The Devil's Disciples by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online

water.
    ‘An experiment. Carton found some powder in Thomas’s room, and wants to know if it is poison.’
    Michael regarded him in alarm. ‘Poison? You mean William might have been right when he claimed Thomas was dispatched by Dominicans?
     Lord knows, he gave them enough cause with his spiteful speeches. However, I was happier thinking you had killed him with
     the wrong medicine.’
    Bartholomew recoiled. ‘That is an unpleasant thing to say.’
    ‘I am sorry, but it would be disastrous to learn Thomas was murdered. William, Mildenale and Carton will certainly accuse
     the Dominicans, and the Dominicans will object. And it will not be an easy case to solve after more than a week – Thomas was
     buried on Ascension Day. Do you remember Mildenale insisting he go in the ground then, because it might mean less time in
     Purgatory?’
    ‘Do you believe that?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘Margery did, and so did Goldynham the silversmith, because they and Thomas were
     all interred on the same day.’
    ‘Superstition and religion are often difficult to separate,’ replied Michael, a little patronisingly. ‘But I do not believe
     a particular day is more or less auspicious for going into the ground. It is what you do in life that counts, not when you
     happen to be buried. However, I am more concerned with this poison than in discussing theology. What can you tell me?’
    ‘That I doubt you will be adding Thomas to your list of investigations. I do not think this powder is poison. It smells of
     violets, which are used in cures for quinsy, and Thomas often suffered from sore throats. And even if it does transpire to
     be toxic, there is nothing to say Thomas swallowed it. I told you – he died because I gave him the wrong medicine. I wish
     it were otherwise, but it is not.’
    Michael rubbed his chin. ‘Carton does not share your beliefs, if he asked you to test this powder. He sees something suspicious
     in what happened to his friend.’
    ‘Immediately after the stone hit him, Thomas claimed the Sorcerer “poisoned” him with a curse. I suspect itwas his odd choice of words that has encouraged Carton to look for alternative explanations – and the reason why he refuses
     to accept my culpability.’
    ‘Could it be true? Thomas did preach very violently against the Sorcerer.’
    ‘The Sorcerer may have lobbed the rock that caused the initial injury, I suppose. Thomas thought it was propelled magically,
     although I do not believe—’
    ‘So he
was
murdered?’ interrupted Michael uneasily.
    ‘Stones fall from roofs, they are flicked up by carts, they are thrown around by careless children. I doubt you will learn
     what really happened after all this time.’
    But Michael was unwilling to let the matter lie. ‘I do not suppose you looked for evidence of poison when you inspected his
     body in your capacity as Corpse Examiner, did you?’
    ‘Rougham acted as Corpse Examiner for Thomas. It would have been unethical for me to do it, given that Mildenale and William
     had accused me of malpractice. But even if I had inspected him, I could not have told you whether he was poisoned. Most toxic
     substances are undetectable.’
    Michael nodded at the experiment. ‘Then why bother with that?’
    Bartholomew looked tired. ‘Because Carton said Thomas would have appreciated it. It is the least I can do.’
    Bartholomew stepped out of the comparative cool of his room moments after Cynric had delivered the promised ale. The yard
     was a furnace, and he could feel the sun burning through his shirt and tabard. Michael started to follow, intending to visit
     the proctors’ office in St Marythe Great, but had second thoughts when he saw the heat rising in shimmering waves from the ground. Langelee spotted his Fellows,
     and beckoned them to stand with him in the meagre shade of a cherry tree.
    ‘Do you think William made a valid point in his Sermon?’ he asked uneasily. ‘Not about the Dominicans being responsible for