The Colour of Evil: A Sebastian Foxley Medieval Murder Mystery

by Toni Mount

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The fifth labour of Heracles… a monumental task, cleaning up an impossible mess. Read it for yourself. ’Tis in that book of Greek myths upon the shelf.’

  ‘You’re too much the scholar for me tonight, cousin. I’m going to bed. Coming?’

  ‘Nay, I shall wait awhile. My mind be in too great a turmoil to be able to rest as yet.

  ‘Don’t sit here drowning in melancholy over this, Seb. I know you too well.’

  ‘The blackbird singing his vespers motet in yonder elder tree be company enough and ’tis as fine a lullaby as any. I shall not become mawkish, Adam, but I must think these matters through. Clear my head afore I may seek sleep.’

  When he had gone, I sat upon the upturned bucket we use to fill the water trough. The platters of elderflowers, ghostly in the twilight, scented the air. Moths hovered over the lavender and bats flitted through the dusk. As the blackbird sang his orisons, somewhere beyond our garden plot, a babe was crying and the Watch called out the hour of ten of the clock. Night was drawing down.

  Eventually, I would find slumber, but requiring peace, instead of climbing to Adam’s chamber, I retired to the bed I had shared with my beloved – the first time since I lost her. It seemed a foreign place now.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday, the thirteenth day of June

  The Foxley House

  After mass at St Michael’s, I confronted the pair, even afore breakfast, for fear my courage would desert me, if I delayed. Such a situation was so against my nature; Emily would have made a more efficient task of it.

  We were in the workshop. Kate sat at her desk whilst Jack leaned against Adam’s.

  ‘Sit down, Jack.’ I indicated Adam’s stool. I could not have the tall youngster looming over me. I stood by the collating table. ‘I know what came to pass betwixt the two of you,’ I said bluntly, not knowing how else to begin.

  ‘Didn’t do nuffink, did we?’ Jack said, scowling and folding his arms.

  Kate began to sob into her Sunday-best apron.

  ‘It was a mistake… Jack and me… I never thought…’

  ‘Indeed you did not. A moment’s consideration aforehand and all this could have been avoided.’

  ‘All wot? Nuffink ’appened; I telled you.’

  ‘I needs must inform Alderman Verney of his daughter’s fall from grace and you be guilty, likewise, Jack.’

  ‘No, Master Seb! I beg you: don’t tell my father. He’ll never forgive me. Please, please, I beg you not to.’ Kate threw herself at my feet.

  It was most disconcerting. I longed to tell her I would not inform him but how could I? This was so serious a matter: my lapse in the guardianship of the lass and her resultant loss of maidenhood. I felt sure her father would forgive her but never me for my negligence. Kate might fear her parent’s wrath but not half so much as I did.

  ‘Do not prostrate yourself, lass. This be my fault as much as yours. The blame lies heavy upon me: I should have observed how you were grown close and instructed you accordingly. I ought to have kept you both from the transgressions and follies of youth but I failed you. ’Tis I should beg your forgiveness for my insufficiency in maintaining the obligations of mastership.’

  ‘Your wot? You mean it’s your fault we wos fuckin’, cos we didn’t know no better?’

  ‘Just so.’ I did not reprimand him for his use of common ale-house speech. There seemed little point.

  ‘That’s alright then, ain’t it?’

  ‘Nay, Jack, ’tis far from being “all right”, as you say. The matter be rather “all wrong”. The merciful Christ Jesu alone knows how this will end but we have to begin to make amends this day. Thus, after dinner, Kate, you will come with me to your father’s house.’

  The lass made to object but I stilled her with a gesture to forebear.

  ‘As for you, Jack, you will remain here ’neath Adam’s eye, and attend the archery butts with him. There will be no escape to some tavern or other. Upon your return, you will recite the rosary aloud and contemplate your sin all the while we be gone to Walbrook. That be your penance – for the present, until Father Thomas imposes a proper one upon you.’

  ‘You ain’t goin’ t’ tell that mumblin’ ol’ fart of a priest as well, are you?’

  ‘Enough! Do not compound your misdeeds still further by insulting a man of the cloth. You will keep silent throughout dinner: thus, you can err no more. And, nay, I shall not inform the good Father. Rather, you will make your confession to him.’

  ‘I bloody won’t.’ Jack stood up, overturning the stool with a crash and strode towards the door.

  ‘Indeed, you will. Elsewise, you will be living on bread and water until you do.’

  Dinner was a sombre repast. Hardly a word was exchanged betwixt any of us. It was as if a great dark cloud hung over our heads. Little Dickon seemed to sense it too, grizzling fretfully, as was not his custom.

  ‘He has another tooth coming,’ Rose explained, then added – and not for the first time –‘I shouldn’t have told you.’

  I nodded, chewing and swallowing my food without any awareness of what I ate. I knew Rose regretted now having informed me, concerning Kate and Jack. But she was right to do so, however unfortunate the consequences.

  Alderman Edmund Verney’s House,

  Walbrook

  Master Verney greeted us, smiling hugely at the sight of his favoured younger daughter – the elder, like her mother, was never mentioned.

  ‘God’s blessings be upon you, Master Foxley, on this fine Lord’s Day. Kate, this is an unexpected pleasure. Come in, come in.’

  Was the day fine? I had not noticed. Unbeknownst, he was making this harder. It pained me to have to prick his bubble of joy at sight of us.

  ‘God’s blessings upon you also, Master Verney,’ I said, following him into his parlour.

  ‘Shall you have ale?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘I thank you but nay. Yet it may be needful after we have spoken.’

  ‘Well, that sounds serious. Sit down, if you will, Sebastian. Kate, see to the dogs in the yard…’

  ‘This concerns Kate most nearly, Master Verney. I would Kate remained, if you allow.’

  The alderman smiled no longer. My formality discomforted him, I saw.

  ‘What has she done amiss? Kate? What have you been doing that your master has so grave a countenance?’

  The lass burst into tears.

  ‘I fear the failing be mine as much as anyone’s. The lad, Jack, who lodges with us at Paternoster Row – he who was my sometime apprentice – he and Kate…’

  Her father leapt from his chair afore I completed the sentence and caught the lass such a blow across her ear, she fell to the floor, sobbing under his wrath.

  ‘You stupid little hussy!’ he roared. ‘You foolish wench. What are your marriage prospects now, eh? After all I’ve done to set you up in life… all my efforts… my money wasted on a slut!’ Spittle flew from his lips with every word. ‘I should throw you out on the street to beg your bread.’

  I wondered that he should so readily, upon an instant, accept his daughter’s misdeeds e’er they were even named. Why should he think the worst of her without due deliberation? Had she committed errors in the past of which he knew and kept secret?

  ‘The lass should not bear all the blame, Master Verney. I was remiss in my duties as her guardian and Jack, being older, led her astray…’

  ‘She’s a slut without prospects and when the bastard is born…’

  It took me a moment to realise what he was saying.

  ‘There be no child,’ I said hastily. ‘Kate and Mistress Glover – Rose – be certain of it.’

  ‘No child? Well, God be praised for that, at least.’ He resumed his seat. ‘Get up, Kate. Dry your eyes, for pity’s sake. Do some useful service: go fetch ale
for Master Foxley and me, then leave us. I need to think on this.’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’

  For some time, the silence stretched out. I heard sounds from the street beyond the window glass: children laughing at a game; men returning from archery practice at Smithfield, joshing each other over their prowess, or otherwise, with the bow, presumably.

  Kate served the ale afore withdrawing. Apart from my thanks for the drink, not a word was spoken.

  ‘’Tis not your fault, Sebastian.’ Master Verney said at last. ‘It seems that Kate is another wayward wench, as bad as her sister. I should have warned you of the likelihood. Maybe I ought to send her to Bedlam also.’

  ‘Oh, no…’

  The alderman glared at me for daring to disagree.

  ‘She is a grave disappointment to me,’ he continued. ‘And what am I to do with the wanton now? You’ll be terminating her indenture of apprenticeship forthwith, of course, as is your right, considering her disgraceful behaviour under your roof.’

  ‘Not so, master. I believed you would wish to end the agreement, owing to my negligence, but I be more than willing to allow the indenture to run its course. Kate be a most talented apprentice.’

  ‘It reflects badly upon me and would dash my hopes of being elected Lord Mayor in the near future. All the women of my family have been a sore trial to me over the years on that account. And now, just as I thought to have come through those previous difficulties, this new scandal will ruin my chances yet again. If you could overlook this matter? I’d be content to pay you a goodly sum, Sebastian, if you were willing to keep this quiet, take Kate back into your employ. Will a hundred marks ensure your silence?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Two hundred, then.’

  ‘Nay, sir. You mistake me…’

  ‘Two hundred and fifty marks.’

  ‘I want no money, Master Verney.’

  ‘You’re going to inform Lord Mayor Gardyner, whatever I offer? I can’t persuade you otherwise?’

  ‘I swear upon my oath that I shall not inform anyone. My reputation would suffer as much as yours. Kate may return as though none of this ever came to pass. You paid for her apprenticeship when the indenture was drawn up and enrolled at Guildhall. You owe me naught; I require no further monies of you. Never a word of this will pass my lips, for all our sakes. I would ask but one thing.’

  ‘Ask what you wish.’

  ‘Please keep your daughter here for this night. I do not want her under the same roof as Jack. Last eve, I could not rest, thinking how close they lay, even in quite separate chambers. I must make some other arrangements for the lad’s lodging. I dare not trust them together again, I fear.’

  ‘It shall be as you say, Sebastian. I’ll be forever in your debt, as long as I live.’

  ‘We all of us have been in error, one way or another. I have learned a salutary lesson, Master Verney.’

  He nodded and shook my hand right heartily as I took my leave of him. The matter had resolved itself better than I hoped.

  But what of Jack?

  Upon my way home, I visited Stephen Appleyard – until lately my father-by-marriage and currently Jack’s master in the craft of carpentry and joinery – to discuss some change of situation for the lad. Somehow, the matter had to be explained to the worthy carpenter without revealing the true nature of Jack’s misdeeds, in accordance with my oath sworn unto the alderman. As ever, I made for my back yet another cross that I must bear in silent suffering. Would I never learn?

  As we finished a goodly supper of ham in a spiced broth, I begged attention from all at the board.

  ‘Heed me, if you will.’ I tidied my napkin, folding it neatly and cleared my throat.

  Adam, Rose, Jack and Nessie sat silent, waiting. Little Dickon gurgled and waved his spoon. Gawain sat up, ears pricked.

  ‘There will be changes made here upon the morrow. They concern you most closely, Jack, but all will be involved.’

  ‘Wot’s it to do wiv me?’ Jack demanded, snatching another wedge of bread and stuffing it into his mouth, all unmannerly.

  ‘You will improve your behaviour at mealtimes for one thing forwhy, after breaking your fast in the morn, you will be sharing Master Appleyard’s board for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Wot! I’ll bloody starve, eating the pig’s swill and scrapings the widow serves up.’ Jack referred to the kindly neighbour who cooked Stephen Appleyard’s meals for him. Never having dined there, I could not say whether he spoke true.

  ‘Then that will be a further cause for you to regret your previous conduct in this house. You will also be lodging with Master Appleyard so, first thing in the morn, you will collect your necessary belongings from your attic and remove them to your new abode.’

  ‘You’re chuckin’ us out!’ Jack screeched. ‘You bastard! I wos finking you liked us all this time and you’re just as bad as all the bloody rest.’

  ‘It serves you right,’ Adam added, unhelpfully. ‘You brought this upon yourself.’

  ‘An’ wot about Kate?’ Jack went on. ‘I’ll wager a fortune you ain’t chuckin’ her out on the street.’

  ‘You are not being thrown onto the street, lad. I have arranged a change of bed and board for you is all. ’Tis not the end of our acquaintance,’ I assured him. I found it hard to prevent an apology spilling forth from my lips but I must not relent in this matter.

  ‘An’ wot of Kate?’ he repeated.

  ‘Kate’s situation be naught of your concern but she will continue to bide and work here, as afore. That be the reason for your leaving…’

  ‘I bloody knew it! That’s not fuckin’ fair, that ain’t. She did it too. She’s to blame an’ all.’

  ‘Kate has been punished sufficiently in quite other ways: tormented by fear for weeks that she was with child, then facing her father’s wrath and disgust. She too will be making her confession to the priest. She is not being let off lightly; you can be assured of it.’

  Rose nodded agreement.

  ‘Kate was beside herself with worry, Jack, as you most certainly were not. Only this last week could we be certain there was no babe to come.’

  Jack’s eyes flew wide. It was plain that the possibility had ne’er entered his heedless thoughts.

  I spoke into the vacant pause as Jack realised how much more grave his predicament might have been.

  ‘This matter will continue to concern us all – and harken well, Nessie – in that I swore an oath to Alderman Verney that this misdeed will ne’er be made known beyond these walls. I informed Master Appleyard that Jack has a serious disagreement, a significant difference of opinion with another of this household. Thus, ’tis better for the sake of peace that both parties have time to cool and settle their humours. I did not name the other party. The truth will remain a secret.

  ‘There will be no boasting of your bedchamber achievements in the tavern, Jack: Kate’s name will not be mentioned by you, ever. Do you understand? If I should learn of any rumour besmirching her reputation… well, I be no man of violence but I shall make an exception in that case, Jack.’ I turned to Nessie: ‘And I be aware of your too-loose tongue, Nessie. You dare to spread one iota of gossip in the market or at the conduit or anywhere else in the city and without and I shall see you regret it lifelong. Now, you will all promise, as I have done, ne’er to speak of this.’ I had fetched the Holy Gospel book from its niche in the parlour for this purpose, afore we supped. I set the Word of God upon a clean napkin in the midst of the board. ‘Each, in turn, you will place your right hand on the book and swear your oath to keep silent.’

  ‘What? Forever, master?’ Nessie asked.

  ‘Aye, forever. Other hand, Nessie.’

  Nessie made her oath, then Rose and Adam.

  ‘Now you, Jack, and remember, God be watching you and the life of your soul everlasting depends upon you maintaining your o
ath for eternity. You will end in the flames of hell, if you break it.’

  Jack extended his hand, reluctant as though the book itself would burn him; consume him in a cloud of pungent brimstone smoke. Mayhap Holy Writ could do that to a sinner, if God intended it so but, in this instance, it did not. Jack’s flesh remained whole and unsinged.

  I exhaled a long sigh. I had not realised how I held my breath.

  ‘That is done,’ I said, ‘And I pray that Christ Jesu, our most merciful Saviour, may grant us all the grace and strength to keep our oaths. God blessings be upon us all.’

  I dismissed everyone from the supper board and took up the Holy Gospel book. I saw that Adam observed me but I could not read his countenance.

  ‘You think I made over much of this matter? That I went too far in having you each swear your oath upon these Gospels? Yet I did not force you against your will, else an oath made under duress would not be binding. You could have refused.’

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, so unlike the bowed, narrow form of most scribes. His years as a countryman, labouring in the fields of Foxley village in Norfolk, made him different from the rest of our fellowship members.

  ‘In truth, cousin, I don’t know what else you could have done. Come on, ’tis a pleasant evening and a while yet until sunset. Let’s take Gawain to Smithfield whilst it’s quiet there. I heard tell that tomorrow, they’ll start setting up the field for the horse racing and stock sales that precede the Midsummer Revels for St John’s Day. You can tell me all about how Londoners celebrate the occasion. I’ll be excited to be there and see what befalls. Mercy says the bonfires are so numerous and so large it never gets dark in the city on Midsummer’s Night. Is that true?’

  Smithfield

  Having hailed the gate-keeper, we strolled out of Newgate and turned right, up towards Smithfield. I knew Adam had suggested this walk to raise my spirits and redirect my thoughts. He was a kindly, compassionate fellow, indeed. So I obliged him, telling of past revels but I took in the sights and sounds of a warm, summer eve for the most part.