Bartholomew laughed, although he knew the Vice-Chancellor had not been joking.
‘I did not hire a Girard,’ put in Aynton. ‘My proxy was Bruges the Fleming from King’s Hall. But after you said such an arrangement smacked of cowardice, Brother, I released him from my service. I do not want to earn the contempt of townsfolk or of fellow scholars.’
‘His name is Bruges, you say?’ asked de Wetherset keenly.
‘Yes, but you are too late to snag him for yourself,’ said Aynton apologetically. ‘Theophilis overheard me talking to him, and hired him on the spot. He told me the University would need to keep some of its officials back, if the Chancellor, the Vice-Chancellor, the Commissary and the Senior Proctor are obliged to go and fight the French.’
‘You see, Brother?’ murmured Bartholomew. ‘You are reckless to trust Theophilis – he has ambitions to rule the University all on his own.’
Michael ignored him. ‘How well did you know these Girard men?’
‘We met them twice,’ replied Heltisle. ‘Once to discuss the matter, and once to hand over the money we agreed to pay.’
He named the sum, and Bartholomew felt his jaw drop. It was a fortune.
‘We understand one of the children survived,’ said de Wetherset. ‘Perhaps you would see that the money stays with her, Brother. We had a contract with her kin, and it is hardly her fault that they are no longer in a position to honour it.’
‘That is generous,’ said Michael suspiciously.
‘It is,’ agreed Heltisle, and smiled craftily. ‘Perhaps word of our largesse will spread, and another lunatic will offer us his sword.’
‘No,’ said de Wetherset sharply. ‘It is not self-interest that guides us. The truth is that I feel sorry for the girl – parents, aunt, uncle and brother, all dead. It is a heavy burden to bear.’
Heltisle retorted that he was a sentimental fool, and an ill-tempered spat followed, with Aynton struggling to mediate. While they bickered, Bartholomew pulled Michael to one side and spoke in an undertone.
‘Do you think someone heard what the Girards were paid and decided to steal it? There are plenty who would kill for a fraction of that amount.’
‘We shall bear it in mind,’ Michael whispered back. ‘But why would the Girards offer to bear arms against their countrymen? Or did they take the money with no intention of honouring the arrangement? After all, it cannot be cheap to stay in hiding, so any means of gaining a quick fortune …’
‘Perhaps we should include de Wetherset and Heltisle on our list of murder suspects – they realised the Girards aimed to cheat them and took revenge.’
‘If they are capable of incinerating an entire family, they would not be hiring proxies to go to war on their behalf – they would be itching to join the slaughter in person.’
Bartholomew supposed that was true, although he decided to watch both scholars carefully until their innocence was proven. He was about to say so, when there was a knock on the door and two men were shown in bearing missives for the Chancellor’s attention. Michael’s jaw dropped when he saw the couriers’ clothes.
‘Those are beadles’ uniforms!’ he breathed, shocked. ‘How dare you wear–’
‘These are a couple of the new recruits Heltisle has hired,’ explained de Wetherset. ‘To protect us against the growing aggression of the town.’
Michael gaped at him. It was the Senior Proctor’s prerogative to choose beadles, and he took the duty seriously. They were no longer a ragtag band of louts who could gain employment nowhere else, noted for drunkenness and a love of bribes, but professionals, who were paid a decent wage and were treated with respect. They were picked for their ability to use reason rather than force, although they were reliable fighters in a crisis. Heltisle’s men were surly giants, who looked as though they would rather start a fight than stop one.
‘If you thought we needed more men, you should have told me,’ said Michael between gritted teeth. ‘I would have been more than happy to–’
‘I assumed you would not mind,’ said Heltisle slyly. ‘After all, you regularly relieve de Wetherset of the duties that go with his office, so I thought you would not object to me doing the same to you.’
‘I hardly think–’ began Michael indignantly.
‘I took on a dozen,’ interrupted Heltisle, enjoying the monk’s growing outrage. ‘All good fellows who will make townsmen think twice about crossing us.’
‘And how will you pay for them?’ demanded Michael curtly. ‘Because it will not be out of the Senior Proctor’s budget.’
‘We shall use the Destitute Scholars’ Fund,’ replied Heltisle, and shrugged when Michael regarded him in disbelief. ‘It is only penniless low-borns who need it, and I do not want them here anyway.’
‘These “penniless low-borns” are often our best thinkers,’ said Bartholomew quietly. ‘Our University will be a poorer place without them.’
‘Rubbish,’ stated Heltisle contemptuously, and turned back to Michael, indicating the new beadles as he did so. ‘My recruits are a cut above the weaklings you favour, and will be a credit to the University.’
‘I hope you are right,’ said Michael tightly. ‘Because any inadequacies on their part will fall at your door, not mine.’
‘No, all beadles are your responsibility,’ said Heltisle sweetly. ‘And there is another thing: a letter arrived from the Bishop this morning. It was addressed to you, but I assumed it was really meant for the Chancellor, so I opened it.’
Michael struggled not to give him the satisfaction of losing his temper. ‘How very uncouth. I would never stoop to such uncivilised antics.’
This was a downright lie, as he stole missives addressed to the triumvirate on a daily basis. Grinning, Heltisle produced the document in question. It was thick with filth, so he had wrapped it in a rag to protect his hands.
‘It fell in a cowpat,’ he explained gloatingly. ‘Are you not going to take it and see what it says?’
‘I will tell you, Brother,’ said Aynton, shooting the Vice-Chancellor an admonishing look for his childishness. ‘It is about a field in Girton. The Bishop owns it, but he wants to transfer the title to St Andrew’s Church.’
It was Michael’s turn to grin. ‘You are right, Heltisle – the Bishop would rather the Chancellor sorted it out. Unfortunately, the deeds pertaining to that piece of land are so complex that they will take weeks to unravel. I recommend he delegates the matter to a deputy. You, for example.’
He bowed and sailed out. As Bartholomew turned to follow, he heard de Wetherset remark that perhaps he had better do as the Senior Proctor suggested, as a Chancellor could not afford to waste time on trivialities. He did not catch Heltisle’s reply, but he did hear Aynton rebuke him for foul language.
* * *
Out on the street, Michael’s temper broke, and he railed furiously about Heltisle’s effrontery. Bartholomew let him rant, knowing he would feel better for it. The tirade might have gone on longer, but they bumped into Theophilis, who had been in the Gilbertine Priory, giving a lecture on his Calendarium. Michael was far too enraged for normal conversation, so Bartholomew took the opportunity to ask the Junior Proctor about the proxy he had snapped up when Aynton had decided against using one.
‘Bruges the Fleming.’ Theophilis spoke so silkily that Bartholomew’s skin crawled. ‘I hired him for you, Brother. The University will need strong leaders if lots of us are called to fight, and you are the only man I trust to watch our interests while I am away.’
‘You are kind, Theophilis,’ said Michael. ‘But as a monk in major holy orders, I am exempt from the call to arms. I do not need a proxy.’