said, ‘You mean that thieving shit Mark was out here last weekend? If I’d
known, I’d have killed the bastard!’
There was a sudden silence. His voice had been louder than he intended. Not that he regretted it. He’d be damned if he’d apologise for cursing the man who had robbed him of his
wealth. Mark, it was, who had taken Hamelin’s money, then gambled and lost it all. And by simply taking on the tonsure, he had evaded his debtors. ‘The bastard!’ he repeated.
‘You should keep your voice down.’
‘Who’s that?’ he demanded truculently, peering at the man who had joined him.
‘It’s me – Wally.’
‘Ah! Oh, Wally. Yes. You’re a friend, you are. What are you doing here?’
‘I don’t really know,’ Wally admitted, jealously eyeing the tinners. He should have been up there, selling his tin. If his mining had succeeded, he would have been, instead of
earning money by thieving. Ah well. He was alive, and that was the main thing. ‘Come on, Hamelin, let’s get you somewhere safe.’
‘Can’t go home like this. Wife’s got no money. Youngest is ill. Can’t let her see me like this.’
He was a dead weight on Wally’s arm, and Wally staggered. Then he saw a bench, and led Hamelin to it. ‘Lie down on that,’ he puffed.
Hamelin was reluctant to do so, explaining that the sky was turning around and around, and that people were staring at him, but eventually Wally managed to settle him, and soon he was rewarded
with harsh rumbling snores.
That was when he returned to watching the coining.
There being a slight pause, Joce and other officers were refreshing themselves with wine. At that point, Wally caught sight of Sara again. She hovered on the edge of the crowd, a hand up as
though to wave, her attention fixed eagerly on Joce’s face. Then she called to him softly, her face still excited and joyous. Wally thought he’d never seen such a lovely girl, not since
the Scottish woman.
He heard her call out, saw Joce stiffen, saw the Receiver’s face alter subtly, that cruel sneer spreading as he turned and strode towards her. The man spoke for a moment, and then
guffawed, while Sara’s features seemed to crumple. Suddenly her eyes had regained that appalled expression of the previous night, and her hand went to her mouth.
Wally felt his spine turn to ice.
‘Stupid bitch! Thought because I’d rattled her once, I’d marry her!’
Wally could hear the harshness of the braggart’s voice. Sycophantic colleagues all about Joce chuckled as he spoke. Even Brother Augerus was there, Wally saw.
‘She asked me to marry her. Well, anyone would promise that, for a chance to lie with her. So I did. But Christ’s Blood, only a stupid strumpet could believe in an oath like that!
Marry
her
? I’d as soon wed a whore from the tavern. She’s a good slut, though. I’ve only once before enjoyed one more, and that was years ago in the north.’
Wally stumbled away from the market, feeling physically sick.
Somehow he had made an appalling mistake. The man with whom he had worked, with whom he had shared so much, was gone, and in his place was this new character, a man whom Wally should have
detested and scorned – or slaughtered. The words, ‘years ago in the north,’ kept ringing in his mind. There was only one girl Joce could have meant by that. Suddenly Wally knew he
hated Joce.
Wally leaned against a door and stared dully back the way he had come. He needed a drink, he thought, and then remembered the state of Hamelin. No, he’d go and get some grub instead. There
was the pie-shop nearby, and he headed to it with feet that were suddenly leaden.
At the shop, he was welcomed by the scruffy cook.
‘Hello, Nob,’ Wally said distractedly, and bought a small, cheap meat-pie.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Nob cheerily.
At first Wally scarcely heard the amiable enquiry; he was too taken up with his feelings towards Joce. Wally and his pal Martyn had worked for the Receiver for
known, I’d have killed the bastard!’
There was a sudden silence. His voice had been louder than he intended. Not that he regretted it. He’d be damned if he’d apologise for cursing the man who had robbed him of his
wealth. Mark, it was, who had taken Hamelin’s money, then gambled and lost it all. And by simply taking on the tonsure, he had evaded his debtors. ‘The bastard!’ he repeated.
‘You should keep your voice down.’
‘Who’s that?’ he demanded truculently, peering at the man who had joined him.
‘It’s me – Wally.’
‘Ah! Oh, Wally. Yes. You’re a friend, you are. What are you doing here?’
‘I don’t really know,’ Wally admitted, jealously eyeing the tinners. He should have been up there, selling his tin. If his mining had succeeded, he would have been, instead of
earning money by thieving. Ah well. He was alive, and that was the main thing. ‘Come on, Hamelin, let’s get you somewhere safe.’
‘Can’t go home like this. Wife’s got no money. Youngest is ill. Can’t let her see me like this.’
He was a dead weight on Wally’s arm, and Wally staggered. Then he saw a bench, and led Hamelin to it. ‘Lie down on that,’ he puffed.
Hamelin was reluctant to do so, explaining that the sky was turning around and around, and that people were staring at him, but eventually Wally managed to settle him, and soon he was rewarded
with harsh rumbling snores.
That was when he returned to watching the coining.
There being a slight pause, Joce and other officers were refreshing themselves with wine. At that point, Wally caught sight of Sara again. She hovered on the edge of the crowd, a hand up as
though to wave, her attention fixed eagerly on Joce’s face. Then she called to him softly, her face still excited and joyous. Wally thought he’d never seen such a lovely girl, not since
the Scottish woman.
He heard her call out, saw Joce stiffen, saw the Receiver’s face alter subtly, that cruel sneer spreading as he turned and strode towards her. The man spoke for a moment, and then
guffawed, while Sara’s features seemed to crumple. Suddenly her eyes had regained that appalled expression of the previous night, and her hand went to her mouth.
Wally felt his spine turn to ice.
‘Stupid bitch! Thought because I’d rattled her once, I’d marry her!’
Wally could hear the harshness of the braggart’s voice. Sycophantic colleagues all about Joce chuckled as he spoke. Even Brother Augerus was there, Wally saw.
‘She asked me to marry her. Well, anyone would promise that, for a chance to lie with her. So I did. But Christ’s Blood, only a stupid strumpet could believe in an oath like that!
Marry
her
? I’d as soon wed a whore from the tavern. She’s a good slut, though. I’ve only once before enjoyed one more, and that was years ago in the north.’
Wally stumbled away from the market, feeling physically sick.
Somehow he had made an appalling mistake. The man with whom he had worked, with whom he had shared so much, was gone, and in his place was this new character, a man whom Wally should have
detested and scorned – or slaughtered. The words, ‘years ago in the north,’ kept ringing in his mind. There was only one girl Joce could have meant by that. Suddenly Wally knew he
hated Joce.
Wally leaned against a door and stared dully back the way he had come. He needed a drink, he thought, and then remembered the state of Hamelin. No, he’d go and get some grub instead. There
was the pie-shop nearby, and he headed to it with feet that were suddenly leaden.
At the shop, he was welcomed by the scruffy cook.
‘Hello, Nob,’ Wally said distractedly, and bought a small, cheap meat-pie.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Nob cheerily.
At first Wally scarcely heard the amiable enquiry; he was too taken up with his feelings towards Joce. Wally and his pal Martyn had worked for the Receiver for
Similar Books
