New Blood From Old Bones by Sheila Radley

since.’
    â€˜Ah, William –’
    Lawrence Throssell came close and reached up to embrace him again, this time with wholehearted warmth. ‘We have both suffered enough over our sweet Anne – let us not spoil our friendship any longer.’
    The old gentleman bustled about, filling two glasses. ‘Come, sit with me and drink a little malmsey wine. I’faith, we had all feared you dead in battle. Knowing you to be alive, and engaged abroad in the service of the Crown, was relief enough. And besides’ – his eyes brightened – ‘in your absence I have had the joy of visits from my granddaughter. She is a fine child.’
    Will smiled at once. ‘Indeed she is,’ he said proudly, ‘and more like her mother than like me, I thank God!’ Then he paused. ‘I do desire, sir, to see the place where Anne is buried.’
    â€˜We shall go there before noon. And afterwards you shall join me at dinner – I have ordered your favourite dish of trout, fresh from the Nar.’
    Recalling his most recent sighting of the river, Will accepted with some caution. ‘I’ll dine with you gladly, godfather. But as for eating fish new-caught from those waters …’
    Lawrence Throssell chuckled. ‘You need not fear for your stomach – I gave orders that the trout should be caught well upstream of where the dead body lay! It was you who found it, so the constable sent me word.’
    â€˜Not I, but a dancing bear. I merely sent to tell of it. Did the constable recognise the body – or was it some vagabond, drunk or dead of disease, as I thought from the rags?’
    â€˜It was neither accident nor a natural death,’ said the justice. ‘The man was murdered, it seems. As to who he is, the constable knows not – and I thank God for that. I have feared these past few months that murder would be done in Castleacre.’
    â€˜My sister Meg seemed to fear it too,’ Will agreed, ‘when I told her of the dead body. I talked last night with my brother, and I know what you both feared – that it was the prior’s bailiff who lay dead, and by Gilbert’s hand.’
    â€˜True, true.’ His godfather sighed. ‘Your brother has brought dishonour on the Ackland name. He drinks too much, ill-treats his men, and abuses anyone who crosses his path. It’s well known that he has uttered threats against Walter Bostock, the bailiff. If Bostock were done to death, the whole town would name Gilbert his murderer without benefit of trial.’
    â€˜Then I am thankful it was a man in rags who died,’ said Will. ‘A quarrel between vagabonds, do you suppose?’
    Justice Throssell frowned. ‘From what my servants have heard, there may be more to it than that. I have sent word to the constable to meet me at the mortuary at noon, so that I may view the body before burial.’
    The old gentleman hesitated, his authority less sure. ‘Go with me, Will, I pray you, and lend me your eyes, for mine are no longer as sharp as once they were.’

Chapter Five
    Will had brought his godfather the gift of an Italian pen knife, a fine blade with a handle of carved ivory. Having admired it and given his thanks, Lawrence Throssell called for his cloak against the late September breeze. Then the two set out for the place of Anne’s burial, Will shortening his stride to suit the old gentleman’s trotting pace.
    As soon as they left the house in Northgate street they could hear music and the buzz of enjoyment from the centre of the town. The solemnities at the priory church would have been completed by now. The great processional service of the Festal Mass would be over, and the bloodstained bones of St Matthew would have been returned to their shrine. The pilgrims, in high spirits after witnessing the holy miracle, would be flocking to the market place in search of earthly pleasures, food and drink and entertainment and