15 The Sempster's Tale

by Frazer, Margaret

  Frevisse, understanding his challenge, met it straight on. “Even if I believed in ritual killings of Christian children by Jews, I doubt you’re fool enough to do it here in London, nor have I heard any reason why you’d want Hal dead. Therefore, I have no reason to lay his murder on you. You might well have killed Brother Michael. He was your deadly foe. But the manner of his killing does not set well with you having done it. And you were bound and helpless when he died and therefore are clear of it that way, too.”

  ‘Which settles the likelihood of my being a murderer. What of my being a Jew?“

  ‘I’ve told you I’ve no quarrel with you because of that, whatever the Inquisition claims to the contrary. That you’re here at all is flat against England’s law, and that is another matter, but given the misguidance and corruption of England’s laws these past years and the chaos into which London is presently fallen because of it, I do not find myself at all moved toward denouncing you on that front, either.“

  ‘And the matter between Mistress Blakhall and myself?“

  Frevisse held silent, considering her answer before finally saying, “It’s not for me to judge. Lest I be judged.”

  Something in her answers must have satisfied him, because he said, “It wasn’t Mistress Blakhall who cut me loose.”

  ‘Daved!“ Anne protested.

  He slipped a small knife from the inside of his left sleeve and held it out for Frevisse to take. It was small, hardly more than the length of a man’s finger and some of that was the bone hilt, but the blade looked to be sharp enough.

  ‘I set to work to win free as soon as the friar left me,“ Daved said. ”I’d only just finished when Mistress Blakhall came in.“

  Frevisse gave back the knife. “Those ropes weren’t thin. It would have taken a lengthy time with a blade that small to cut yourself free, supposing you could reach the knife or ropes at all.”

  ‘There are ways to keep from being tied too tightly,“ Daved answered evenly. ”Also a skill to tying men so they can’t move at all. I have the first skill. Your Master Naylor does not have the second. So the business was not so hard as it might have been.“

  ‘Show me your wrists.“

  Daved pushed his doublet and shirt sleeve up one arm, then the other, and held them out. On his left forearm was strapped a small sheath, the knife in it again—Frevisse had not seen him return it—and both his wrists were the scraped-raw of someone who had twisted hard against binding ropes. Anne gave a low gasp, but Frevisse only nodded acceptance of what she saw. She did not think he was a man who would struggle without purpose. If he had fought the ropes that hard, it was because he had a chance of freeing himself just as he had said. But, “Why tell me?”

  Pulling down his sleeves, Daved said readily, “Because if we are able to learn better when the friar was killed, then maybe we can learn who was not where they should have been then and therefore could have done it.” He looked at Father Tomas. “Father, where did you spend the night?”

  The priest looked startled to be suddenly included in their talk. “I slept,” he said. “All the night.”

  ‘Where?“ Frevisse pressed.

  ‘In the chamber above the screens passage.“

  ‘There’s a small room there behind the minstrel gallery,“ Daved said. ”It’s where my uncle and I have slept since Mistress Hercy has the guest chamber. We shared it with Raulyn two nights ago. I suppose he was there last night, too.“

  ‘He settled to bed when I did,“ Father Tomas said.

  ‘Did Brother Michael come there at all last night, Father?“ Frevisse asked.

  ‘No. Unless so quietly I never woke, and I think I would have. I did not sleep that well. I knew when Master Grene went out and came back.“

  ‘When was that?“ asked Daved.

  ‘I do not know the times, only that I was asleep between them.“

  ‘He went more than once?“ Daved prompted.

  ‘Twice, yes. I doubt he slept much at all.“

  ‘Was he gone long?“ Frevisse asked.

  ‘I slept and half-slept the while. I could not truly say for how long he went.“

  ‘You couldn’t guess at what times he left?“ Frevisse prodded. ”Or when he came back?“

  ‘The watch has not called the hours for two nights now,“ Father Tomas pointed out.

  ‘And the chamber’s one window is small and faces west,“ Daved said. ”So there’s not even much help of star-shift or moonlight.“

  ‘That is the way of it, yes,“ Father Tomas said, sounding grateful for the help. ”I know he was there when someone came to tell him Brother Michael had been found.“

  ‘Can we go somewhere other than here?“ Anne asked suddenly.

  Daved put an arm around her and drew her to his side, saying, “We can go up, yes. There’s no more we need do here.”

  But as Daved led Anne away, Father Tomas did not move from where he stood beyond Brother Michael’s body; and when Frevisse looked questioningly at him, he said, “Someone should be here with him. To pray for him.”

  Something under his words said he thought Frevisse should stay, too, but she only gave him a short nod before following Anne and Daved away to the stairs. The lesser shadows of the screens passage were welcome after the cellar, but Frevisse found Daved alone there and asked, “Where’s Mistress Blakhall gone?”

  He bent his head toward the other stairs. “To find something to put on my wrists.”

  Watching his face, she said, “She cares most deeply for you.”

  ‘As I care for her,“ he answered steadily back.

  ‘She can’t go with you when you leave.“

  ‘It would be her death to do so, yes.“

  ‘So when all is done, you’ll go free and clear, back to whatever else is your life, and she’ll be left to her shame.“

  ‘You misguess,“ Daved said, his gaze and voice level. ”Whatever comes, I’ll never be ’free and clear‘ of our love. No more than I would be clear of an inward wound that never heals.“

  ‘You see love as a wound?“

  ‘Where the joys of it are brief and rare, and the pain often and long, yes. Love then is a wound. But rather that wound than that our love had never been.“

  ‘You’ll not dare return to England after this. She’ll be left alone with both her inward pain and shame.“

  Daved’s own pain showed then in the tightened twist of his mouth, as if Anne’s pain added to his was more than he could hide; but he met Frevisse’s challenge with his own, saying, “Have you never had in your life an outward shame worth the cost of holding to an inward truth? Haven’t you ever chosen the pain and cost of holding to that truth because to deny it would have corrupted your very soul?”

  Silent, Frevisse held his gaze with her own for a long moment, letting him read there what he could, then said, “You’re far more than a merchant, aren’t you?”

  His face lighted with one of his sudden smiles. “Aren’t we all far more than only our outward seeming? You are, aren’t you?”

  That was another question she would not directly answer but said instead, “Show me the stairs to this upper chamber where you and your uncle slept.”

  He pointed past her right shoulder. “It’s there.”

  She turned and saw a narrow gap in the wall easily missed in the passage’s half-light. Closer look showed it gave onto a steep upward stairs so narrow a man would have to twist a little sideways to clear the walls as he went up or down. Frevisse did not favor trying them herself and settled for asking, “There’s no other way from the chamber than this?”

  ‘Only the window that only a child could use.“

  ‘Is a light kept along here at night?“

  ‘No.“

  ‘In the hall itself?“

  ‘Not last night. Master Grene thought a darkened house less likely to draw unwanted eyes. The shutters were left open, though, for what light might come in.“

  That meant that someone at the foot of these stairs would have been alm
ost certain of going unseen while waiting to be sure the way was clear to the parlor or wherever else he might want to go unnoted.

  ‘Where was the household sleeping if no one was in the hall?“

  ‘They’ve been all together in the kitchen these past two nights. To keep each other’s courage up, and because shifting the guards is easier if everyone is in the same place.“

  At the passage’s far end the outer door opened, letting in morning light and Master Naylor with Dickon and the man Pers close behind him. Frevisse went toward them, meeting them at the doorway into the hall where sight of the table being cleared by two maidservants awoke her to her own hunger, and with a small sign to Master Naylor to follow she went that way. There was only bread and cheese and ale, and the portions the maids gave her and Master Naylor and Daved were small, with one of the maids giving a laughing shake of her head at Dickon when he put out a hopeful hand.

  ‘You’ve had yours,“ she said.

  Frevisse’s own thought, watching her set down the bread knife, was that it was a pity there was no way to compare the dagger-thrusts into Brother Michael with those that had killed Hal, to tell if they had maybe been made by the same weapon.

  One of the maids, handing a cut of cheese to Daved, asked him, “So why was the friar angry at you, and where’s Master Bocking gone?”

  That she could ask those questions was some assurance the household still mostly did not know exactly what had passed or why. And Daved smiled warmly and said easily, “Goodly questions to which, alas, I cannot make goodly answers. My uncle is gone his own way, the friar is beyond answering for himself, and I cannot.”

  Before the maid could take it further, Frevisse, with her hunger a little quieted by a few bites of food, said, “Pers, how did you come to find Brother Michael outside the gate? Did you hear him? Did he make a sound or was it something else?”

  ‘It wasn’t anything, my lady,“ Pers said. ”It was just it was come light enough I saw the door in the gate wasn’t barred anymore. That’s not right, I thought.“

  ‘Then he went and opened it, like a dullard,“ one of the maids said. ”There could have been anybody out there.“

  ‘I listened first, didn’t I?“ Pers returned hotly. ”I didn’t heat anything. If someone had been wanting to come in, they would have by then, the door already being unbarred. Right?“ he demanded of Master Naylor.

  Master Naylor granted that with a small nod, less from certainty, Frevisse guessed, than to keep Pers talking. Which Pers did, going on, “So I looked out and saw the friar lying there. I didn’t know it was the friar right off. There wasn’t that much light yet. But I could see it was someone and in a long gown, so I guessed it wasn’t one of the rebels.” He was warming to the chance to talk about it and be listened to. “I couldn’t hear any trouble nearby, so I went out, and that’s when I saw it was the friar, and I thought he was dead, but I couldn’t leave him there, see. That’s why I dragged the body in before I went for Master Grene.”

  ‘Closing and barring the door first, I hope,“ the other maid said scathingly.

  ‘Aye, I did that. I’m not a fool!“ Pers shot back.

  To the maid Frevisse said, “It was you came to fetch Mistress Hercy. Where did Master Grene find you, to send you to her?”

  ‘It was Pers, my lady. After he woke Master Grene and told him, he was sent to tell the rest of us and that someone was to bring Mistress Hercy.“

  ‘Where were you?“ Frevisse asked. ”Where were the rest of you?“

  ‘The kitchen. All of us that weren’t on watch, like. We’ve done that the past two nights.“

  ‘Cook snores like nobody’s business,“ Pers said. ”No one gets good sleep around him. That’s why I was sleepy when Master Grene—“

  ‘Outright sleeping is more like it,“ the other maid said.

  ‘I was sleepy,“ Pers said hotly, ”when Master Grene found me. Can I go?“ he added at Master Naylor.

  ‘If she’s done with you,“ Master Naylor said, looking at Frevisse. She saw he and Daved had finished eating, while she still held her hardly tasted bread and cheese, and one of the maids was holding out a pottery cup of ale to her.

  ‘Yes. I’m done. Thank you,“ she said, taking the cup.

  Pers gave her a bow, started to reach for a piece of bread as he made to leave, and had his hand heartily slapped by the nearest maid. The other woman had begun to clear the table, and Frevisse ate hurriedly, thinking. With the household folk all in the kitchen except for those on guard, anyone could have come and gone as they pleased through the rest of the house without being noted if they went silently. Certainly no one seemed to have heard whoever came to the solar for Brother Michael, or the friar go through the hall with him, as he must have done.

  Supposing she believed someone had come to the solar for him. There was the possibility that Brother Michael had simply fallen asleep there and Daved had cut himself free and struck him with something while he slept, then taken him out of the gate and killed him… But that raised the problem of why Daved would then have come back inside. Those dark hours before dawn were when he could have passed through the streets with least trouble. Was there something here he needed?

  And still there was the problem of getting past whoever held guard at the gate, whatever time it was done. And it could have been done before Pers’ watch, come to that. How long had it taken Daved to cut himself free?

  Or what if Master Grene was part of it, his whole business of relieving Pers on watch simply to aid Daved in getting Brother Michael into the street. But having done that, why not take the friar farther, leave him dead somewhere other than just outside the gate here?

  She was back to needing to know who had come to the solar’s door. If someone had come to the door there. And she wanted to hear what Master Naylor had found. And… She found she had finished the bread and cheese without knowing it and was staring into her cup of untouched ale. She drank it hurriedly, put it down, and said to Master Naylor and Daved, “We should go to the solar, I think.” And to the maids, “Where is Master Grene? Do you know?”

  ‘With his wife, my lady.“

  ‘Someone has been sent for the constable or crowner or sheriff or someone?“

  ‘Rafe went, my lady. He was to see what there was to buy at the market, too, and find out what he can about what’s happening with the rebels. He’s not come back yet, nor anybody he went to fetch.“

  ‘They’re likely over-busy with the living,“ Daved said.

  That was true, and it was not a comfort-laden thought. Frevisse did not suppose she was the only one here to think the troubles in London had yet to reach their worst.

  As she made to go toward the solar with Master Naylor, Dickon, and Daved, Anne came into the hall carrying a deep, apparently heavy bowl covered by a linen towel in both hands, with an open-topped pottery pot clamped against her under one arm. Daved immediately turned back to take the bowl from her.

  ‘Have you eaten?“ he asked.

  ‘In the kitchen. While I made this.“ She had the pot safely in her hands now. ”For a poultice for your wrists.“

  They went on to the solar, but as they went in, following Master Naylor, Frevisse paused to look back the hall’s length, trying in her mind to see how it had been here in the night. Dark save for whatever light came through the two tall, narrow windows, and that would have only barely thinned the darkness. Dark and empty. If Brother Michael had not been struck down in the solar itself, then it was here someone had felled him with that blow to the back of his head. With what was only too easily answered: the wooden clubs kept beside the outer door were all too readily at hand. Nor had he been a large man. Carrying his body rather than dragging it would have been possible for another man, who “only” needed then to cross the yard into the darkness of the gateway passage and go out the gate unseen. It needed great daring to have chanced that.

  Unless Master Grene was the murderer.

  Or Pers. Maybe he was secretly a Lollard and had see
n Brother Michael a foe to be rid of. But would Brother Michael have left the solar for him, with him?

  If it was choice between Pers and Master Grene, she had to favor Master Grene. He, after all, had a sure, clear way to the gate once he sent Pers to sleep. And he had reason to want Brother Michael dead. But if he had done it, had he done it alone? There could have been Daved. Or Father Tomas. Or both of them, both with reason to want the friar dead.

  And still chance could not be ruled out altogether. Maybe Brother Michael had chosen to try leaving secretly and been killed in the street by someone. Master Bocking? Or Master Bocking had come into the house secretly and… But Brother Michael would have exclaimed at seeing him at the door. But she had only Daved’s word that he had not. But why leave Daved still tied once Brother Michael was down?

  And how did the boy Hal’s death tie to it all, if it did?

  The circle of possibilities and likelihoods were small, but they tangled back and forth and in and out on one another, and it was with a flare of impatience that Frevisse went into the solar, glad she did not have to face Master Grene at that moment and wishing Daved Weir had escaped in the night. It would have made all this so much the simpler.

  Chapter 23

  Anne pointed Daved toward a flat-topped chest near the window, where the light was best and they could sit with the bowl between them while she tended to his hurt wrists and Dame Frevisse went on with all these questions of hers. Anne had expected prayers from her, or that she would see to helping Mistress Hercy soothe Pernell. What was she doing with all these questions? Did she think she was going to find out the friar’s murderer?

  At least she was better toward Daved than Anne would have thought she would be. But the quick working of her mind and Daved’s together was unquieting, and Anne took the chance as Daved set down the bowl and her back and his were to the room to say to him, low-voiced, “You should have gone on letting it seem I’d freed you.”

  As quietly, Daved said, “We won’t come to find out the friar’s murderer by lies.”

  ‘Do we care who killed him?“