A Summer of Discontent

‘No,’ said Michael immediately. ‘There were three — Goran had his hood over his face. Perhaps he does not like the sun on his skin. I do not, either, although it did not seem to bother him when we caught him poaching in the Fens.’

‘But I do not think that was Goran,’ said Bartholomew, frowning in thought. ‘Goran is a different shape, and why should he feel the need to keep his face covered while he was inside?’

‘Perhaps because there is some truth to these rumours, and it was indeed Goran and his brothers who have been burgling their way around the town,’ said Michael promptly. ‘He wore his hood so that he would not be recognised as the thief.’

‘Then why were his brothers bare-headed? The more I think about it, the more that hooded figure seems familiar: short and squat, with a big chest …’

‘Like Goran,’ said Michael impatiently. ‘Come on, Matt. We are confused enough as it is. Do not make matters worse by imagining things.’

‘Lady Blanche!’ exclaimed Bartholomew suddenly. ‘That is who it was. I knew that figure was familiar!’

Michael gazed at him with incredulity. ‘Blanche was in the Mermaid tavern with three gypsies? Yes, Matt. I can see why you came to that conclusion. Lady Blanche de Wake, kinsman of the King and widow of the Earl of Lancaster, is certainly the kind of woman who would enjoy an afternoon of rough company in Ely’s seediest tavern.’

‘It was her,’ said Bartholomew firmly. ‘I am certain.’

‘Then we shall have to agree to disagree on this. I do not want to argue with you, but I have never heard a more ludicrous suggestion in all my days.’ Michael pushed open the door to the infirmary chapel and changed the subject. ‘I saw you enjoyed meeting Eulalia again. I am surprised you noticed anything when your attention was so securely riveted on her.’

‘I did enjoy speaking to her,’ admitted Bartholomew, looking around him. The chapel was empty, but he walked to the altar and peered behind it, just to ensure that Symon was not hiding there. ‘I should have stayed with her longer. It would have been much more pleasant than wasting time chasing this silly librarian.’

‘She is an attractive woman,’ said Michael, regarding his friend slyly. ‘And she likes you.’

‘Probably because I am one of the few people who does not believe that she spends her evenings climbing through people’s windows in order to burgle their houses. She knows a great deal about the curative properties of wild plants. She is fascinating to talk to.’

‘I am sure she is, although I think you could have devised a more interesting topic of conversation with which to charm her than weeds.’

‘She initiated it,’ said Bartholomew defensively. ‘And she said she would give me some black resin from the pine trees of Scotland. She has invited me to visit her and collect it.’

‘Black resin!’ said Michael caustically. ‘I do not know how you can contain yourself with all the excitement.’

‘She gathered it herself when she was in the north,’ Bartholomew went on, ignoring his friend’s facetiousness and following him out of the chapel and into the hospital’s main hall. ‘It is difficult to come by in England, but is a very good remedy for fluid in the lungs. I can think of a number of my patients who will benefit from a tincture made from black resin.’

‘Henry?’ called Michael. ‘Where are you?’

‘Did you mention black resin?’ asked the priory’s infirmarian excitedly, appearing from his workroom at the end of the hall. The sullen Julian was behind him. ‘Do you have some? Will there be any to spare for a syrup to ease old Brother Ynys’s cough?’

‘I have been promised some,’ said Bartholomew. ‘What else do you use in such a mixture? I always find that-’

‘Have you seen Symon?’ interrupted Michael hastily. ‘Matt is keen to begin his reading, but Symon has disappeared with the library key.’

Henry’s mouth hardened. ‘That wretched man! He is always running away when we have visitors who want to read our books. It is because he does not know where to find any of the tomes in his care, and he is afraid that Alan will deprive him of his post if he is shown to be incompetent.’

‘He is incompetent!’ muttered Julian.

‘I have not seen him recently,’ Henry continued. ‘But I shall demand the key from him if I do, and send Julian to find you.’

‘It is too hot for me to be chasing people,’ complained Julian resentfully. ‘I should not even be here, anyway. It is the time when us brethren are supposed to be enjoying a period of rest.’

Henry sighed. ‘I have already explained to you that our day does not follow the same pattern as that of everyone else. We have patients to consider, and they are often uncomfortable and restless at this time of day. It would not do to sleep while they need us.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Julian insolently. ‘You order me to read to them, but two cannot hear and the other three are too addled in their wits even to know that I am there. It is a waste of time!’