have drawn our personal affairs to a close, and now we are ready to begin our hunt.’
‘But this still does not explain why you did not visit Cambridge sooner,’ said Michael. ‘If this quest is so important, then why the delay? Gonerby has been dead almost four months.’
‘We could not just up and leave,’ declared Eu. ‘We had arrangements to make, and there were important matters that required our attention. We came as soon as we could.’
‘We came when it became obvious we had no choice,’ corrected Abergavenny ruefully. ‘We thought the task an impossible one from the start, and were reluctant to begin something we could not finish. But Widow Gonerby is a forceful woman, and she was backed by the guilds. Gonerby was well liked, and everyone insisted that his last wish should be carried out.’
‘Because the city is under interdict, Gonerby was buried without the appropriate rites and his wife was furious,’ added Eu. He shuddered. ‘I would not like to see her lose her temper again – and she will, if we return without a culprit.’
‘An interdict is a terrible thing,’ agreed Tynkell. ‘Corpses rot in the streets, because their kin refuse to allow them to be buried without a requiem mass. The stench offends my delicate senses.’
For a moment, no one spoke, and all three merchants, Bartholomew and Michael regarded him in wary disbelief. Then Eu pointedly lifted a heavy pomander to his nose and mouth, while Abergavenny was clearly struggling not to snigger.
Michael dragged his thoughts away from the Chancellor and back to the merchants. ‘Your task would be difficult if the killer had remained in Oxford, but how will you find him here, in a town where you have no friends and where no one has any reason to help you?’
‘And even if you do discover a scholar who was in Oxford the day Gonerby died, it will be impossible to prove he is the culprit,’ added Bartholomew. ‘Unless he confesses.’
‘There were many vicious murders that dreadful day,’ added Tynkell softly. ‘Sixty scholars were slaughtered as they tried to go about their lawful business. Sixty!’
‘And how many townsmen?’ demanded Eu. ‘Probably twice that number!’
‘More,’ said Wormynghalle, tugging aggressively on his sheep-head pendant.
‘But the scholars were unarmed,’ insisted Tynkell. ‘Chancellor Brouweon wrote to us, and described dreadful acts of savagery.’
‘If the scholars were unarmed, then why did so many townsmen die?’ asked Abergavenny quietly. ‘The killing – with weapons – was carried out by both sides.’
‘You clearly dislike scholars,’ said Bartholomew to Eu. ‘Yet you travelled to Cambridge in their company. Why?’
‘It made sense,’ explained Abergavenny, resting his hand on Eu’s arm when the spicer looked as if he was about to make a curt response about his travelling arrangements being his own affair. ‘Duraunt was due to inspect Merton’s Cambridge holdings, and three of his colleagues were itching to leave the city, because they fear reprisals. Thus there were four academics, and we were four – if you count Okehamptone the scribe among our number. It seemed safer to make the journey as a single party, given that the highways are so dangerous these days.’
‘I appreciate your predicament,’ said Michael, regarding the three merchants soberly. ‘You have been charged to find a killer and you are determined to carry out your duty. But I must refuse you permission to do it here. The Archbishop of Canterbury is due in a few days, and I cannot have merchants asking inflammatory questions of scholars. You may cause a disturbance here, too.’