Bartholomew rubbed at his temples. 'When Brother Michael and I found Kenzie murdered, it went through our minds that the students might riot if they believed he had been killed by a townsperson. We went to some trouble to keep our thoughts on the matter to ourselves.
But neither of us anticipated that the scale of the rioting would be so great. It was terrifying.'
Tulyet puffed out his cheeks, and gave him a rueful smile. 'You were terrified! Imagine what it felt like to be the embodiment of secular law — for scholar and townsperson alike to single out for violence and abuse!
These are dangerous times, Matt. Since the plague, outlaws have flourished and it is difficult to recruit soldiers to replace the ones we lost. Violent crime is more difficult to control and the high price of bread has driven even usually law-abiding people to criminal acts.
But all this does not answer our basic question: what was the real cause of last night's violence?'
'Perhaps the way forward is to investigate the crimes that were perpetrated under its cover: for example the rape of that woman, and the burglary at Deschalers's home,' suggested Bartholomew.
'Those among others!' said Tulyet with resignation. 'I have had reports of three similar lootings — where only what was easily carried and of the highest value was stolen — and there are the nine deaths to consider.'
'Do you think one of those nine is at the heart of all this?' asked Bartholomew.
Tulyet shrugged. 'I think it unlikely. The only one of any standing or influence was the young friar from Godwinsson.'
Bartholomew told him about the visit he and Michael had paid to Godwinsson Hostel and the possible roles of the student friars, Edred and Werbergh, in Kenzie's death.
'Godwinsson,' mused Tulyet. 'Now that I find interesting.'
He went to a wall cupboard and poured two goblets of wine, inviting Bartholomew to sit on one of the hard, functional benches that ran along the walls of his office.
Once his guest was settled as comfortably as possible on the uncompromising wood, Tulyet perched on the edge of the table. He swirled the wine around in his goblet, and regarded Bartholomew thoughtfully.
'We should talk more often,' he said. 'Not only are two of the dead from last night students of Godwinsson — a friar and a Frenchman — but this morning, the Principal of Godwinsson told me that his wife is missing.'
'So, Mistress Lydgate has flown the nest,' mused Michael, leaning back in his chair and smiling maliciously. 'Well, I for one cannot blame her, although I would say the same if it were the other way around, and Lydgate had taken to his heels.'
'A most charitable attitude, Brother,' said Bartholomew mildly. 'It is good to see that compassion is not dead and gone in the Benedictine Order.'
Tulyet was sitting on the chest in Bartholomew's room at Michaelhouse sipping some of the sour wine left from breakfast. Because it was dark, and therefore after the early curfew imposed following the riot, Tulyet had escorted Bartholomew back to Michaelhouse. The streets had been silent and deserted, but Bartholomew had been unnerved to detect a very real atmosphere of unease and anticipation. Doors of houses were not fully closed and voices whispered within.
'This is an unpleasant brew,' said Tulyet, looking in distaste at the deep red wine in his goblet. 'I would have expected better from Michaelhouse.'
'Then you must go to the Senior Fellow's chamber,' said Michael. 'He is the man with the taste, and the purse, for fine wines, not a poor Benedictine and an impoverished physician. But tell us about Mistress Lydgate. What happened at Godwinsson last night?'
Tulyet shrugged. 'Master Lydgate was out all night and discovered his wife was missing when he returned this morning.'
'Why was the Principal of a University hostel abroad on such a night?' demanded Michael. 'Why was he not at home, ensuring his students kept out of mischief, and protecting his hostel? And more to the point, why is he bothering you about his missing wife?'
Tulyet shook his head. Tt just slipped out. He came to the Castle this morning to identify a couple of the people killed last night. He was in quite a temper, and ranted on to me for some time about the audacity of his students to get themselves killed when it was so inconvenient for him. When I asked him what he meant he blustered for a while. Eventually he revealed that his wife had left him.'
'And where did he say he was last night, instead of locking up his wife and students?' asked Michael.
'I was told, begrudgingly — for I was assured his whereabouts were none of the Sheriffs concern — that he had been dining at Maud's Hostel and had remained there when he saw how the streets seethed with violence.'
'Maud's?' asked Bartholomew, pricking up his ears.
'Two of my students claimed they stayed at Maud's last night. I can ask them to verify Lydgate's alibi.'
'Can you indeed?' said Tulyet, fixing bright eyes on Bartholomew. 'Master Lydgate will not be pleased to hear that. It is no secret that the Master of Maud's — Thomas Bigod — is not kindly disposed to secular law, and would never confirm or deny an alibi to help me. Bigod recently lost title to a wealthy manor in the secular courts, and is said to have missed out on a fortune because of it. He holds me, as the embodiment of secular law in the area, responsible for his misfortune.'
'He is none too fond of University law, either,' said Michael gleefully. 'Guy Heppel arrested him the other night for being drunk and disorderly. Unfortunately, he ended up being our guest for longer than necessary because Heppel lost the keys to the cells.'
Tulyet roared with laughter and clapped his hands.
'Excellent! I wish I could have seen that! Heppel, for all his physical frailty, knows how to give a man his just deserts. Bigod has been a thorn in my side for months, using every opportunity to thwart the course of law and justice.'
'And I imagine Lydgate is only too aware of Bigod's antipathy to you,' said Bartholomew, 'which is why Lydgate chose him to provide an alibi.' He went to the door and told a passing student to fetch Gray and Deynman.
Tulyet stroked his fair beard thoughtfully. 'All this is most interesting. I told Lydgate to liaise with the University Proctors regarding his dead students' remains.
He became abusive and said he did not want you near them because he was not convinced of your competence.
I was rather surprised.'
'Well, I am not,' said Michael. 'Master Lydgate and I have had cause to rub shoulders once or twice recently, and the experience was not a pleasant one for either of us. The man is little more than a trained ape in a scholar's gown.'
'What makes you think he is trained?' asked Bartholomew.
'I heard he bought his way through his disputations when he was a student here,' said Tulyet. 'Is that true?'
'I would imagine so,' replied Michael, not in the least surprised by the rumour. 'I doubt he earned his degree by the application of intellect. Perhaps that is another reason why he did not want the Proctors looking too carefully into his affairs. Anyway, we certainly did not part on the most amicable of terms — he probably overheard us discussing the burning of the tithe barn yesterday, and resents his ancient crime being resurrected after so long.'
'What title barn fire?' asked Tulyet curiously. 'No fires have been reported to me.'
'It happened a long time ago,' said Bartholomew, fixing Michael with a reproving look for his indiscretion.
'Not the one at Trumpington twenty-five years ago?' persisted Tulyet, not so easily dissuaded. 'I remember that! It was the talk of the town for weeks! An itinerant musician is said to have started it, but he escaped before he could be brought to justice. My father was Sheriff then.
Are you saying that Lydgate was involved? Was it Lydgate who let the culprit go?'
'No, Matt did that,' said Michael, laughing. 'Lydgate's role in the fire was a little more direct.'
'It was all a long time ago,' repeated Bartholomew, reluctant to discuss the matter with the 'embodiment of secular law'. He began to wish he had never broken his silence in the first place, and certainly would not have done had he known that the investigation into Kenzie's death would bring him so close to Lydgate and his Godwinsson students.
