The Medieval Murderers - Hill of Bones

Godfrey tipped the contents of a leather purse into his own palm and thrust it out. The man whistled, as well he might for it would take him months to earn as much.

‘Half now, the other half when the job’s done.’

‘And what’s the job? You want me to kill a man for that?’ He sounded as if he wouldn’t have objected even to a spot of murder for that size of a purse.

Godfrey grinned. ‘No, nothing like that. I just want to play a little jest on a friend of mine. Tonight he’s going up to Solsbury Hill. You know it?’

The actor nodded.

‘There’s some new prophet camped up there. You know the type, says the world is going to end in thirty days.’

The man rolled his eyes and grimaced.

‘I’ve been teasing my friend that this hill is haunted by the ghosts of the wild men and outlaws who’ve lived there. So what I thought was, you could dress as a wild man and leap out at him, give him a bit of a fright.’

‘I could dress up as an outlaw, that’d be easier,’ the actor said.

‘No,’ Godfrey said hastily. ‘It must be a wild man. It’s a private jest, you understand. His wife calls him her wild man.’

The player grinned. ‘Gets a bit carried away in the bedchamber, does he?’

‘Something like that,’ Godfrey agreed. ‘Here, see, I have a costume already for you.’ He opened a sack and showed the actor the bundle inside. ‘What do you say?’

The proffered coins disappeared into the player’s scrip in less time than it takes for a hound to swallow a piece of meat. Hands were shaken and pressed to the market cross to seal the bargain, and they parted, both men grinning to themselves at their good fortune.

Godfrey watched the player amble off in the direction of the nearest inn, clutching the sack. He only hoped the actor wouldn’t get too drunk and forget to turn up, but he was counting on the man’s greed for the other half of the purse.

Though he said so himself, the costume had been a masterstroke: linen cloth, covered in pitch to which had been stuck frazzled hemp, so that the wearer would appear as a shaggy monster covered in long hair from head to foot. The final addition was a set of light chains that would clank whenever the wearer moved. It was identical to the now infamous costume Henry’s grandfather Charles had worn at a ball, a costume that had nearly cost the French King his life.

Henry was teetering on the very brink of madness; the appearance of his grandfather would be just the little push he needed to send him over the edge of sanity, and as he fled in terror, over the edge of the hill too, with a dagger between his ribs. King Charles had miraculously survived his attempted assassination. Godfrey would make quite sure his grandson would not be so lucky.

Ursula looked somewhat less appealing in the daylight than she had three nights ago in the dark. Her swollen, red-rimmed eyes didn’t help, but nevertheless there was something about the way she was frantically wringing her hands and gazing up so helplessly at William that made him long to kiss her again. But kissing was evidently the last thing on the girl’s mind.

‘My father has discovered I was out all night. The watchman on the city gate told him he’d seen me go out and what time I returned. Father is furious. He says my reputation is ruined. He’s going to send me to a nunnery. He means it. But I can’t be walled up in one of those places for the rest of my life. I won’t! I’d go mad. I’d kill myself!’ She lifted her chin with a flash of her old spirit. ‘That’s why I’ve run away.’

William stared distractedly at her. ‘Run away. Where will you go? Have you friends who-’

‘Here. I’ve run away here to you. I’m going to stay with you, become one of your disciples. And…’ she hesitated, blushing, ‘… when we are married, then-’

‘Married!’ William repeated aghast.

‘Of course we will be married. Did you think I wouldn’t consent to be your wife? You said that I was chosen to be your consort. You said our lovemaking would create the divine energy that would transform the world, like the alchemist can turn lead into gold.’ She beamed at him. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t accept you as my husband? How modest you are.’

For a moment, William was at a loss for words, then he recovered himself. ‘What… what about your father – does he know this is where you were that night?’

‘He questioned the stable boy and the snivelling little sneak told him everything.’

William groaned. The last thing he needed tonight was some irate father storming up the hill to retrieve his runaway daughter and interrupting the exorcism. That would ruin everything. If he didn’t get his hands on the mirror tonight, he’d never get another chance, for the man would hardly be likely to return, not if some merchant arrived and accused him of seducing the girl.

‘Ursula, you can’t stay here. This is the first place your father will look when he finds you missing and you don’t want him discovering you here and dragging you straight off to that nunnery.’

‘But where can I go? I can’t go back home.’ She was struggling to hold back the tears.

William suddenly saw that she was no wanton seductress, only a scared little girl. A spasm of guilt flickered through him, but it passed almost before he recognised it.

‘Do you have an aunt or uncle, a cousin perhaps, in some neighbouring town?’

‘My grandmother lives in Saltford, but I can’t go there. She’s more strict than my father. She’d take me straight to the nunnery herself, probably an even worse one.’

William frowned, thinking rapidly. ‘If I send Martin to your father’s house with a message to say you are with your grandmother that will give you time to get away.’

And, he thought, stop the old man charging up here, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, he didn’t care where the girl’s father searched, he would be on his way to a port with that mirror.

Ursula’s fearful expression melted away and, smiling, she held out her hand to him. ‘Then I can stay here.’

‘No!’ The word burst out of William more forcibly than he had intended.

Ursula’s eyes opened wide in alarm.

William tried to speak more calmly. ‘Martin’s message will buy you only a night and, perhaps a day, at the most. Sooner or later your father is bound to find out you are not with your grandmother and come searching up here. Do you have money with you?’

The abrupt question seemed to startle her. ‘A… a little and my jewels.’

At least that was something, William thought. Best to send her to a city where she could easily lose herself among the crowd and where the arrival of a girl travelling alone would pass unremarked and unremembered.

‘You must ride to Bristol, Ursula. There, take lodgings at an inn and wait for me.’

Ursula looked stricken. ‘But I’ve been there only once with my parents. I can’t travel alone. You have to come with me!’

‘There are many troubled souls coming to see me tonight. I must stay to help them, but in a day or two my work here will be over and I will follow you. There is a woman in the city who sells spices in the market place near the cross. Everyone knows her. Goes by the name of Pavia. I will leave word with her when I’ve arrived and tell you where to meet me.’

‘But why-’

He pressed his fingers gently to her soft hot lips. He had to get rid of her, and quickly.

‘Listen to me, Ursula. I am Serkan the prophet and God has chosen you to be my consort. No power on earth will be able to separate us. He will watch over you until I am at your side once more.’ He took both her hands in his and lifted them to his chest. ‘You believe in me, Ursula, don’t you? You have faith in me? I need to know you do not doubt me or my powers. I must know that you believe!’