Unhallowed Ground by Mel Starr Read Free Book Online

from the Weald to Cow-Leys Corner?
    Did Peter’s wife assist, or his lad? Perhaps she or he carried atte Bridge’s feet, and briefly dropped them in the muddy road when the burden grew heavy.
    Peter Carpenter, like Hubert Shillside, is a friend. What if I were to discover that one of these indeed murdered Thomas atte Bridge? The mournful thought occupied my mind as Kate and I walked Church View Street to Galen House. On our way we met Martyn the cobbler and Eleanor hurrying from the church. Eleanor carried a pale bundle in her arms. The babe was properly baptized and the outcome now in God’s hands.
    Not entirely. How would the babe’s life be altered did I discover that his grandfather had slain his father? I did not wish to think longer of the matter. But it is sure that when a man tries to dismiss a thought it will fix itself in his mind.
    The day was far gone when Kate and I returned to Galen House. We ate a cold supper of capon and barley loaf and went silently to our bed. I found no rest, and heard Kate’s steady breathing for much of the night before I fell to sleep some time shortly before Kate’s rooster announced the new day.
    Neither Kate nor I had appetite to break our fast. She set ale and a wheaten loaf before me. But I could manage only a small portion of the loaf. I am not usually so afflicted. Hunger can overwhelm my darkest moods, most of the time.
    “Will you seek the carpenter’s house this day,” she asked, “to learn if the babe lives?”
    “Aye.”
    “What fine must they pay?”
    “Six pence for leirwite, another six for childwite is common.”
    “Common? You say so, but your manner says other.”
    I motioned Kate to our bench, placed more wood upon the fire, for it was a chill morn, then sat beside her and told her of Peter Carpenter’s disclosure.
    Kate’s lips grew thin as I related the tale, and although the blaze upon our hearth grew warm I sensed a chill come over Kate.
    “So a bailiff would make Peter Carpenter pay for the injury done his daughter?”
    “Some would, to keep their position. Great lords are always in want. Most would have a shilling from even a pauper could they get it.”
    “Is Lord Gilbert Talbot such a man?”
    “He will not turn profit away, but I think he would see unfairness in this matter.”
    “Think you so?” Kate replied with raised brows.
    “He will not return from Pembroke ’til Lammastide. Perhaps he need not know.”
    “Or by Lammastide we may know the truth of Thomas atte Bridge’s death.”
    She said “we” again. I wished no discord this day, so did not contest the word. I was not long practiced at being a husband, but I am a ready scholar.

Chapter 4
     
    N ext day I found Peter sitting upon the same bench where I had left him. I asked for news of the babe.
    “He lives,” he replied, “but cries weakly and does not take the breast of the wet nurse strongly.”
    As he spoke a curate and four others darkened the door of the carpenter’s house. They had come to bear Jane to the churchyard.
    Jane had been already wrapped in her burial shroud and placed in a coffin. Peter would not see his daughter await the return of the Lord Christ in only a black winding sheet. The curate’s companions carried the coffin from house to street, and I joined the procession which made its way up Church View Street. Kate heard the wailing as we approached and followed as the mourners passed Galen House.
    The bearers set Jane down in the lych gate, where Father Thomas awaited the procession. Before the sixth hour mass was said, the grave diggers had completed their work, and Jane Carpenter was awaiting the resurrection of the dead in St Beornwald’s churchyard.
    I had little stomach for business in what remained of the day, but busied myself at the castle so as to escape thoughts of recent black events. Next morn, after a loaf and ale, I bid Kate “Good day,” and set out again for the castle. I came upon Peter Carpenter as I passed Rosemary Lane. He had