Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

‘In honesty … I do not think any necromancer in this city could attempt such a work of maleficium . It would be the work of a great magician. You would have to go to London or York for a man like that.’

Baldwin nodded, and tried to feel comforted.

‘Keeper, you look like a man who’s bitten into a medlar and found it was a sloe!’ the coroner said as they both tramped up the stairsfrom the gaol. ‘What is it? Surely it’s good to know that there are no more fools like him in the town?’

‘Yes. Of course it is.’

‘So why the long face?’

‘Because a man can always walk or ride from one place to another. Just because Langatre knows no one who could attempt sucha business does not mean that someone has not arrived here recently who would be interested in trying it.’

Exeter Castle

Sir Matthew rode back to the castle gate in the middle of the morning, famished. He threw himself from the saddle and leftthe reins dangling for a groom. It was his usual way of returning. If the horse was to be left too long, and ambled back outof the gate, the grooms would learn to regret their laxness, and that was that. For his part, Sir Matthew expected his mento be prepared for him at all times, and when they failed him they paid for it.

The morning’s ride down to the bishop’s house at Clyst St Mary had been enough to make him start to sweat, and he was justthinking that he ought to arrange a fresh hunt when he caught sight of the new servant girl. Strange chit: she’d taken tostaring at him, slightly goggle-eyed, like a fish just pulled from the water. He had wondered whether she might be a littledull-witted, but the child seemed to be all right in all other ways. There was nothing to suggest that she was a cretin, onlythat curious expression on her face.

She was there now, at the top of the stairs to the main hall, just standing and gazing at him. It was disconcerting, havingher up there, but Sir Matthew was no fool, and it was safer for a man to maintain a calm attitude before the people who workedfor him in the castle. Punish those who were disobedient, froward, or felonious, by all means, but it was hard to have a servantgirl beaten for merely looking at him. Actions like that might start to upset the staff. They would grow sulky and petulant,and that was no good to anyone.

He crossed the yard, pulling off his thick riding gloves as he went, and climbed the stone stairs. She waited at the top,as though expectantly, her bright face turned to him the whole while.

It was damned uncomfortable. The girl was staring as though there was something wrong with him. It made him wonder whetherhis cods were untied, or his tunic was rucked up under his belt or something. Damn the child! What was the matter with her? He could feel his face reddening as he came close to her, and the knowledge made his voice harsh and brusque.

‘Do you want me?’ he asked.

She gaped, and then turned away, flushing scarlet, he saw.

The fool had been wool-gathering. Nothing more than that. She didn’t even realise it was him she was staring at. That wasthe meaning of it all: she was in a daydream and hadn’t known she was insulting him. That was a relief, anyway, he told himself. For a moment there … but no. That would be daft.

‘Sir Matthew?’ his steward called quietly from his table near the door.

‘Well?’ he responded testily. ‘I haven’t much time. I need my dinner.’

‘It is only that the good keeper and his friend the coroner were here today. They visited your prisoner. I thought you should know.’

‘Did they?’ Sir Matthew’s face turned dark. ‘What did they want with him?’

‘I took the precaution of having a clerk follow them and listen as best he could. They were talking all about the methodsof having a necromancer fashion figures in the likeness of a man, and have that man murdered by means of it.’

Sir Matthew clenched his jaw. ‘I want that man kept locked up. No one is to see him without my express permission. Ensurethat it is so.’

‘Yes, Sir Matthew.’

‘And now, if you don’t mind, I should like to enjoy my meal!’

Exeter City

Baldwin and Coroner Richard had enjoyed a leisurely meal in a tavern near the castle while they absorbed Langatre’s tale of how anecromancer might summon up a demon.

‘To me, it sounds half-baked. Stodgy in the middle like a poorly cooked pie,’ the coroner said with satisfaction as he finishedhis own meat pie. The crumbs and gravy on his beard were wiped away with a massive hand and brushed onto the table. Some fellinto his quart pot of ale, and he glared at the pot as though it was the pottery’s own fault that it had been polluted. Hefished out a couple of crumbs, then shrugged. ‘Ah well, it’s all going down the same hole! I didn’t like the idea that a manmight confine a demon in a chip of glass or diamond, either.’

‘The whole thing sounds extremely unlikely to me,’ Baldwin said. ‘If it were not for the poor fellow in the dungeon, I shouldtreat the whole thing as a joke, but clearly for Langatre it is deadly earnest.’

‘Aye. If the king and Despenser believe that a man like him has been making models to murder them, Langatre can look forwardto a warm end over a couple of cartloads of faggots. Reminds me of a story I heard …’

Baldwin hastily interrupted. ‘He is in trouble, yes, but we also have the bishop’s paper to find. I am still struck by the matter of that other man dying there. I wish to speak to hiswife. What was her name? Ah, yes, Madam Mucheton.’

‘You’ll almost certainly learn that he fell to a footpad, Baldwin. That message has been taken and it will appear in someplace which is entirely guaranteed to embarrass the good bishop. We can do nothing about it, and nor can he. There’s littlepoint worrying about it.’

‘I agree, but I dislike coincidence when it is so blatant,’ Baldwin said. He sipped a little ale and his face twisted withdistaste. ‘What is this stuff?’

The coroner peered into his pot. ‘Tastes good to me.’

Baldwin gave him a long, sour look. ‘Anyway, I have a feeling that there is something about that first murder that will helpus. The idea that there could be two murders in the same area that were entirely unconnected is fatuous. There must be somethingabout them both.’

‘Perhaps. If you say so. Hmm. Personally, I think that the main thing will be to hold the inquests as soon as possible.’

‘You have them arranged?’

‘I had planned on holding them this afternoon.’

‘Very well. So we have a little time.’

‘To see this woman?’

Baldwin pushed his ale away. It was undrinkable, it was so vinegary. ‘Yes, briefly, and then to go on and speak to the watchmenas well. I want to learn where all the other alleged necromancers are.’

North-East Dartmoor

Simon had been careful all morning to keep his conversation to a minimum. Busse appeared content to sit upon his mount andcontinue on his way with an expression of pinched coldness on his features. Somehow in the last day his face appeared to have lost much of its chubbiness. Where he had beenred-faced and cheerful, now he was pale, almost blue, with a faint pinkness at his cheeks, his head hunched down into hisrobe, his hood up and over his head.

For Simon, the more important of his charges was young Rob, though. The boy was on his feet again now, having argued thateven with the snow he was more comfortable walking because it kept him warmer.

They had found a homestead soon after leaving the moors. The farmer, a young man with two toddlers at his legs, had been suspiciousat first, until he saw the state of Busse and Rob; upon seeing whom, he called urgently to his wife, and helped the threeinto his little yard. They had been able to pause in front of a great fire, drinking hot spiced cider with honey to give themstrength. Although Simon had offered money, the kindly farmer and his wife had refused to accept anything. They both agreedthat it was their duty to help weary and chilled travellers out on the moors, and helpfully provided the three with replenishedwineskins and a loaf to keep them going for the rest of their journey.