A Summer of Discontent

‘I think he rubbed it in his hair,’ explained Tysilia helpfully.

‘Be quiet,’ ordered William. ‘And keep your hands where I can see them.’

‘And?’ asked de Lisle of Michael. ‘What did the kinsmen of the unhappy Haywarde tell you?’

‘Nothing,’ Michael admitted. ‘I was hoping to find some connection between him and the other two victims, but nothing was forthcoming. I thought they might be involved in the rebellion that seems to be fermenting in the town.’

‘Leycestre and his silly nephews,’ spat de Lisle in disgust. ‘Nothing they discuss can be of sufficient importance to warrant murder.’

‘Not everyone is as sanguine as you are,’ Michael pointed out. ‘Seditious talk may be considered treasonous.’

‘What salacious talk is this?’ demanded Tysilia in a hoarse whisper, sounding very interested.

De Lisle glanced sharply towards the tree in which she hid. ‘Are you sure you can hear nothing, Brother? That sounded like a voice to me.’

‘It was probably squirrels,’ said Michael complacently. ‘There are a lot of them around at this time of year, looking for nuts.’

‘What about Northburgh and Stretton?’ asked de Lisle, after a searching gaze revealed nothing amiss. Bartholomew could almost hear William holding his breath. ‘Have they learned anything?’

‘Hardly!’ snorted Michael in disgust. ‘Stretton had to ask me how to begin his enquiries, while Northburgh declines to leave the priory lest he contract some peasant ailment.’

‘This is not good,’ said de Lisle worriedly. ‘My name will never be cleared as long as that pair is supposed to be uncovering the evidence. Everyone will merely assume I could not be proven guilty, rather than that I am innocent.’

‘But you have me,’ declared Michael, a little peevishly. ‘I will uncover the truth.’

De Lisle regarded him uneasily. ‘I know. But this investigation is proceeding a good deal more slowly than it should. I dislike being accused of murder: it is not good for a bishop to be seen as the kind of man who commits earthly sins.’

‘I imagine not,’ said Michael. ‘But this is not an easy case to solve, because there is very little for me to work on. I cannot see any link between these three men, except for the fact that they were all killed by the same unusual method. We may have to resort to using a tethered goat to draw the killer out — perhaps dangle some other malcontent in order to force him to strike.’

‘As long as I am not the goat, you can do what you like,’ said de Lisle. ‘But do not linger over this, Michael. You have always been my faithful servant, and I am in your debt for the loyalty you have shown me in the past. But now my very life is in your hands. Prove me innocent of these charges, and I shall see you rewarded in ways that even you cannot imagine.’

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement and the Bishop took his leave. Bartholomew was unable to prevent himself from laughing aloud when de Lisle strode quickly away without making the slightest pretence of keeping himself hidden, and then almost collided with Sub-prior Thomas and Almoner Robert, who just happened to be passing the end of the cemetery.

‘Watch where you are going,’ Bartholomew heard de Lisle snap.

‘Why, my Lord Bishop!’ exclaimed Robert in surprise, an unreadable expression on his foxy face. ‘What brings you to our humble cemetery? It seems an odd place for a man like you to haunt.’

‘I haunt wherever I like,’ said de Lisle haughtily. ‘I am the Bishop of Ely, and this is my See. And what I was doing in the cemetery is none of your affair.’

‘It is often used as a place for meetings we would rather no one else knew about,’ said Thomas, giving de Lisle a knowing nudge in the ribs. The Bishop spluttered in indignant outrage, but Thomas was unperturbed and his salacious grin merely grew wider. ‘I have caught many a young novice here among the graves with the kitchen maids.’

‘Well, I can assure you that you will find no kitchen maid here,’ said de Lisle, giving the two monks an icy glare before strutting away, his bearing arrogant and determined.

Exchanging an amused smile, Thomas and Robert watched him go, then resumed their walk. When they had gone, Michael followed the route his Bishop had taken, before ducking quickly around the corner and heading in the direction of the Black Hostry, where a bell was ringing to announce that a meal was ready for any Benedictine guests who might be hungry. Bartholomew was sure Michael was hungry.

Moments later, Tysilia emerged from the trees, brushing leaves from her clothes. She gave William a conspiratorial grin, and announced in a loud voice that she hoped to hear from him very soon. Then she scampered away among the graves. As she reached the place where de Lisle had met the two monks a few moments before, someone appeared out of nowhere and all but sent her flying.

‘Be careful!’ she cried angrily, when she had regained her balance. ‘You cannot take up all the path, you know. You must leave some of it for others.’