Will came nearer, flanked by Jacob. 'I have had enough of this! '
He turned to nod to Henry to dispatch Michael. See-J, ing him momentarily distracted, Bartholomew propelled*‹ himself forward with an almighty yell, crashing into him? and knocking him off balance. Will fell into Jacob, who I dropped to his knees with a shriek as he cradled his 4 injured arm. Michael's hands suddenly shot out, one;f grasping Henry's throat, the other the arm that held fr the dagger. As Henry began to choke with a series of Ј unpleasant gurgles, Bartholomew turned his attention back to Will. Will lunged with his knife and Bartholomew jumped away.
'What is in all this for you, Will?' asked Bartholomew, flinching backwards as Will lunged a second time. 'Why should you risk your livelihood for d'Ambrey?'
'He once paid a surgeon to set my broken leg,' said Will, circling Bartholomew like a dog. 'I have always deeply regretted that I did nothing to help him when he was accused all those years ago. It is a second chance, and I will go with him when he leaves tonight. I will no longer be a mere servant, taken for granted and given the most menial of tasks to perform, but a member of a respectable
household, the head of which will be the saintly Master d'Ambrey.'
'But the man has changed!' said Bartholomew, his feet crunching on broken pottery as he ducked away from Will's dagger. 'Saints do not kill and order the desecration of the dead!'
'Shut up!' hissed Will. He darted forward and caught hold of Bartholomew's tabard to hold him still.
'D'Ambrey must be held to blame for all the deaths that occurred in the riots he inspired,' persisted Bartholomew breathlessly, tearing away from Will's grip as a swipe of the dagger ripped his shirt. 'Including that of your brother.
He died in the first riot, I understand.'
He jerked backwards to avoid another furious hacking blow and stumbled over a broken chair. Will was now incensed and his eyes flashed with loathing. Instead of distracting the man, Bartholomew had succeeded in enraging him to the point where any chance of escape seemed hopeless. Off-balance, Bartholomew crashed to the floor, while Will's arm flicked down and under in a swift, efficient movement aimed at the physician's unprotected stomach.
Even as the knife flashed towards him, there was a loud thump, and Will's head jolted forward. Will looked as surprised as Bartholomew, before crumpling into a heap on the floor. Jacob still sat hunched over his injured arm while Henry lay massaging his bruised neck.
Across the hall, Michael sank down on to a bench and closed his eyes. Shakily, Bartholomew climbed to his feet and joined him.
'Thank the Lord you like reading heavy books,' said Michael, pointing to where the Galen lay next to Will.
Michael had hurled it in the nick of time.
As Bartholomew approached the door to leave Valence Marie's hall, he froze, and edged back into the shadows.
There were voices — Thorpe's and d'Ambrey's, complete with the lilting Scottish accent of Father Andrew. Bartholomew opened the door slightly so he could hear what was being said.
'I am most distressed that the relic has disappeared,' d'Ambrey was saying, wringing his hands and appearing every inch the benevolent old friar. 'Most distressed indeed. I wanted to see it again before I left.'
'You are leaving Cambridge, Father?' asked Thorpe politely, but without interest. He had other things to worry about than an elderly friar who had missed his opportunity to view the relic. But the friar's concern was insistent — as well it might be.
'Do you have an idea of where it might be?' he said.
'Can I help you look for it?'
'You are most kind, Father,' said Thorpe. 'But we will manage. We have already turned the College upside- down in our quest to locate it — you should see the state of our poor hall! I am now on my way to discuss the matter with f; the Chancellor.' |; 'I know you will guard that relic and see that it is awarded the honour it deserves,' continued d'Ambrey.
Thorpe looked at him sharply. D'Ambrey was overplaying his role, enjoying too much the opportunity to promote himself as the object of reverence.
He realised the danger, and bowed to Thorpe before taking his leave. He was shown out of the main gate by one of the students and Bartholomew saw him glancing this way and that as he walked, as though the hand might appear suddenly in the mud and refuse that lay ankle-deep in the yard. Thorpe dallied, his students milling about him restlessly.
'Has de Wetherset stolen the hand?' whispered Bartholomew to Michael as he watched them. 'Or Heppel?'
Michael shrugged. 'Possibly. What is Thorpe doing?
Why does he not leave? We should follow d'Ambrey before he escapes us completely, but we cannot do so with Thorpe prowling around outside. His students are vengeful — they would hang us in an instant if Thorpe gave them his blessing, and even Father Eligius's claims that you are mentally deficient will not save us.'
Bartholomew regarded him sharply. 'Exactly when was it that you recovered your senses from Thorpe's blow?' he asked.
Michael looked uncomfortable. 'I am not sure. But I had to wait for the right moment before I acted.'
'You cut it very fine, Brother,' said Bartholomew, regarding the monk uneasily.
'The truth was that you were doing such a fine job of wringing a confession from Will that I decided to wait a while. He would never have been so verbose had I leapt to my feet and overpowered Henry. He was bragging to you simply because he thought he was going to kill you, and that you would never be in a position to reveal anything he had said.'
'He almost killed me several times during his confession!' said Bartholomew, aghast. 'How could you put Will's paltry revelations over my life?'
'Come now, Matt!' said Michael impatiently. 'Do not be so melodramatic! I knew what I was doing. I saved your life, did I not? And together we overwhelmed that unwholesome trio there.'
He glanced over his shoulder to where Will, Henry and Jacob sat with their backs to the serving screen, secured there with ropes that had been used to suspend the tapestries from the walls. Henry and Jacob were subdued, but Will was livid. He struggled and heaved against his bonds, making guttural sounds through the bandages with which Bartholomew had gagged him.
Bartholomew turned his attention back to the yard, and gave a start of horror as he saw Thorpe begin to walk towards the hall. His heart lurched in anticipation of being discovered free, and he was momentarily frozen with fear. Sensing his alarm, Will's struggles increased, and Michael grabbed Will's abandoned dagger, racing across to the serving screen to wave it menacingly at the gagged servant before Thorpe heard the noise.
Thorpe drew closer, and Bartholomew looked around in panic, wondering how they might escape. There was no other way out. Bartholomew knew instinctively that if Thorpe discovered they had overpowered his servants, he would give them into the custody of his vengeful students, and that would be their death warrant. As Thorpe's hand reached out to push open the hall door, a scholar emerged from the Master's quarters, carrying a bundle of cloth. Thorpe's hand dropped from the door and he began to walk away. Bartholomew was so relieved, his legs turned to jelly, and he had to lean against the wall for support. Next to Will, Michael dropped the dagger in revulsion.
Bartholomew gave the monk a weak smile. 'Master Thorpe does not want to confront the Chancellor improperly attired,' he explained shakily. 'He was waiting for a student to fetch him his best robe.'
Michael gnawed at his finger-nails. 'We will lose d'Ambrey if Thorpe does not leave soon!'
While they waited for Thorpe to be satisfied with the way his gown fell, Bartholomew crammed bandages and salves back in his medical bag and tucked the Galen into one of the side pockets. Michael fretted at the door.
By the time Bartholomew had finished, Thorpe and his entourage had gone and Michael was already across the courtyard and out of the main gates. As they emerged into the High Street, they caught a glimpse of d'Ambrey's grey habit disappearing up the Trumpington Road.
They set off after him, pausing briefly to tell the guards on the gate that there were three felons secured in Valence Marie, and that Tulyet should follow as soon as possible. After a moment's hesitation, Michael tossed a small child a penny and sent her with a message to the Chancellor and Heppel.
'Wicked waste of a penny,' muttered Michael. 'De Wetherset will be in a business meeting and his clerks will be too frightened to disturb him on our behalf, while Heppel's presence while we apprehend a killer will be more
