Hugh Corbett 10 - The Devil's Hunt by Paul Doherty Read Free Book Online

Day he’d even been given a shilling to buy sweetmeats for himself and his comrades at St Osyth’s. Senex opened his eyes and listened, he stared back through the darkness: all he’d wanted was a piece of cheese and a pot of ale. Senex shivered as he recalled the whispers around St Osyth’s about those other inmates who had disappeared, their headless corpses found in lonely woods. He now knew the reason why and he quietly cursed. He thought of a prayer, a short one, taught him many years ago when he and Margaret, his elder sister, had tramped the lanes begging for bread.
    Senex whimpered like a dog. Margaret was gone: she’d died of a fever in the ditch, many years ago. He’d covered her corpse with bracken. Surely Margaret in heaven would help him now? Poor, old Senex would never hurt a fly. The beggar man stared into the gloom. He’d been told that it was a game. Perhaps he could win, for the first time in his life? Senex began to crawl forward on all fours, going back along the way he had come, keeping close to the mildewed wall. He reached a comer and turned: he could see a chink of light in the distance but then he heard that whistle again, low yet clear, like a man calling his dog. Senex listened intently. Was someone lurking there? He turned and scampered away, back to the place he’d left, his hand catching the grey ragstone wall. There must be a way out surely? He would not be trapped like old Brakespeare had been. Senex stopped, fingers to his lips - Brakespeare had been a soldier and he’d been caught! Senex stopped and sniffed the air; he could smell faint cooking smells; bacon and freshly cooked meat. Senex’s stomach growled. He licked dry lips. If he kept going ahead perhaps he’d be safe? He reached the corner and, after crouching, ran on blindly. He froze at the stealthy patter of feet behind him. Someone was in hot pursuit. Senex reached a wall, he scrambled up, looking for an escape but could find no way. He turned. He should have gone right! He heard the whistle again and the pinprick of a torchlight grew as the figure carrying it drew closer. Senex put his hands up.
    ‘Oh, please no! Please no!’
    He heard the click and, before he could move, he took the crossbow bolt full in his stomach. Senex crouched down, his fingers curling in pain, grasping the dirt. He couldn’t move. He tried to edge forward but then he saw the boots. He looked up and, as he did, the great two-handled axe took his head off, clean and sheer.
    The next morning, just after dawn, journeyman Taldo, making his way out of Oxford towards Banbury, came across Senex’s corpse. It lay beneath an old holm tree and, from one of the branches stretched across the path, hung the old beggar’s severed head.

Chapter 3
    On the day after Taldo had hurried back to Oxford to report his grisly findings to the sheriff, Sir Hugh Corbett, Ranulf and Maltote entered the city. An early downpour of rain had drenched the streets and cleaned the runnels and alleyways, dulling the rotten odour from the middens. Corbett, his cowl pulled back, let his horse find its way through the dirty packed streets of the university town. They’d entered by the south gate but, instead of going straight towards the castle or Sparrow Hall, Corbett took Ranulf and Maltote along the byways and alleyways so they could grasp the feel of the city. Corbett himself felt a little nostalgic. It had been years since he’d returned: now, the sight, sounds and smells brought back the glorious days of his youth. A happy, carefree time when Corbett had lived in shabby apartments and thronged with the rest of the bachelors, students and scholars down to the bleak rooms of the Schools to hear the Masters lecture on rhetoric, logic, theology and philosophy.
    Corbett found his return eerie: despite the passing of the years, nothing seemed to have changed. Peasants from the outskirts of Oxford tried to force their way through with heavy wheeled carts or sodden sumpter ponies