Udela’s words filled Bartholomew’s mind – of a monster whose left hand was more deadly than its right. Reacting instinctively, he flung himself towards the weaker one. His opponents howled in horror as the branch crashed among them, and one went silent when it caught him on the top of the head.
Then Cynric was among them, wielding his sword like a demon and howling in Welsh. The surviving attackers turned and fled.
It felt like an age before Bartholomew, riding pillion behind Cynric, saw the lights of Peterborough twinkling in the distance. They arrived to find a huge crowd had gathered at the Abbey Gate, where the defensores were telling their story. Voices were raised in shock and recrimination, but Prior Yvo was wholly incapable of imposing order. Ramseye stood to one side, arms folded, as he watched his rival struggle for some semblance of control.
The safe arrival of the Bishop’s Commissioners was met with a variety of reactions. Clippesby, William and the common monks surged forward with a delighted cheer; Appletre sang a hymn of thanksgiving; Lullington shrugged; Ramseye’s face wore its usual mask of inscrutability; and Nonton raised a flask and took a gulp from it. Henry and Yvo exchanged a brief glance, then joined those who were clamouring their relief.
‘The defensores claimed you were dead,’ said Henry, crossing himself. ‘That they narrowly escaped after their efforts to protect you had failed.’
Bartholomew gave the soldiers a hard stare. They glowered back defiantly, making it clear that they would vigorously deny any accusations of cowardice.
‘I am glad to see you unscathed,’ said Yvo, although he spoke without warmth. ‘I was just arranging for Nonton to collect your corpses. And Pyk’s.’ He turned to the cellarer, who was in the process of draining whatever was in his flask. ‘Are you ready? The sooner you set out, the sooner you can return.’
Nonton frowned his bemusement. ‘You still want me to go?’
‘Of course! It would be improper to leave Pyk in a ditch another night.’
‘Besides, we do not want to lose him again,’ added Ramseye with a look that was impossible to interpret.
‘True,’ nodded Henry. ‘Obviously, the rogues who attacked Matt and Michael are the same as the ones who killed Pyk. They may try to dispose of the evidence.’
‘Are you sure Nonton and his men will be safe out there with outlaws lurking?’ asked Appletre worriedly. ‘Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow. I am sure Pyk would not–’
‘Our brave defensores will not be defeated a second time,’ said Yvo. It was difficult to tell whether he was being ironic. ‘This is the sort of thing we hired them for, after all.’
‘To collect murder victims in the middle of the night?’ asked Michael.
Lullington stepped forward, all bristling self-importance. ‘You cannot be sure that Pyk was murdered. He probably died of natural causes.’
‘And then hid himself in a ditch?’ retorted Michael. ‘Besides, my Corpse Examiner says he was murdered, and that is good enough for me.’
‘The Corpse Examiner,’ muttered Lullington, giving Bartholomew a glance that was far from friendly. ‘I might have known.’
Appletre addressed Yvo, his face sombre. ‘I want it on record that I do not believe this is a good idea. The living are more important than retrieving a man who has been dead for a month. Nonton may be marching into danger.’
‘Appletre is right,’ agreed Henry. ‘These villains will be vengeful and angry after their failure to kill the Bishop’s Commissioners, and–’
‘All the more reason to collect Pyk tonight, then,’ interrupted Yvo, waving away their concerns with an impatient flick of his hand. ‘Lest they vent their spleen on his body. And while Nonton is out, he can look for Robert. It is high time we proved him dead.’
‘In the dark?’ Nonton’s voice dripped contempt. ‘Pyk was so well concealed that he evaded all our previous daylight searches, so how can we expect to find Robert when we cannot see?’
‘Well, try,’ snapped Yvo. ‘That is an order, and I am in charge here. You and your louts will take no more orders from Ramseye until after the election. Is that clear?’
Nonton’s dark, angry expression said it was, although Ramseye’s only reaction was a small and rather secretive smile. Bartholomew noticed that the defensores who had been detailed to accompany the cellarer were more of the burly ones, said to be lesser warriors than their smaller counterparts, and he could only suppose that Nonton favoured brawn over military competence for this particular mission as well.
‘Nonton can collect the robber who died, too,’ said Michael. ‘Then we shall–’
‘You killed one?’ cried Henry in horror. ‘But you are a monk!’
‘I am aware of that,’ snapped Michael, treating him to a look that had subdued many a recalcitrant student. Henry, however, only stared back with accusing eyes. ‘But it was an accident – part of a tree fell on him.’
‘Who was he?’ asked Ramseye. ‘Did you recognise him?’
‘No,’ replied Michael shortly. ‘We removed his face-scarf, but he was unfamiliar. Of course, that means nothing – we do not know many people in Peterborough.’
‘I shall ride with Nonton,’ announced Appletre suddenly. He swallowed so hard that it sounded like a gulp. ‘I am better at negotiating than him.’
‘Negotiating?’ asked Nonton in confusion. ‘Why would we want to do that?’
‘To avoid violence,’ explained Appletre, his usually rosy cheeks devoid of colour in the flickering torchlight. ‘I have a better chance of persuading these villains to stand down than a man who looks ready for a spat.’
‘But I am ready for a spat,’ declared Nonton belligerently. ‘And how will you negotiate, exactly? By singing to them?’
‘Better that than knocking them senseless with wine fumes,’ muttered Walter the cook. Lullington sniggered, and Yvo’s eyes flashed briefly with amusement.
‘You cannot go, Appletre,’ whispered Henry, appalled. ‘You will be … let me do it.’
‘No,’ said Appletre with quiet dignity. ‘I appreciate the dangers, believe me – I am not a brave man. But I am treasurer now, not just a precentor, and I know my duty.’
‘Good,’ said Yvo, with a speed that made Bartholomew wonder whether the Prior wanted to be rid of the man he had so recently promoted. Could it be because Appletre intended to vote for Ramseye in the looming election? ‘Off you go then.’
‘Perhaps you should accompany them as well, Sir John,’ suggested Ramseye slyly. ‘I am sure our men would appreciate having a knight among their number.’
‘No,’ said Lullington quickly, while the expressions of the defensores also suggested they would be happier without whatever the corrodian could provide. ‘It is better that I stay here, and coordinate the operation.’
Before anyone could ask him what was to be coordinated, Nonton slurred a command and his men set off, one or two riding, but most on foot. Cynric offered to go with them, to guide them to the body, but was curtly informed that they knew where the Dragon Tree was and did not need a visitor to tell them.
‘It is a pity the abbey was not so assiduous when Robert went missing,’ remarked Michael. ‘Because then the Bishop would never have needed to appoint Commissioners.’
Once Nonton, Appletre and the defensores had gone, Yvo ordered his monks to bed. They went reluctantly, giving the impression that they would rather have waited for their people to return. Henry was one of the last to go, gazing anxiously at the gate, as if he thought he might conjure them back through it if he stared long enough. He asked Yvo for permission to keep a vigil, and his expression became piously exultant as he aimed for the church.