The Straw Men by Paul Doherty Read Free Book Online Page A

says the Lord, I will repay”?’
    â€˜The Roundhoop,’ the voice grated.
    â€˜I was used, you know that?’
    â€˜How do we know?’
    â€˜On reflection,’ Athelstan retorted, ‘that Friar of the Sack was no more a friar than you are, Brother.’
    The man laughed a merry sound which lessened the tension. ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked.
    â€˜Because, allegedly, he belongs to a strict order dedicated to the dying, yet he was more interested in getting out of that tavern than I was. Men were dying violently; never once did he stay to offer the
consolamentum
. He must have been one of yours; he told you about what happened.’
    â€˜True,’ the voice whispered. ‘He was still a priest, a friar just terrified of being caught both in our company,’ he laughed, ‘as well as that of a common whore.’
    â€˜Brother.’ Athelstan walked on, clutching his linen parcel. ‘My pies are getting cold. I am hungry and very tired. Why lurk in the shadows? Come and join me at the table. I could even hear your confession, shrive you, forgive your sins before you also die.’
    â€˜When the Apocalypse comes, the Day of Great Slaughter and the strongholds fall, which side will you be on, Athelstan?’
    â€˜I will do my duty to my parishioners. I will say my prayers.’
    â€˜You will not be on the side of God?’
    â€˜God has no sides.’
    â€˜What about justice, right?’
    â€˜Micah chapter six, verse three,’ Athelstan retorted. ‘“Three things I ask of you, Son of Man, and only these three. To love justly, to act tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.”’
    â€˜We want you to join us.’
    â€˜I will pray for you.’ Athelstan heard the scrape of steel from a scabbard; he stopped, his mouth dry.
    â€˜
Pax et Bonum
,’ the voice whispered. ‘Fear not, little friar. We are near the end of the lane and we don’t want to be surprised by your fat friend the coroner.’
    â€˜He is my friend and a good one. He does not draw steel on a poor friar or worse, make his supper grow cold.’
    â€˜We know that. Now listen, just ask Sir John who is the prisoner the Flemings brought to the Tower? Oh, and tell Sir John to be more prudent. He should not walk so bold; most of his masters are both bought and sold.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜This is the hour of Judas, Friar. Darkness is falling. The poor earthworms stir and the hawk lords survey the field and wonder how all this might end.’
    â€˜What is that to him?’
    â€˜Tell him the tribes of Edom, Moab, Philistia and Egypt are already plotting to divide the spoils.’
    â€˜I do not know . . .’
    â€˜He will, Brother, but now, a word of warning to you and yours.’ The voice became a hiss. ‘Among your parishioners, those who serve the Upright Men, walks a true-arch priest Judas – for him there will be no mercy or compassion. The business at the Roundhoop was this Judas’ work. Keep an eye on your flock, Brother. We certainly shall. If necessary we shall impose the ban.’
    â€˜The ban?’ Athelstan felt a deep chill, half suspecting what he meant.
    â€˜You quote scripture, Brother, so do I . . .’
    â€˜So did Satan,’ Athelstan retorted, ‘when he tempted Christ.’
    Again, the laugh. ‘Consult the Book of Samuel, Brother.’ The figure drew closer and, before Athelstan could react, grasped the friar’s hand and pressed in a small pouch of coins. ‘For the poor. You gave the last rites to one of our comrades at the Roundhoop. What did he say?’
    â€˜You know I cannot tell you what he confessed but he babbled about gleaning; he was searching for someone.’
    â€˜Aren’t we all?’ came the sardonic reply. ‘Farewell, Brother, for now.’ The shadows receded. Athelstan looked back down the alleyway: lantern horns had been lit;