Dissolution

At night the church had quite a different aspect. It seemed like a great cavern, the roof lost in echoing darkness. Pinpoints of light came from candles lit before favoured images round the walls, and there were two larger oases of light, one beyond the rood screen in the choir, the other in a side chapel. I led Mark there, guessing Singleton would have the less exalted setting.

The open coffin stood on a table. Posted round it were nine or ten monks, each holding a large candle. They made a strange sight, those cowled figures in the dark, their sombre faces lit from below. As we approached I saw Brother Athelstan there; he quickly lowered his head. Brother Jude and Brother Hugh shuffled aside to give us room.

Singleton's head had been set upon his neck and a block of wood laid between the head and the coffin's back to hold it in place. His eyes and mouth had been closed and but for the red line round the neck he could have been lying in the repose of natural death. I looked down, then lifted my head hastily at the smell that rose from the body, cutting through the monks' fusty odour. Singleton had been dead over a week and out of the vault he was decomposing fast. I nodded gravely to the monks and withdrew a few paces.

'I am going to bed,' I said to Mark. 'You may stay if you wish.'

He shook his head. 'I will come with you. It is a doleful sight.'

'I would pay my respects to Simon Whelplay. But as laymen I doubt we would be welcome.'

Mark nodded and we turned away. The sound of a Latin psalm came from behind the rood screen where the novice lay. I recognized Psalm 94.

'O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth: O God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself.'

***

Exhausted though I was, I slept badly again. My back pained me and I only dozed in fits and starts. Mark too was restless, grunting and mumbling in his dreams. Just as the sky lightened I fell at last into a deep sleep, only to be woken by Mark an hour later. He was already up and dressed.

'Jesu's mercy,' I groaned. 'Is it full day?'

'Aye, sir.' There was still something withdrawn about his tone. A shaft of pain ran through my hump as I heaved myself up; I could not go on like this.

'No more noises this morning?' I asked. I had not intended to bait him, but it was coming to annoy me the way my words seemed to slide from him like water from a duck.

'As a matter of fact, I did think I heard something a few minutes ago,' he said coldly. 'It's gone now.'

'I have been thinking on what Jerome said yesterday. You know he is mad. It is possible he himself believes the stories he told us, and that that made them sound – credible.'

Mark met my gaze. 'I am not sure he is mad at all, sir. Only in great agony of soul.'

I had hoped Mark would accept my explanation; though I did not realize it then, I needed reassurance.

'Well, one way or the other,' I said sharply, 'what he says had no bearing on Singleton's death. It may even have been smoke to hide something he does know. And now we must press on.'

'Yes, sir.'

By the time I was shaved and dressed Mark had gone down the hall to breakfast. As I approached the kitchen, I heard his voice and Alice's.

'He should not make you labour so,' Mark was saying.

'It makes me strong,' Alice replied in a voice lighter than any I had heard her use. 'I will have arms thick and strong as yours one day.'

'That would be meet for no lady.'

Feeling a pang of jealousy, I coughed and went in. Mark was at table, smiling at Alice as she manoeuvred stone urns into a row. They did indeed look heavy.

'Good morning. Mark, would you take those letters to the abbot's house? Tell him I will keep the deeds for now.'

'Of course.' He left me with Alice, who set bread and cheese on the table. She seemed in better spirits this morning and made no reference to our conversation the night before, asking me only if I fared well that morning. I was a little disappointed at the formality of the question, for her words the evening before had gladdened my heart, although I was glad I had withdrawn my hand; there were enough complications here.

Brother Guy came in. 'Old Brother August needs his pan, Alice.'

'At once.' She curtsied and went out. Outside, the bells began tolling loudly. They seemed to echo round my skull.

'Commissioner Singleton's funeral will be in half an hour.'

'Brother Guy,' I said, suddenly awkward, 'may I consult with you, professionally?'

'Of course. Any assistance I can give.'

'I am having trouble with my back. Since the long ride here it pains me where – where it protrudes.'

'Would you like me to look?'

I took a long, deep breath. I hated the thought of a stranger seeing my deformity, but I had been suffering ever since the journey from London and was starting to become anxious some lasting damage might have been done. 'Very well,' I said, and began to remove my doublet.

Brother Guy went behind me and I felt cool fingers on my back, probing the knotted muscles. He grunted.

'Well?' I asked anxiously.