The Killer of Pilgrims by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online Page B

class’s attention – they were all staring
     in open-mouthed fascination towards the roof on which the builders were working.
    ‘What does Galen say about blood that is excessively salty?’ he asked loudly, indicating that Valence should answer the question.
    But Valence was transfixed by Yffi’s description of what Yolande could do with a handful of chestnuts and a warm cloth, and
     it was Rob Deynman, the dim-witted librarian, who answered. Deynman had been a medical student himself, until he had been
     ‘promoted’ in an effort to keep him from practising on an unwary public, and prided himself on what he could remember from
     the many years of lessons he had attended. Unfortunately, his memory was rarely equal to his enthusiasm.
    ‘He said salty blood is white,’ he replied, with one ofhis bright and rather vacant grins. ‘Because salt is white. And if blood is white, then it means it has turned into phlegm.’
    ‘Lord!’ muttered Bartholomew, wondering whether anything he had taught the lad had been retained in anything like its original
     context. ‘Can anyone else tell me what—’
    But he was interrupted by a furious screech from outside, which had students and masters alike rushing to the window to see
     what was going on. It was Agatha the laundress, the formidable matron who had inveigled herself into a position of some power
     among the servants. It was an unorthodox arrangement – women were not permitted inside Colleges – but neither the Master nor
     his Fellows were bold enough to tell her so. She was chasing a dog, which had a ham in its jaws. Cheers from the roof indicated
     the builders had also abandoned their work to enjoy the spectacle.
    Determined to retrieve the meat, Agatha gradually corralled the animal into a corner, where it took refuge behind a large
     pile of tiles, all covered with an oiled sheet. Then she lunged. The dog yowled its outrage as she laid hold of its tail,
     although its jaws remained firmly fastened around its booty. It became entangled in the sheet in its efforts to escape. Workmen
     and students alike howled their laughter, although the Fellows were more restrained, knowing from personal experience what
     could happen if Agatha took umbrage.
    ‘Go and help her, Bartholomew,’ instructed Langelee, fighting to keep a straight face. ‘Or we shall be here all day, and lessons
     will suffer.’
    Bartholomew went to oblige, hurrying down the spiral staircase before Agatha or the dog could harm each other. When he emerged
     in the yard, she was hauling furiouslyon the sheet in an effort to locate her quarry, roughly enough that some of the tiles were falling off their stacks. Yffi
     was scrambling down the scaffolding, yelling angrily about the damage. Blaston and the watching apprentices were helpless
     with laughter.
    ‘Stop, Agatha,’ urged Bartholomew, running towards her. ‘Let me help you.’
    ‘I do not need help,’ snarled Agatha, jerking the sheet so violently that several more tiles crashed to the ground. The dog’s
     agitated yips added to the general cacophony. ‘I just want to—’
    With a tearing sound, the sheet came away, sending Agatha lurching backwards. The dog was catapulted free and made the most
     of the opportunity by racing towards the gate. But neither she nor Bartholomew noticed it. Their attention was taken by what
     her tugging had exposed – a man lying half buried by the tiles she had dislodged.

CHAPTER 2

    ‘Is he dead?’ demanded Langelee, hovering over Bartholomew as the physician struggled to haul the fallen tiles from the prostrate
     figure beneath. ‘Who is it? Which of the builders?’
    ‘It is none of us,’ replied Yffi shakily. The mason was a crop-haired man with the kind of belly that indicated he was fond
     of ale; he was fond of camp-ball, too, which said a good deal about his belligerent character. He and his apprentices stood
     to one side of the pile, while Blaston was on the other. ‘We are all present