The Sempster's Tale (29 page)

James immediately began to fade backward among his fellows while Wyett pointed toward the outer door, saying, “They’re out there. Master Grene sent us inside. Pers found him. He was outside the gate. He…”

Already going for the outer door, Mistress Hercy snapped over her shoulder, “You, stay here,” at the maidservant, who instantly stopped where she was. Frevisse might have been included in that order but chose to think she was not—nor would have obeyed anyway—and followed out the door to find she had slept more than she had supposed. A fading to the darkness over the eastern rooftops would soon be dawn. But more by the clear night’s starlight than otherwise, she and Mistress Hercy made their way down to the yard and toward the black shapes of a few men gathered around the yellow glow of a lantern set on the cobbles just inside the foregate.

Reaching the edge of the lantern light and men, Frevisse saw Master Naylor and Dickon were among them, standing with a household servant beyond Master Grene and Father Tomas kneeling to either side of Brother Michael laid out on his back on the cobbles. The friar’s face was hidden by Father Tomas’ shadow, but the grey friar’s gown twisted around his body made certain who he was. Unless, somehow, it was another Franciscan friar, Frevisse thought. Or someone else in Brother Michael’s robe. Or…

Before she could go further through that scattering of thoughts, Father Tomas sat back on his heels, away from the body, and the lantern light showed not only his own face, tired and stricken, but Brother Michael’s, slack-jawed with death, eyes emptily staring.

Heavy-voiced, Father Tomas said, “He’s gone,” and reached a hand to close the eyes.

The men and both women crossed themselves even as Mistress Hercy asked, “He wasn’t dead yet? Emme said he was.”

Master Grene stood up. “Pers found him in the street and dragged him in the gateway, then ran for help. I think he was dead. Father Tomas…” He moved a hand vaguely at the priest.

Hand still on the eyes to be certain they would stay closed, the priest said slowly, “I said the words. I had no oil or anything, but I did that much.” He dropped his hand back into his lap. “I’ll swear his intent was there. His soul is safe.”

‘But he said nothing?“ Frevisse asked.

Father Tomas shook his head as if too tired for words. It was Master Grene who answered, “Nothing.”

‘But what happened to him?“ Mistress Hercy persisted. ”How’s he dead?“ Because nothing showed in the lantern light of any wound.

‘He looks to have been stabbed,“ Master Grene said. ”In the back. At least that’s where all the blood is.“

‘He wasn’t beaten? There wasn’t an attack on him like yesterday?“ Frevisse asked.

‘Nobody heard any, no.“

‘But how did he come to be outside the gate?“ Frevisse persisted.

‘My lady,“ Master Naylor said, ”should you be out in the night air?“

Frevisse knew when she was being quelled, and Master Naylor was maybe right that questions here and now over the friar’s newly dead body were unseemly. But what was more seemly than trying to find out how he had come to be so suddenly dead? Mistress Hercy, disregarding seemly or unseemly, demanded at the household man standing there, “Pers, it’s all well to say you found him, but why did you let him out the gate at all? And why did you hear nothing of something happening?”

The man gave a rather desperate look at Master Grene while answering, “I didn’t let him out. I wasn’t here. Master Grene was.”

‘I was here a while,“ Master Grene said. ”When I was going the rounds to be sure all was well, I found Pers here more asleep than awake.“

‘Not full asleep,“ Pers defended.

‘It’s all right,“ Master Grene said. ”I told you so then. You’d been at it for the most of two nights. The fault was mine for not setting matters better.“

Father Tomas began to climb to his feet, stiffly like a far older man than he was. Master Grene put a hand under his elbow, steadying him while going on, “I sent him to have a sleep for a while in the back of the shop, saying I’d keep the watch myself. But I never saw Brother Michael, either.”

‘We can’t leave him lying here,“ Father Tomas said. ”We need to get him at least to the church.“

‘We can’t risk that,“ Master Grene said sharply. ”Listen. They’re still at it.“ And that was true enough. The sounds of merry-making in surrounding streets were much lessened, men finally wearing out with the night, but there was still too much of it. ”I’m letting no one out this gate, and not in the dark, surely.“

‘Why did you let Brother Michael out?“ Frevisse asked. And how didn’t you hear the attack on him?”

‘I
didn’t
let him out! That’s the trouble. I didn’t, nor Pers, either, from what he says.“

‘Then how—“ Master Naylor began impatiently.

Master Grene said sharply, “I had to go once to ease myself. There’s a closestool in the rear of the shop. So if someone is tending the board alone, he doesn’t have to leave it. It’s not fifteen feet away.” He pointed toward the shop’s back door. “It took no time at all, but that’s when he had to have let himself out.”

‘He surely opened the gate’s door, rather than the gate itself,“ Frevisse said. ”You didn’t hear it open?“

‘It’s kept well-oiled,“ Master Grene answered.

‘But it’s kept barred, like the gates. Didn’t you see it wasn’t barred anymore?“ Master Naylor asked.

‘We aren’t keeping guard with a great light blazing. Why draw anyone’s heed to here? So, no, in the dark of the passage here I didn’t see the gate was unbarred. Nor did I check it,“ he said, forestalling the next question. ”Why should I?“ he added, irritated, as well he might be. A dead friar at his gate was going to bring questions down on him from Church as well as constable, crowner, and sheriffs before this was done.

‘But you heard nothing else, either? Not here or in the street?“ Frevisse insisted.

‘Nothing.“

‘How was Pers back at the gate after you sent him off?“ Mistress Hercy asked.

Master Grene made a short, unhappy sound. “I started to turn sleepy myself. I fetched him out with hope he’d had enough sleep to take over until at least dawn.” He looked around and said, surprised, “Now it is dawn.”

The passage was still in darkness, but beyond it the yard was indeed grown grey with dawn’s coming. There would soon be no need for lantern light.

‘We can’t leave him lying here,“ Father Tomas said again, his hands clutched together, more to keep from wringing them than in prayer. ”We have to move him.“

‘To the cellar,“ Master Grene said. ”He can be laid out decently there without setting people to worse worry by seeing him the way they will if we put him in the hall. We can set candles around him if you like. Pers,“ he ordered, ”fetch someone and see to it.“

Pers shot away as if glad of any task that took him elsewhere.

‘But why would he have gone out the gate at all?“ Frevisse asked again. ”And why was he stabbed instead of beaten, like before?“

‘Because someone would have heard a beating or any outcry. Even Pers,“ said Master Grene. ”This was done by someone who simply wanted him dead and quickly.“

A momentary silence among them then was broken by Master Naylor saying, “Master Bocking.”

‘Where’s Daved Weir?“ asked Frevisse.

Not sounding certain, Master Grene said, “He’s still in the solar.”

Master Naylor started toward the house. “We’d best see, hadn’t we?”

‘But Brother Michael…“ Father Tomas protested.

‘Stay with him,“ Master Grene ordered, starting after Master Naylor. ”Pers and someone will be here.“

Dickon was already at his father’s heels, and Mistress Hercy and Frevisse followed, hurrying to keep up to the men’s long stride. In the screens passage Mistress Hercy gave curt order in passing to the servants there to be about their business, that breakfast would be wanted soon, whatever else was happening. Her pause let Frevisse go ahead of her so that she was close behind the men when Master Grene opened the door into the lamp-lit solar; and she saw over their shoulders Daved standing in the middle of the room, his arms around Anne and hers around him and, “Damn all!” Master Grene burst out. “In hell’s teeth, what are you doing free, Daved?”

‘Raulyn, let him escape. Please,“ Anne pleaded, holding tighter to Daved. ”Before Brother Michael comes back.“

‘Brother Michael is dead.“ Master Grene crossed to his desk and leaned on it, head hanging. ”He’s dead, and you’re loosed, and so it can be said you did it.“

‘No!“ Anne said fiercely. ”I freed Daved and only now!“

Gently loosening Anne from him but keeping her close with an arm around her, Daved asked, “How is he dead?”

‘Stabbed from behind,“ Master Grene answered bluntly. ”Not here. Outside the gate. In the street.“

‘What was he doing there?“ Daved asked with apparent surprise.

‘Leaving, I suppose. Hoping to slip through the streets and darkness back to Grey Friars. Or to find some of the bishop’s officers and bring them here to take you under guard. I don’t know.“

Master Naylor asked at Daved, “He left you here unwatched?”

‘Where was I going to go, bound hand and foot there?“ Daved jerked his head toward a heavy wooden chair to one side of the room, a sprawl of ropes on the floor beside it. ”He thought he could safely leave me for a time, I suppose.“

The ropes had been cut, Frevisse noted, and going forward past Master Naylor, she asked, “Where did you get the knife to cut the ropes, Mistress Blakhall?”

Anne, still with one arm around Daved, said defiantly, “His daggers are there.” She pointed to the desk where they did still lay from yesterday. “I used one.”

Master Naylor picked up one, then the other, taking a long look at both in the sinking lamplight before saying at the second one, “There’s blood on the blade.”

‘I cut a man in the fight yesterday,“ Daved said. And added dryly, ”I’ve not had chance to clean it yet.“

As Master Naylor set the dagger down, Frevisse asked, “How long ago did Brother Michael leave? And why?”