‘So you hate the French, too,’ said Bartholomew in distaste, watching Aynton regard the Chancellor uncertainly. ‘You stabbed Paris, the Girards and–’
‘I did not,’ interrupted de Wetherset. ‘I imagine that was Heltisle’s doing. I thought he was strong and able, but he proved to be a petty despot with no redeeming features.’
At that point, Heltisle astonished everyone by sitting up with a bellow of rage, and stabbing the Chancellor in the foot with one of his metal pens.
* * *
Outside in the street, it was growing dark. Some folk retreated inside their houses, praying the trouble would pass them by, but far more poured out to join in whatever was about to happen. In St Mary the Great, Heltisle’s pen sliced through de Wetherset’s foot and pinned it to the floor beneath. The Chancellor shrieked in pain and shock, and flailed at Heltisle with a knife. One swipe scored a deep gash across Heltisle’s wrist, which began to bleed copiously.
‘Stop!’ roared Aynton, aiming his crossbow at them. ‘You two did not act to strengthen the University against the town, but to benefit yourselves. You disgust me!’
‘Thank God!’ breathed Michael fervently. ‘Now perhaps we can–’
‘Of course we did it for the University,’ snarled de Wetherset, his face a mask of agony. ‘Or I did. Heltisle acted for himself.’
‘Lies!’ cried Heltisle. ‘There is no blood on my hands. Everything I did was on his orders – hiring incompetent beadles, adjusting the trade agreements, antagonising the town–’
‘And how willingly you did it,’ sneered de Wetherset. ‘You enjoyed every moment, and would have done more if I had not curbed your excesses.’
Heltisle gave him a look of disgust before addressing Aynton. ‘Arrest these three idiots. None are fit to govern, so I shall assume command. Well? What are you waiting for?’
‘Do you still have the key to this office, Brother?’ asked Aynton. ‘Good! We shall lock this pair inside, then set about mending the harm they have done.’
‘No, you will obey me,’ shrieked Heltisle, cradling his injured arm. ‘I am in charge. You heard what they said – Michael is so inept that he did not notice blood on a pair of boots, while de Wetherset is a murderer. You should have shot them the moment you arrived.’
‘I am glad I did not,’ said Aynton fervently. ‘It took me a while to separate truth from lies, but my eyes are open now. Step away from the prisoners, Matthew. Do not even think of tending their wounds.’
‘We cannot leave de Wetherset impaled,’ said Bartholomew tiredly. ‘And Heltisle will bleed to death unless I sew him up.’
‘It is more important to tell Tulyet that we have identified the authors of all this mayhem,’ said Aynton. ‘Then peace will reign once more.’
‘It is too late,’ said Michael bitterly. ‘The wheels of unrest have been set in motion, and nothing will stop us and the town from turning on each other now.’
‘Good!’ crowed de Wetherset. ‘And when it is over, and you need a strong leader to crush what remains of the town, I shall lead the University to victory.’
‘Actually, there will be no harm to us or the town,’ countered Aynton, and looked pleased with himself. ‘Because we have a common enemy – the French. I have spent the whole day telling everyone that the Dauphin is poised to invade, so we must stand together to defeat him. That is how we shall restore the harmony between us.’
‘You have done what?’ breathed Michael, aghast. ‘Is that why some foundations have joined forces with townsfolk, making the situation more complicated than ever?’
‘Yes, and it is a good thing,’ Aynton assured him, beaming happily. ‘It means no one will attack anyone else lest he hurts a friend. There is no French army waiting in the fens, of course. I just expanded on a false rumour that was circulating earlier in the week.’
‘What false rumour?’ asked Bartholomew uneasily.
‘That the Spital is full of the Dauphin’s spies. Do not look so worried, Matthew. It is not true. I met Warden Tangmer yesterday, and he assured me that no foreigner has ever set foot inside his gates.’
Bartholomew regarded him in horror. ‘He was lying! There are women and children there – folk who are supposed to leave at nightfall.’ He glanced at the window. ‘About now, in fact.’
Aynton swallowed hard. ‘But they cannot – they will be seen. Angry folk have been gathering there all afternoon, and the Spital is now surrounded by a sizeable mob. I assumed it would not matter – and better damage to a remote foundation than us or the town.’
‘It looks as though I shall have my bloodbath after all,’ said de Wetherset, and laughed.
Bartholomew refused to leave the Chancellor pinioned to the floor, so valuable moments were lost releasing him. Unfortunately, Heltisle had rammed the pen home with such force that it had shattered, and Bartholomew was far from sure he had removed all the fragments. Meanwhile, Heltisle stubbornly refused to let him tend his bleeding arm.
‘I would sooner die,’ he snarled defiantly.
‘Send him home, Brother,’ said Bartholomew, tired of trying to convince him. ‘Tell his students to summon a medicus urgently or they will be looking for a new Master tomorrow.’
‘Very well,’ said Michael. ‘But I am not doing the same for de Wetherset. He can sit in the proctors’ gaol until I decide what to do with him.’
He had fetched beadles and stretchers while Bartholomew had been busy. Without further ado, Heltisle and de Wetherset were loaded up and toted away. The beadles made no effort to be gentle, and the faces of both men were grey with pain. When they had gone, Aynton turned to Bartholomew and Michael.
‘Go to the Spital,’ he ordered. ‘I will stay here and help the Sheriff.’
‘It should be me who stays,’ objected Michael, sure Aynton would be of scant use to Tulyet.
‘Please,’ said Aynton quietly. ‘I was an unwitting help-meet, but my conscience pricks and I must make amends. Besides, now de Wetherset and Heltisle are arrested, it means I am Acting Chancellor – a role I shall fill until you can arrange an election. Ergo, I outrank you. Now go – you have innocents to save.’
‘Do you trust him?’ asked Bartholomew, as he and Michael hurried through the now-dark church towards the door. ‘He took a long time to choose a side – it should have been obvious that de Wetherset was guilty long before Aynton made his decision.’
‘I have never trusted him. You are the one who thought he was harmless. But I sent Meadowman to Dick with a full account of what happened, and Dick is someone I do trust. He will keep Aynton in line.’
‘Did you believe de Wetherset when he denied stabbing Paris and the others?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘I did – he confessed to the rest, so why baulk at those?’
Michael nodded tersely. ‘The culprit is not Heltisle, either. He is a vile individual, but not one to poison children. Do we have any suspects left?’
‘Aynton,’ replied Bartholomew unhappily. ‘But there is nothing we can do about him now. We must wait until we have rescued the peregrini, whose only crime was hoping to find a place where they could live free of fear and persecution.’
Night had fallen at last, and the High Street and the alleys off it were full of whispers and bobbing torches. They added a tension to the atmosphere that did nothing to aid the cause of peace. Michael’s beadles were everywhere, ordering scholars and townsfolk alike back to their homes, although with scant success.
‘It is hopeless,’ reported one in despair. ‘The only good thing is the rumour about French spies at the Spital, as it has drawn many would-be rioters away. Even so, there are hundreds left, and if we avert a battle, it will be a miracle.’