The Colour of Evil: A Sebastian Foxley Medieval Murder Mystery

by Toni Mount

  Adam sighed and leafed through my sketches of ornamented letter forms.

  ‘This one,’ he said. ‘The first one you did.’

  ‘You be certain? What of this other?’ I pulled another sketch to the top of the pile.

  ‘Seb, if you’re not going to heed my opinion, why ask for it?’

  ‘’Tis rather a debate, I thought…’

  ‘Then you’ll have to decide.’

  ‘I shall ask Em what she…’

  Adam looked at me, a sorrowful expression moving across his strong features as a cloud passes afore the sun.

  I crumpled inwardly. When would I cease torturing myself in this way?

  ‘I’m going out,’ he said, turning aside. ‘What say you, we meet at that new tavern by the Bellhouse in an hour? We can try their ale; see if we approve the place.’

  ‘Aye. In an hour, then.’ I returned my attention to my little heap of letters, having to dab my eyes with my sleeve. Which of my designs would Em have approved? The choice would have to wait a while.

  Saturday afternoon was the time of the week I most dreaded. As well as the commission, the weekly accounts had to be done. However much care I took, no matter how diligent I had been in noting every transaction in the book – whether income or expenditure – the numbers never quite tallied to the last penny. This week – God be praised – the accounts were but a halfpenny in discrepancies and that to our credit, so no harm there. As usual, having put a few pence into my purse and left some in the box for dealings on Monday, I took most of the coin to our secret hidey-hole, Em’s and mine, behind the loose brick in the parlour chimney that none else knew of. Surprisingly, the leather bag hidden there was over-full already; no room for more. I wondered how come we were so parsimonious that little, if anything, had been spent of late.

  Instead, I went to our bedchamber above stairs where our second and yet more secret place was hidden. Left behind by the miserly Matthew Bowen, one-time master of this house, the heavy image of Our Lady in its leaden frame concealed an aumbry wherein we had discovered Bowen’s hoard of gold and silver. Much had been spent since, either by my brother Jude or by me on the fine glazed window there, a newly tiled roof and other repairs to the premises. Whenever there was coin to spare or a gold noble or such from my patron, the Duke of Gloucester, it went into the aumbry behind Our Lady for safe-keeping, against some unforeseen happenstance. I put the extra money away and replaced the heavy picture upon its hook, making certain it hung straight.

  The Sun in Splendour Tavern

  A new place of refreshment had opened for business, at the northern end of Old Change, beside the Bellhouse. It was likely to compete for custom with the Panyer Inn, across the way, in Paternoster Row, but I was never a great patron of the latter, giving it my custom for no more reason than its proximity to home. Adam and I determined to sample the wares and atmosphere of the new place, acquaint ourselves with the proprietor, whether we liked him sufficiently to become regular customers.

  The Sun in Splendour – for so it was called, after King Edward’s badge – smelled of fresh paint and new limewash. A piper played beside the door, enticing folk to pause, listen and come along in. Benches stood outside, already crowded upon this sunny Saturday afternoon. And no wonder: the first pot of ale was given free to customers, so we were informed by a comely wench carrying three brimming jugs in either hand to serve the customers.

  ‘Well, I’ll certainly come here again,’ Adam said, drinking deep of his introductory cup. We had found two stools within, left vacant as a pair of glovers I knew slightly from Ivy Lane departed. Whilst some folk preferred to sit outside, there was yet hardly space left to sharpen a quill indoors.

  ‘The ale will not be free in future,’ I said.

  ‘Ale? What of it? That pretty wench yonder is more enticing than free drink.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  ‘You will be marrying soon, Adam. Your bride will warm your bed…’ The ale was a fair brewing, I discovered, malty and refreshing.

  ‘Aye, but I’m not wed yet. Besides, a man needs a little practice. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Mercy on our wedding night for lack of rehearsal, would I now?’

  ‘I know not what Mother Church has to say on the matter of rehearsing for your nuptials.’

  ‘Knowing Mother Church, I doubt they ever thought of the possibility, being no more than a bundle of dry old sticks. They’d be content if we were all monks and lived as hermits; never mind that mankind would die out within a generation. They seem to forget that the Almighty decreed we should ‘Go forth and multiply’ and I’m more than willing to do my best to obey His command.’ He saw my expression and shook his head. ‘Come on, Seb: I’ve not taken any vows of chastity. Have a heart, cousin. Don’t think the worse of me. I’ll be ever faithful to Mercy afterwards.’

  ‘I suppose, the lass be most fair to look upon… fine eyes, indeed, and a shapely nose…’

  ‘I had not looked so high, as yet,’ Adam admitted, grinning.

  I feared he was acquiring city ways and prayed he would not become a philanderer, like my brother Jude.

  ‘Beware you do not take more than you bargained for into the marriage bed.’

  ‘She looks clean enough.’

  ‘I do not believe you can tell so easily. Remember those brazen hussies from The Mermaid not so long since. Was it not the case that the most innocent-looking was riddled with sores and had to be barred from plying her trade, so Thaddeus Turner said afterwards.’

  ‘You want I should interrogate her first? Have a surgeon make an inspection?’

  ‘Just be careful, cousin, is all.’

  Adam left his stool, moving to cross the wench’s winding path among the outstretched legs, booted feet, assorted benches, trestle-boards and sprawled dogs. She was laden with empty jugs and cups but he touched her elbow. She turned to him, smiling, most likely expecting the order for more drink. But Adam was not the only man to want her attention.

  As I watched, another fellow’s arm snaked about her waist, drawing her towards him. She turned away from Adam, greeting the other’s proprietary gesture with a laugh, bending close to speak in his ear.

  I saw the fellow’s face: impossibly handsome, fine-featured. He was lithe and tall as he rose to his feet. Adam was good-looking in a rough, countryman’s way but could ne’er outshine this Adonis with his elegance of gesture and sweet turn of phrase – not that I could hear his words above the racket of the tavern but they pleased the wench right well, to judge from her expression.

  Oddly, I felt I knew his face. Yet that made no sense. I should have recalled such symmetry of feature, the perfect jawline, the faultless brow.

  ‘Damn his eyes!’ Adam cursed, coming back to his stool, scowling fit to sour the ale remaining in my cup. He kicked the trestle, rocking the table and toppling someone else’s cup – empty, fortunately. Gawain shot to his feet from beneath the board, fearing it would fall upon him.

  ‘Easy, cousin.’ I put my hand upon his arm but he shook me off.

  ‘Did you see what that sow’s son did? The bastard! I’ll have his guts to lace my shoes. He could see I was speaking to her first. How dare he grab her away like that?’

  ‘Mayhap, they be related,’ I suggested, soothing Gawain with a pat as I finished my ale.

  ‘Related? Aye, as I’m related to the queen, no doubt.’

  ‘I think we should leave now, afore matters get out of hand.’

  ‘Nothing’s going to get out of hand. I’ll simply rip out his liver and that’ll be the end of it.’

  ‘Nay, Adam. I forbid it. You have more sense than to make trouble over a pair of red lips. Come, Gawain. Home.’ I made towards the door, willing Adam to follow me without more ado.

  Outside, we passed St Michael’s, making for home. My cousin’s glaring look betrayed his mood, as did the hefty kick he applied to our back g
ate.

  ‘You break it; you mend it,’ I warned him.

  ‘I want to know that bastard’s name,’ he growled. ‘We’ll need it for his grave marker when I’ve done with him.’

  ‘Forget him, Adam. He be unworthy of your ire. Do not let him trouble your thoughts.’

  ‘Easy for you to say. You didn’t have a willing wench dragged from your arms by that… that jumped up jackanapes. He needs putting in his place.’

  ‘Well, let some other fellow do it. I do not wish to be bailing you out of the Sheriff’s Counter on a charge of breaking the king’s peace.’

  ‘The king’s peace be damned. ’Tis the devil’s neck that requires breaking.’

  ‘The strangest thing is, I know his face, yet I cannot place him.’

  ‘But you never forget a face, Seb. Make yourself remember and tell me his name.’

  ‘Mayhap, I never knew it.’

  The Foxley House

  The evenings remaining light this close to midsummer, Adam had gone to Distaff Lane to spend time with his intended, Mercy Hutchinson. Jack was also from home, heaven knew where. Kate was in the kitchen with her drawing board, keeping company with Nessie. I could hear them giggling at the other end of the passage, the way young lasses do.

  Little Dickon was abed, so Rose and I sat at our ease in the parlour.

  ‘Kate would seem to have regained her merry humour,’ I said, as a louder burst of laughter from the kitchen roused me from my study of Vegetius – aye, I was yet at work upon a Saturday eve.

  Rose looked up from her neat stitchery, mending a tear in one of Jack’s shirts.

  ‘Aye. She is happier, now her flowers have come down at long last.’

  ‘Her flowers?’

  ‘Women’s monthly flowers.’

  ‘Oh, aye. What of them?’ I did my best to sound worldly-wise but, in truth, all I knew of such matters was that they began when a woman reached marriageable age, ceased when she was with child and betwixt those times the Church forbade husband and wife having bedsport whenever they flowed.

  ‘It could have been shock or grief,’ Rose was saying, although she sounded somewhat hesitant and fidgeted with her sewing. ‘Such things can cause them to cease a while, you understand?’

  ‘At least we can be certain our innocent maid cannot be with child.’

  ‘Ow! Now look, I have pricked my finger.’ Rose set down her mending and sucked her finger, wanting to avoid blood upon the shirt. ‘No, of course she can’t be. Anyhow, the herbs put her to rights. All is well with Kate now, her humours restored.’

  ‘Meeting Master Collop’s apprentice this morn did no harm either: the lass was all smiles for him. Did you see him? Hugh Gardyner, the Lord Mayor’s nephew: a good lad, by the look of him. He has my master’s approval, leastwise.’

  ‘No, I didn’t see him. You think they might be a suitable match?’ Rose resumed her sewing.

  ‘What? I had not thought so far, though he be more her equal than Jack, for certain. But Kate be young yet for marriage.’

  ‘But old enough, Seb. You should have a word with her father. We don’t want anything untoward to happen, do we?’

  ‘Untoward? But Rose, Kate be a good lass. I know she has – or had – an affection for Jack but naught more than that. Kate knows to keep herself pure for her future husband and if Jack ever attempted… anything inappropriate, she would send him off with a buffet to the ears, or scream. As for Jack, if I suspected aught amiss, he would pay dear for his errors.’

  Rose stitched silently and I returned my attentions to reading about Roman military deployment. I know not why but I found it strangely absorbing, though such things held no interest for me otherwise.

  ‘You would make Jack pay? How?’ Rose asked after a while.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I turned a page.

  At my feet, Gawain twitched, dreaming of herding sheep or chasing conies, most like.

  ‘If Jack did something amiss with Kate.’

  ‘I have not considered. Since naught has occurred, there be no reason why I should.’

  Rose wore so serious an expression, I closed the book and leaned forward.

  ‘Has some incident come to pass that I know not of?’ I enquired, lowering my voice – not that there was anyone to overhear.

  She nodded.

  ‘Why did you not inform me of this?’

  ‘Because of Emily. She lay upon her deathbed the day it happened. Your mind had to be upon other matters, Seb. Besides, I said I wouldn’t tell, yet the secret gnaws away at me… Now it is over, I feel I must speak of it.’

  ‘Kate and Jack? Together?’

  Rose was winding the shirt around her hands in anguish, turning it into a mess of wrinkled cloth.

  ‘I found them in our bedchamber. You may recall that Sunday when the window stuck half-open. We asked Jack to mend it. For whatever reason Kate went to the chamber. I caught them there, upon the bed, their clothing all in disarray.’

  ‘Jack forced himself upon her.’

  ‘She says not. She consented but thought ’twas just a game.’

  The book slipped from my grasp to the floor, catching Gawain on the rump and rousing him from slumber with a start. I could barely comprehend what Rose was telling me.

  ‘Do you mean she has lost her maidenhood?’

  Rose nodded.

  ‘That cannot e’er be recovered! Dear heaven… what a coil is this? However can I excuse my failure to protect her when her father learns of it? Her future be in ruins; our reputation in ashes when the guild hears what manner of master I be that cannot keep safe a young lass in his care.’ I felt I might tear out my hair. Then a worse possibility occurred to me. ‘I pray you: tell me she is not with child.’

  ‘No, not any longer… if indeed she ever was. As I explained, her courses have returned, whether by Nature’s hand alone or with the aid of the herbs. I feared to tell you, Seb, knowing the trouble this would cause.’

  I rubbed my aching temples. Trouble, indeed.

  ‘You should have told me of this afore now.’

  ‘How could I? You were deep in grief. Besides, we knew not whether any harm had been done: a babe, I mean.’

  ‘Harm? She has been deflowered. Is that not harm enough? I shall have to confront the pair.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I know not.’

  How long I sat, I cannot say. My thoughts were in turmoil, my humours seething. I could not find words to speak.

  Eventually, I left the parlour and went out through the shop door. I intended to go around to the garden plot, the better to think, but did not dare go by way of the kitchen where I heard Kate laughing yet. If I encountered her at this moment, I could not trust my tongue to avoid uttering words I would regret upon the morrow.

  But my respite in the balmy summer’s eve was not to be. In the side alley that led to our back gate, Adam caught up with me.

  ‘Well, cousin!’ he said, slapping me on the back. ‘What a wondrous evening this is. Mercy and me… we…’

  I rounded upon him, shoving him away.

  ‘Do not tell me!’ I yelled. ‘I do not want to know about you and Mercy. ’Tis not my business what you do. I do not care!’

  ‘Easy, Seb. Don’t have forty fits on my account. I was going to tell you’ve we’ve set the date for our wedding.’

  ‘Well and good. Then you can move out of this house where chaos reigns and the Devil rules. Leave me to sort out this hellish mess.’

  ‘What mess? What’s got you all of a lather, Seb?’

  ‘Kate and Jack.’ I pushed the gate and went into our yard.

  Adam followed me.

  ‘Ah, so you’ve found them out at last. Gone too far, have they? I knew they would.’

  ‘You knew about them?’ I propped myself against the apple tree, weary of
a sudden.

  ‘Aye. Caught them kissing more than once. It was getting somewhat hot and passionate betwixt them.’

  ‘And you never thought to tell me?’

  ‘Well, I warned them; threatened Jack if he didn’t behave. Clearly, that wasn’t enough.’

  ‘So, as ever, I be the last to learn of what goes on under my own roof.’

  ‘Sorry, Seb. You had Emily to think of at the time.’

  ‘There was the possibility that Kate had conceived. I suppose you knew that also?’

  ‘No. Christ, Seb. What a bloody fix that would be. She hasn’t, has she?’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘God be thanked for that.’

  ‘All the same, I shall have to inform her father. Likely, he will terminate her apprenticeship straightway upon learning I be unfit to stand as her guardian after this. I shall be sad to lose her. She has such talent as would be a pity to waste. And she being a lively lass, brightening the days.’

  ‘Do you have to tell him? Does anyone outside this house need to know?’

  ‘Oh, Adam, do not tempt me to compound my failure with additional sins. This be hard enough to resolve as it stands.’ I picked a sprig of rosemary from the bush Em had nurtured so well. Rosemary for remembrance, as they say. It would ever recall her to mind. I breathed deeply of its cleansing scent. ‘Have you ever copied out the Gospel of St Luke, cousin?’

  ‘Aye. Why?’

  ‘And did you ever read the words you wrote?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Do you recall chapter twelve, verse two?’

  ‘Not especially. What are trying to say, Seb?’

  ‘St Luke tells us: “There be naught concealed that shall not be revealed; neither hidden that shall not be known”. You think we could keep Kate’s secret indefinitely? That it will not be far worse when the truth is uncovered – as it surely will be – forwhy we attempted to withhold it?’

  ‘Mm, well it’ll be your decision, one way or the other.’

  I sighed.

  ‘Ever the last to know, yet it falls to me to cleanse the filth from the Augean stables.’