Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

He was in a quandary. There was no time now … it was growing dark, and his stomach was already querulously rumbling.

The aspirant abbot set his jaw, his mouth pursed, and hurried down the lane to the abbot’s gatehouse.

‘Keeper, I have just been told that a girl has been locked in a hayloft,’ he declared as he saw the porter at the gate. Hequickly explained what he had heard, before continuing on his way to the bishop.

The porter looked about him at the darkening lanes. ‘Can’t do anything now,’ he said, and slammed the gate shut.

There would be time tomorrow. He’d tell the nearest watchman as soon as he reopened the gate in the morning.

Exeter Castle

Baldwin and Simon waited while the sheriff took his leave of his wife, and then led the way outside, the coroner taking upthe rear, reluctant as ever to leave a still-filled table.

‘Now, Sir Matthew, I have some questions for you on this other matter,’ Baldwin said when they were out of earshot of anyidle ears.

‘What is that?’

‘I am drawn to conclude that you know more than you have said about the arrival in the city of a necromancer.’

‘Me?’ Matthew was stunned. ‘All I know is that I had a writ asking me to help the king in his investigations, and I did what I could to aid him.’

‘You did? What did you do, exactly? You arrested a man who could not conceivably have had anything to do with affairs in Coventry,and had him held in your gaol for a little over a night. I do not see how that would have materially assisted the king.’

‘He was a necromancer. He might have known something.’

Baldwin eyed him with contempt. ‘You expect me to believe that? You seriously believe that Despenser and the king himselfwould be impressed with your bringing forward a benighted soul all the way from Exeter, when it was clear enough that he knewnothing about the affair? That he could have known nothing?’

‘If there was time for the messenger to arrive here from Coventry, after he had already travelled all the way to the king,received his writ, and made his way all the way here, there was plenty of time for a foul necromancer to have made his wayhere from Coventry. The man Langatre could have had information that was useful. It was right to arrest him.’

Baldwin was still. ‘I had not considered that — are you saying that the very same messenger came here after Coventry?’

‘Yes. The man James was the same man who took news of the attempt on the king’s life to the king.’

‘What is it, Baldwin?’ Simon asked. ‘You can see something, can’t you?’

‘Only this: if the man who brought the message here was the same one as was in Coventry, then we have a reason why someonemight have killed him. He could have seen the necromancer and any confederates in Coventry, couldn’t he? If one of the assassinshad made his way here, thinking himself secure from any agents of the king, how would he feel were he to suddenly be confrontedby one of the men who had seen him there?’

‘And the carver of antlers?’

‘Perhaps this fellow from Coventry thought he took too much interest in him?’

‘All this supposes that there is someone here from Coventry,’ Coroner Richard said. ‘We have no proof of that as yet.’

‘No, we have no proof, but we have had a man break into Langatre’s house and rob him of some tools used by necromancers. Sheriff, I would be grateful if you could have your clerk give instructions to all the gate porters to try to recall whether they haveadmitted a man from Coventry or somewhere nearby in the last month.’

‘Of course.’

It was Simon who shook his head doubtfully. ‘That is another reason why this Mucheton could have been killed.’

‘Why?’ the sheriff demanded.

‘Because if there is someone manufacturing dolls in the city with the intention of stabbing them to kill people, what wouldhe use to stab them? A white bone pin might appeal to some men.’

‘ Maleficium! ’ the coroner breathed.

‘It would explain the black cat seen at the first murder, and the strange disappearing man at the second,’ Simon said.

‘A bite of strong cheese or too much strong ale would explain them just as well,’ Baldwin said scathingly.

‘So you may believe,’ Sir Matthew said, ‘but I have heard that Sir Richard de Sowe was killed by this necromancer in Coventry. A doll was made, and a little lead pin thrust into his head killed him. These necromancers are very mighty, Sir Baldwin. And I have heard that they can do all they wish with the merest glance at a man. The demons they carry about with them can dotheir will …’

‘You think so?’ Baldwin asked sarcastically. ‘And I suppose they carry these demons in rings on their fingers?’

‘That is what they say.’

‘I wonder, do they have especially strong fingers?’

Sir Matthew was puzzled. ‘What?’

‘Well, you know how heavy a falcon is. If you were to walk about all day with a falcon on your wrist, would not your arm growtired? Yet a demon is apparently so light that it can rest on a finger, and not make the magician exhausted. Are they so smallthat they can weigh so little? And if so small, do they truly have any power? Ptchah! This is nonsense, all of it. I believein corporeal bodies causing harm. The antler-carver Mucheton was murdered by a man with a knife; the messenger was murderedby a man with a knife and another, perhaps, with a cord; the servant of Langatre was killed by a cord; Walter of Hanlegh was murdered with a knife. All weapons which are used by men, not by mysticaland magical creatures. We should look for human agents here, not ghosts and demons!’

Exeter City

Art hurried with a growing sense of trepidation. He had been involved on the fringes of violence and outlawry for some years,but this was the first time he had witnessed near-death. Hob had never been a friend of his … or anyone else for thatmatter. He just happened to be a strong man in a team who admired strength and little else. Yet he had been destroyed in amoment by this man, this stranger. And now they were hurrying towards a place where there would probably be another fight. It made him anxious, and his nervousness was making him stumble.

‘Keep up, boy! Is this the alley?’

‘Yes. Yes, this is the one.’

‘He said it was the third door. Come! You can knock for me.’

Art was reluctant to get any further involved. He wanted nothing more to do with all this — but the man was compelling. Arthad the feeling that if he wasn’t careful, it would be him being held by the chin, a sharp knife point at his throat. ‘Whatdo you want me to do? I don’t know who lives here!’

‘The lad in the tavern said that if anyone would know where the necromancer had gone, they would be here. Let’s find out.’

Art stood at the door and hunched his shoulders against the cold. Perhaps it was him, but just now he felt as though the temperaturein the alley had dropped almost to freezing. He pulled his jack closer about his chest, gripped it in a tight fist, and knocked.

‘Do it again!’

Art complied. While the knife was held in the man’s fist, he was unwilling to antagonise him. At last, after a third boutof knocking, Art heard steps. They were hesitant, ponderous, shuffling steps, and Art heard them come almost to the door beforea thin little voice called out, ‘Who is it? What do you want?’

‘Mistress, I need a room. Do you know where a man may rest the night?’

‘Go find an inn. There are rooms aplenty in them.’

‘No — I don’t want to be in a place like that. I need somewhere quieter.’

The bar was lifted, and then the door opened a crack. Immediately Art felt himself propelled forward, into the old timbers,and then he was through and sprawling on the dirt floor, while his companion slammed the door behind them, barred it, andthen kicked the knife from the old woman’s hand.