Nicholas’s Priory.’
‘Sweet Mother of God,’ Joel mumbled, looking away.
‘He dropped in to see me,’ Henry continued. ‘At first he only had eyes for my daughter, but then he wanted to chat to me about the good old times. Not only that, he was happy to tell me all that he has done in the last forty years. God in heaven! Joel, the stories he told … you wouldn’t want to hear them, let alone believe them. The men he has killed …’
‘I never thought to see him again,’ Joel said.
‘Nor I. Yet here he is. He has served the King and the King’s father well, it seems. Well enough for his master to buy him a pension at the priory of his choice. So he is here, and he visits my house almost every day. I tell you, Joel, it makes me sick to hear him. Sick! I had to sit and listen to him snigger to think of poor Nick’s injured face, then boast about how he slaughtered the Chaunter himself, and then how clever he was to divert attention from himself and get the Mayor and gatekeeper hanged.’
‘That was how he found his patron,’ Joel agreed.
They both remembered the old story. When King Edward I, the present King’s father, arrived in full panoply to determine who should pay for the murder of the Bishop’s man, it had been William who pointed out that the Southern Gate to the city had remained open all night. The King had decided to execute those responsible, even if they couldn’t find the true murderers. Then he rewarded William by taking him into his host. William had never looked back.
‘What of it? He’ll probably die soon enough,’ Joel said. ‘He was that bit older than us.’
‘I don’t know that I can continue to live with the guilt,’ Henry said. ‘My life is scarcely worth a candle. I am to die before many years are out. I’m lucky to have survived so longalready. Before I die, I have to make my confession to the Cathedral.’
‘Now wait, Henry,’ Joel said hastily. ‘There’s no need for anything rash. Think of the risk if you do that: the Bishop may decide to haul you into his gaol and hasten your end, rather than show compassion. Never trust a man who has power of life and death over you.’
‘I have to do something. That is just what Matthew said, but I do have to do something. This guilt is eating at me.’
‘You told Matthew?’ Joel asked with astonishment.
‘I thought I could rely on him at least. I’ve known him so long,’ Henry said. ‘But he was very kind. He said that he had forgiven all those involved many years ago. In fact, he argued that this was such an old issue, it wasn’t worth raking up the embers again.’
‘I think he was very intelligent to say so,’ Joel said.
‘You none of you care, do you?’ Henry asked sadly. ‘That man died, with all his
familia
about him, and for what? To bolster the career of a man who was himself ruined. What was the point?’
‘To try to help the man who promised us much,’ Joel said.
‘Just as we should all try to help other Christians,’ Henry said bitterly. His heart felt as hollow as the empty cup on the floor beside him. ‘I don’t know. I think I should tell the Bishop.’
‘Well, I think you shouldn’t. Indeed, you mustn’t.’
‘Do you remember that first lad? The one who ran to the Chaunter to warn him? What was his name? Ah, it was so long ago. And then the Chaunter’s own man cut the boy down, thinking he was another assassin. That was the beginning of the slaughter. All so unnecessary.’
‘It may seem that way to you now,’ Joel said soothingly. ‘But it
was
necessary.’
‘Oh, damn you and damn Matthew! I must do what I think is right!’ Henry exclaimed. ‘I can’t carry on like this. Prior Peter on one side telling me I ought to confess before I die, and you two seeking only …’
‘Henry, don’t bellow like that, not in my hall,’ Joel remonstrated.
‘Oh, to hell with you, you old devil! I’ll have nothing more to do with you,’ Henry said, rising heavily to his
‘Sweet Mother of God,’ Joel mumbled, looking away.
‘He dropped in to see me,’ Henry continued. ‘At first he only had eyes for my daughter, but then he wanted to chat to me about the good old times. Not only that, he was happy to tell me all that he has done in the last forty years. God in heaven! Joel, the stories he told … you wouldn’t want to hear them, let alone believe them. The men he has killed …’
‘I never thought to see him again,’ Joel said.
‘Nor I. Yet here he is. He has served the King and the King’s father well, it seems. Well enough for his master to buy him a pension at the priory of his choice. So he is here, and he visits my house almost every day. I tell you, Joel, it makes me sick to hear him. Sick! I had to sit and listen to him snigger to think of poor Nick’s injured face, then boast about how he slaughtered the Chaunter himself, and then how clever he was to divert attention from himself and get the Mayor and gatekeeper hanged.’
‘That was how he found his patron,’ Joel agreed.
They both remembered the old story. When King Edward I, the present King’s father, arrived in full panoply to determine who should pay for the murder of the Bishop’s man, it had been William who pointed out that the Southern Gate to the city had remained open all night. The King had decided to execute those responsible, even if they couldn’t find the true murderers. Then he rewarded William by taking him into his host. William had never looked back.
‘What of it? He’ll probably die soon enough,’ Joel said. ‘He was that bit older than us.’
‘I don’t know that I can continue to live with the guilt,’ Henry said. ‘My life is scarcely worth a candle. I am to die before many years are out. I’m lucky to have survived so longalready. Before I die, I have to make my confession to the Cathedral.’
‘Now wait, Henry,’ Joel said hastily. ‘There’s no need for anything rash. Think of the risk if you do that: the Bishop may decide to haul you into his gaol and hasten your end, rather than show compassion. Never trust a man who has power of life and death over you.’
‘I have to do something. That is just what Matthew said, but I do have to do something. This guilt is eating at me.’
‘You told Matthew?’ Joel asked with astonishment.
‘I thought I could rely on him at least. I’ve known him so long,’ Henry said. ‘But he was very kind. He said that he had forgiven all those involved many years ago. In fact, he argued that this was such an old issue, it wasn’t worth raking up the embers again.’
‘I think he was very intelligent to say so,’ Joel said.
‘You none of you care, do you?’ Henry asked sadly. ‘That man died, with all his
familia
about him, and for what? To bolster the career of a man who was himself ruined. What was the point?’
‘To try to help the man who promised us much,’ Joel said.
‘Just as we should all try to help other Christians,’ Henry said bitterly. His heart felt as hollow as the empty cup on the floor beside him. ‘I don’t know. I think I should tell the Bishop.’
‘Well, I think you shouldn’t. Indeed, you mustn’t.’
‘Do you remember that first lad? The one who ran to the Chaunter to warn him? What was his name? Ah, it was so long ago. And then the Chaunter’s own man cut the boy down, thinking he was another assassin. That was the beginning of the slaughter. All so unnecessary.’
‘It may seem that way to you now,’ Joel said soothingly. ‘But it
was
necessary.’
‘Oh, damn you and damn Matthew! I must do what I think is right!’ Henry exclaimed. ‘I can’t carry on like this. Prior Peter on one side telling me I ought to confess before I die, and you two seeking only …’
‘Henry, don’t bellow like that, not in my hall,’ Joel remonstrated.
‘Oh, to hell with you, you old devil! I’ll have nothing more to do with you,’ Henry said, rising heavily to his
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