Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

‘What would you do, then?’ Simon asked.

‘Why not bring her to the cathedral with us? Ask the bishop whether he can do something to cure her?’ Baldwin said.

‘You are joking!’ Coroner Richard said. ‘Think what harm she could do in the church with the congregation there.’

‘We could do her a great deal of good, with any fortune,’ Baldwin said harshly. ‘The bishop should be able to drive out herdemons and save her. After all, even if she did kill the servant, she cannot be held guilty. Remove the demon and see whethershe could have done it on her own.’

Coroner Richard drained his cup, then leaned back and considered Baldwin, chewing the last of the bread ruminatively. It wasa bizarre idea, but no worse than flogging the girl. And he couldn’t help but remember how small and thin and frail she hadlooked when she had been knocked down. Little more than a child in reality. He swallowed and decided.

‘Well, if you’re serious, we’d best go to the castle and tell the sheriff that we want to try it.’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin said. And his eyes went to Rob.

At least it was only a short walk to the castle. But it was ruddy freezing, Rob told himself bitterly. The weather was miserable,too. Not wet, but it was surely colder than a witch’s tits.

‘Hi, boy. You getting the keeper’s breakfast?’

He looked up to see the beadle, Elias. ‘We’ve eaten,’ he snarled. ‘I’m just off to the gaol.’

Elias shrugged as Rob explained about the girl. ‘Your master and his friends must be mad. Easier to just have her hanged. If there’s a demon inside her, that’d let it out fast enough!’

Rob nodded as he carried on his way. Yeah, it would be better. At least he could have stayed by the fire then, rather thantrudging through the cold and damp to the castle.

Waking, he looked about him sadly.

Walter had bought this place only a few years ago. At the time he had thought that his life was going to change, as he hadrepeatedly told Robinet over the last days until his death. Well, now it had changed.

Thinking about that sad little body lying before the door in Langatre’s undercroft made him feel the sadness again. That manhad been his only real friend for many years. When Robinet arrived in Exeter, the two of them had immediately felt the bondbetween them renewed, as though they had never parted. And, now they were parted for ever.

He left the place with a few coins from the purse on the window-ledge, walked the hundred or so yards to Cooks’ Row, keepinga wary eye open for anyone who showed a little too much interest in him, and ordered himself a good meat pie. Eating it slowly, he went round the back to the littlealehouse at the corner of two alleys. It was a rowdy place even at this time in the morning, and he knew that no one in therewould be looking for him. The only people who could be on his tail would stand out too distinctly in here. It was the sortof place he could enjoy a form of anonymity.

Where had the murderous bastard got to? He had thought he could get some answers from Michael, but the interference of thatpathetic imitation sorcerer had put paid to that. If he’d been able, he could have silenced Langatre, but there was no tellingwhat Ivo would do while he was making the man shut up. Anyone with a stout staff was a threat to be considered when his loyaltywas in doubt. And there was certainly no love between him and Ivo. No, none.

Where was John? With any luck he had fallen into a ditch and his decomposed remains would be found late in the summer. Butthere was no way to tell whether he was dead or not. Better to assume he was still alive for now, and find him. There wasnothing he wanted more than to see John’s head on a spike outside the city wall as a warning to all those who dared kill hisfriends.

If he didn’t know where John was, perhaps the Watch had been luckier. A beadle could have stumbled over his corpse in thenight. And if he hadn’t, a beadle could maybe tell him what the city’s officers had been doing overnight to hunt the bastarddown.

He drained his cup and left the alehouse quietly by the little side door. Soon he was walking down the alley where Ivo andhis mother lived, and when he came to it he stood in a doorway some distance away and surveyed the street, making sure thatthe measly little prickle hadn’t thought to protect himself with a couple of roughs who would look for him in case he returned again.

No. There was nothing. Confident that the alley itself held no threat to him, he sauntered to the door and knocked.

It opened quickly, and Ivo stood gaping before him. A hand planted firmly on his breast gave him the hint, and he walked backwards,still silent.

When the door was shut, Ivo’s mother, who had been huddled by the fire, turned and scowled. ‘What do you want here?’

‘Mother, I only want to learn what happened yesterday. Ivo? Did they get him?’

‘No. After you disappeared we spent the afternoon searching high and low for him, but none of us had any luck. Half the timethe coroner seemed to want us to find you more than the stranger.’

‘Fortunately no one did, though. What are they going to do today?’

‘They’re not. They’re fetching a demented girl to take to the bishop to see if he can exorcise her demons.’

‘That would be worth seeing.’

Ivo nodded. He had seen plenty of exorcisms in his time. The shrieking and screaming was quite entertaining in its own way. As good as a hanging. This way, perhaps they’d have the exorcism and then the hanging later, both from the same girl. He wasso taken up with his thoughts for a moment or two that he didn’t notice the man’s expression change suddenly.

‘What day is it?’

Ivo shot a look at his mother. ‘St Catherine’s Day?’

All knew of St Catherine of Alexandria. The noblewoman who refused to marry the emperor of Rome and defended her Christian faith even when they threatened to kill her on the wheel. She had disputed her religion with fifty philosophersand won, and had stood up for …

Robinet stood as the realisation struck.

‘We must get to the cathedral!’

Exeter Cathedral

Baldwin and Simon had a leisurely walk to the cathedral after their breakfast. Already the grounds before the great church had startedto fill with city folk ready to join the Sabbath celebrations.

Practically every day of the year had its own saint to revere, and Baldwin knew that keeping abreast of which was due forhonour on any day was a task that exercised some of the finest minds in Christendom. At the cathedral there was a good manwho was paid a gallon of wine to call out all the different relics that were held there on the Monday after Ascension eachyear. It was a task that demanded a degree of perseverance on the part of the annueller concerned, calling out the piece of Mary’s pillow, the splinter of the True Cross, the oil of St Catherine and all the other bits and pieces that made up thegreat treasury owned by the cathedral. The number of relics made Exeter a place of pilgrimage for people from all over thewest country.

All too soon Baldwin saw the first of the black-robed canons appearing in his doorway as the bells began to ring, and thenall the houses in Canon’s Row disgorged their occupants. Entire households stood in the road, with the processions being decided by rank and authority: canon first, then vicars, annuellers, novices, servants, all clad in theirrobes ready for the service. They stepped over the open sewer that ran between their houses and the cemetery, and began tocross the grassy plain. A hog and two horses moved out of their way as the men passed around the new building work, avoidingthe great stones lying all about, and making their way to the southern entrance. Only when all the choir had already entereddid the rest of the congregation follow.