still. The racket brought the High Street to a standstill,
as carts careened into each other. Several dogs started to howl, although they could not be heard over the din, and neither
could the whinnies of frightened horses.
Thelnetham stepped up the pace of the ceremony, eager to be back inside so the clamour could be brought to an end. The Fellows
hurried to keep up with him, while the students at the very end of the line were obliged to break into a run. Several were
helpless with laughter, and by the time Thelnetham had circumnavigated the churchyard and was heading back up the aisle, his
procession was in shambles.
He blessed the image of the Holy Child that Suttone was holding, then read the canticle
Benedictus Dominus DeusIsrael
before the choir could sing that, too. But there was one more musical interlude to be performed, and scholars and congregation
alike were relieved when Michael shot his singers a glance that told them they had better not join in, and chanted the
Inviolata
himself.
Bartholomew closed his eyes as the monk’s rich baritone filled the church, enjoying the way it echoed around the stones. When
the last notes had faded away and he opened his eyes again, it was to find the church filled with flickering gold light. Then
it was plunged into darkness as the scholars blew out their candles. The ritual of Purification was over.
‘I have heard worse,’ said Bartholomew consolingly, as he walked home next to Michael. The High Street was still in chaos,
with two broken wagons and a man wailing over the fact that his sheep had been frightened into a stampede. ‘They were not
as bad today as they were at Christmas.’
‘They were louder, though,’ said Michael. He grinned, a little wickedly. ‘How many other foundations do you think we managed
to disrupt this time? At Christmas, we received complaints from five, but I think we may have surpassed ourselves this afternoon.’
‘It would not surprise me to learn that they disrupted the Pope in Avignon. Can you not tell them that producing that sort
of din is bad for the ears? It hurt mine, and I was some distance away. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be among
them.’
Michael’s expression was pained. ‘I do tell them, but my advice is forgotten once they are in public. You should have heard
them practise the Ave Maria last week. It was beautiful – moving.’
Bartholomew seriously doubted it, but said nothing. He could hear the sounds of merriment behind him, as thesingers, delighted with the impact they had made, shared the bread and ale Michael had provided. He was glad they would have
at least one good meal that day, and began to look forward to the feast, aware that it was some time since he had eaten well,
too.
But he was to be disappointed, because when he arrived at Michaelhouse, Cynric was waiting with a message. The singing had
aggravated Emma’s toothache, and she wanted him to visit immediately, to see what might be done about it.
‘You will have to go,’ said Langelee, overhearing. ‘I appreciate that your inclination will be to ignore the summons and enjoy
the feast, but you must put duty first.’
‘I never ignore summonses from patients,’ objected Bartholomew indignantly. ‘Even when I know that patient will continue to
be unwell until she agrees to have her tooth removed.’
‘Well, do what you can for her,’ instructed Langelee. ‘I know you disapprove of me accepting her charity, but I did what had
to be done, and you must make the best of it.’ He turned to Michael. ‘Have you found out who killed Drax yet? He was a benefactor,
too, and I do not want it said that helping Michaelhouse is dangerous.’
‘Not yet,’ replied Michael. ‘But tomorrow I shall learn from Yffi whether he created a diversion so the body could be dumped
here – and if he did, I shall have the name of the killer.’
‘And if he did not?’ asked Langelee.
‘Then I shall have
as carts careened into each other. Several dogs started to howl, although they could not be heard over the din, and neither
could the whinnies of frightened horses.
Thelnetham stepped up the pace of the ceremony, eager to be back inside so the clamour could be brought to an end. The Fellows
hurried to keep up with him, while the students at the very end of the line were obliged to break into a run. Several were
helpless with laughter, and by the time Thelnetham had circumnavigated the churchyard and was heading back up the aisle, his
procession was in shambles.
He blessed the image of the Holy Child that Suttone was holding, then read the canticle
Benedictus Dominus DeusIsrael
before the choir could sing that, too. But there was one more musical interlude to be performed, and scholars and congregation
alike were relieved when Michael shot his singers a glance that told them they had better not join in, and chanted the
Inviolata
himself.
Bartholomew closed his eyes as the monk’s rich baritone filled the church, enjoying the way it echoed around the stones. When
the last notes had faded away and he opened his eyes again, it was to find the church filled with flickering gold light. Then
it was plunged into darkness as the scholars blew out their candles. The ritual of Purification was over.
‘I have heard worse,’ said Bartholomew consolingly, as he walked home next to Michael. The High Street was still in chaos,
with two broken wagons and a man wailing over the fact that his sheep had been frightened into a stampede. ‘They were not
as bad today as they were at Christmas.’
‘They were louder, though,’ said Michael. He grinned, a little wickedly. ‘How many other foundations do you think we managed
to disrupt this time? At Christmas, we received complaints from five, but I think we may have surpassed ourselves this afternoon.’
‘It would not surprise me to learn that they disrupted the Pope in Avignon. Can you not tell them that producing that sort
of din is bad for the ears? It hurt mine, and I was some distance away. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be among
them.’
Michael’s expression was pained. ‘I do tell them, but my advice is forgotten once they are in public. You should have heard
them practise the Ave Maria last week. It was beautiful – moving.’
Bartholomew seriously doubted it, but said nothing. He could hear the sounds of merriment behind him, as thesingers, delighted with the impact they had made, shared the bread and ale Michael had provided. He was glad they would have
at least one good meal that day, and began to look forward to the feast, aware that it was some time since he had eaten well,
too.
But he was to be disappointed, because when he arrived at Michaelhouse, Cynric was waiting with a message. The singing had
aggravated Emma’s toothache, and she wanted him to visit immediately, to see what might be done about it.
‘You will have to go,’ said Langelee, overhearing. ‘I appreciate that your inclination will be to ignore the summons and enjoy
the feast, but you must put duty first.’
‘I never ignore summonses from patients,’ objected Bartholomew indignantly. ‘Even when I know that patient will continue to
be unwell until she agrees to have her tooth removed.’
‘Well, do what you can for her,’ instructed Langelee. ‘I know you disapprove of me accepting her charity, but I did what had
to be done, and you must make the best of it.’ He turned to Michael. ‘Have you found out who killed Drax yet? He was a benefactor,
too, and I do not want it said that helping Michaelhouse is dangerous.’
‘Not yet,’ replied Michael. ‘But tomorrow I shall learn from Yffi whether he created a diversion so the body could be dumped
here – and if he did, I shall have the name of the killer.’
‘And if he did not?’ asked Langelee.
‘Then I shall have
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