The Bishop Must Die by Michael Jecks Page B

before.’
    John glanced at him with surprise. ‘He wouldn’t, would he, because he knows he can trust you, squire. You are of his blood, as well as having his confidence from your service to him.’
    ‘That is true, and yet as soon as he saw me, he snatched the parchment away before I might see it, as though he was guilty or ashamed.’
    ‘You are sure you did not mistake his action?’
    ‘No. He deliberately hid it from me. I am certain there is something wrong. But do you keep an eye on him for me, steward, in case there is something that alarms him. I would help him if I may.’

Exeter Cathedral
    There was no more galling experience than to be frightened by an unseen enemy, the bishop told himself bitterly. And he
was
frightened.
    He had always known that he would be unpopular with some. Bishops were wielders of enormous power, and as such were always feared, and therefore hated. A man who had power of life and death over another did not enjoy his respect. All too often, he was the subject of loathing, because such power could seem too arbitrary to the peasant who saw a friend hanged. Bishop Walter II had tried to prevent abuses of power, but it was not always possible. And on occasion, he had been forced to use his own power – for the greater glory of the Church, not for himself.
    When he was only a canon, he had been excommunicated. It was a lot of nonsense, but nonetheless embarrassing. He had heard, with another canon, of an illegal burial taking place at the Dominican Friary towards the east of the city. The cathedral jealously guarded their monopoly of all burials, because they were enormously lucrative. Those who wished for a church funeral were keen to have their souls protected with prayers, and with proximity to the high altar, and the Dominicans knew it. So they tried to have this knight buried in their priory so that they could benefit from the grave goods, the wax, the linen and rich cloths, as well as by the man’s gifts to them.
    Well, the cathedral had greater need of the money and goods than the Dominicans. It was ludicrous that the friars should attempt such a gross infringement of cathedral liberties. So Canon Walter, as he then was, had gone with lay brothers to chastise the friars. He had managed to get into their chapel, and there he had the lay brothers pick up the hearse, the body and all the valuable items he could find, and all would have been well, had not a belligerent group of friars come and tried to remonstrate with him. There was a scuffle, most unseemly in the House of God, and a friar was given a bloody nose before the cathedral men escaped with their booty.
    They had tried to return the body for burial later, when they had held their service to justify keeping the treasure, but the friars wouldn’t accept it, so Walter had told the lay brothers to leave the fellow at their gate. It remained there for some days, until the city had made pointed comments to the bishop, and Walter was ordered to collect it. In the end, it was buried in the cathedral.
    The friars had blamed Walter for the assault on their priory. They almost succeeded in preventing his election to the bishopric, in their determination for revenge. Fortunately, others intervened, and he was consecrated.
    All these years later, there were many more whom he had offended and who had come to hate him. But that was no reason for the foul message yesterday. How any man could seek to send such a vile note was beyond him. Well, he was determined that hewould not allow it to affect him and his ministry. He had too much to see to, too much to achieve. And at the same time there was the terrible problem of the king and queen. So many issues to be resolved. He could not afford to be distracted by some anonymous threat.
    Indeed, it was ridiculous.
    Yet, no matter how ridiculous, the bishop could not help but glance about him, as though there was an assassin nearby waiting to slay him.

Church of the Holy Trinity, Teigh
    It was a