A Summer of Discontent

Bartholomew was startled when a hand placed firmly in the middle of his back shoved him forward so hard that he stumbled. When he regained his balance, he turned to see Guido towering over his sister with an expression of black fury creasing his dark features. He thought about the gold thread — safely stowed in a box in Alan’s solar — that he had recovered from William’s body, but Guido was hatless. Bartholomew considered interrogating him about it, but decided he had better wait until he could inspect the garment properly and be sure of his facts. Guido was also angry, and Bartholomew did not feel like tackling the man without Michael or Cynric present.

‘Get away from my sister!’ Guido snapped. ‘She does not want anything to do with you.’

‘That is for her to decide,’ said Bartholomew.

‘It is for me to decide,’ snapped Guido. ‘Our king died on Friday night, and I have been elected in his place. And I say you should stay away from my sister.’

‘Go away, Guido,’ said Eulalia, casting her brother a withering look. ‘You may intimidate Rosel, but you do not frighten me. Go back to your work, and earn an honest penny for a change.’

‘For a change?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘Are the ones he usually earns dishonest?’

‘Becoming king has gone to his head,’ she said scornfully. ‘He thinks it puts him beyond a hard day’s labour, and he has been plotting with men in the city who mean us no good.’

‘Like Leycestre,’ said Bartholomew.

Both gypsies stared at him in surprise. ‘How did you know that?’ asked Eulalia.

‘I saw them together at Chettisham yesterday.’

‘You did what?’ exploded Eulalia, rounding on Guido. ‘I thought we decided that we would have nothing to do with Leycestre’s proposition.’

‘That was before I was king,’ snarled Guido dangerously. ‘Now I make the decisions, and I say Leycestre’s offer is too good to turn down.’

‘What offer is this?’ asked Bartholomew.

‘Nothing we will share with you,’ shouted Guido, turning to the physician and adding emphasis to his point by jabbing a forefinger into his chest. It was like being stabbed with a piece of iron, and Bartholomew flinched backwards.

‘Keep your hands to yourself,’ flashed Eulalia. The humour that had danced in her eyes was replaced by a dangerous fury. ‘It is because of your quick fists that we are in this predicament.’

‘What predicament?’ asked Bartholomew.

Guido took a menacing step towards the physician, but confined himself to waving a furious finger when Eulalia also moved forward. ‘It is none of your affair. Mind your own business!’

Eulalia glowered at Guido, then turned to Bartholomew to explain. ‘Leycestre offered to pay us if we would leave Ely tomorrow.’

Bartholomew stared at her, his mind whirling. ‘How much did he offer you?’

‘More than we would earn if we stayed here for another two weeks, and it means we can earn money elsewhere, too.’

‘But the offer only stands if we leave tonight,’ said Guido, sulky that Eulalia had told Bartholomew what he wanted to know. ‘If we dither, he says he will give us nothing, and that is why I have decided we will go.’

‘And it is why I have decided that there is something peculiar about this arrangement,’ countered Eulalia. ‘I do not trust Leycestre. Why does he want us gone, all of a sudden? And what will that mean for our return here next year?’

‘It would mean that you would hang for theft and possibly murder,’ said Bartholomew, knowing exactly why Leycestre was so keen for the gypsies to leave. ‘Of course, that is assuming that there is a city here at all, and that his rebellion has not destroyed everything and plunged the country into a civil war.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Guido. ‘Leycestre is a man full of silly dreams. He does not have the authority to create that sort of havoc.’

‘He is not alone,’ said Bartholomew. ‘There are pockets of unrest all over the country, and men like him are working to join them up. I am sure that he has been committing the burglaries around the town in order to raise funds for his cause. That is why he is able to pay you, despite the fact that he is little more than a labourer himself.’

Eulalia took a sharp breath. ‘Is that why he has been so vocal against us this summer? He has always been friendly before, but this year he has accused us of all manner of crimes. We are to be the scapegoat for the crimes he has committed?’

‘That is why he wants you to leave tonight: so that he can claim you burgled half the merchants in the city and then fled with your ill-gotten gains.’

‘But why the urgency?’ asked Eulalia. ‘He told Guido the arrangement is only good until midnight.’

Bartholomew frowned. ‘Perhaps it is because he intends to commit a particularly spectacular burglary tonight, and he knows it will result in a huge hue and cry. Unlike the offences committed against the merchants, this will be committed against someone more powerful and influential, who will have the resources to investigate the crime properly.’