Candace ROBB - The Service of the Dead

affinity: the collective term for a lords retainers, who offer military, political, legal, or domestic service in return for money, office, or influence

ashlar: paint on stone or plaster to create the appearance of square-cut stone

the bars of york: the four main gatehouses in the walls of York (Bootham, Monk, Walmgate, and Micklegate)

the bedern: the area of York, part of the minster liberty, housing the vicars choral

butt: a target for archery practice

coroner: the official in charge of recording deaths and inquiring into the cause of deaths, among other duties regarding the crowns property

minster liberty: the area of the city under the jurisdiction of the dean and chapter of York

maison dieu: house of God; an almshouse, a refuge for the poor

messuage: the area of land taken up by a house and its outbuildings

staithe: a landing stage, or wharf

vicar choral: as a modern vicar is the deputy of the rector, so a vicar choral was a cleric in holy orders acting as the deputy of a canon attached to the cathedral; for a modest annual salary the vicar choral performed his canons duties, attending the various services of the church and singing the liturgy

York, early February 1399

One moment Kate was laughing as Griselde called Matt back for yet another final instruction, and the next she was watching in horror as the young man stepped into the street, cried out, and fell beneath a runaway wagon. She rushed into High Petergate calling out for someone to help her lift the wagon and was quickly surrounded by a cluster of men, one of whom barked orders.

The housekeeper tried to draw Kate aside. Come, come, Mistress Clifford. Best not to look, Griselde murmured.

Kate shrugged her off. Bloody, mangled bodies were nothing new to her. Carts and wagons and the animals pulling them were dangerous in Yorks crowded, narrow streets. Kate had seen a man decapitated when a cart pinned him against a stone wall, a boys arm severed by a wheel, an infant crushed by a frightened horse. I will see to him, she said to the housekeeper. Griselde withdrew.

The men had moved the wagon to one side. Matt lay on the cobbles limp, unconscious, but whole.

Bleeding from the back of his head, one of the men said. Should we lift him?

Griselde had disappeared back into Kates guesthouse and now returned, holding out a blanket. Roll him onto this, bring him inside. She crossed herself as they carried him past. God walks with that young man.

Kate said nothing. She did not believe in miracles. Matts reflexes had saved him. He had managed to roll between the wheels. She collared a passing boy and offered him a penny to fetch Matts father from the Shambles. When she turned back to the house she was shaking so badly she paused for a few breaths to steady herself and find her legs. A crowd had formed round the wagon, discussing it, arguing about who owned it, who was responsible, who was to blame.

By midmorning, Matt had been removed to his fathers house under the watchful eyes of his cousin, a healer. Shed listed his injuries as a bruised head, a deep cut on his ear, scraped hands, and a badly sprained leg nothing life-threatening. Kate was not so certain. She had seen how hard hed fallen. His head had hit the cobbles. Time would tell.

She sat in the guesthouse kitchen cupping a bowl of ale in her hands, trying to think what to do. The fact was, Kate needed Matt, and she needed him now. With his strength and agility, his smiling, easy nature, and his remarkable patience, he was the perfect manservant for the couple who ran her guesthouse. Heaven knew the elderly couple needed all the assistance Kate could provide them in the coming weeks. Lady Kirkby, a prominent noblewoman, was coming to stay, and she would be accompanied by a household of servants and retainers. She would arrive the day after tomorrow, and she planned to entertain prominent citizens at dinners in the guesthouse hall. Kate must find someone to replace Matt for the time being. A selfish consideration, but business was business.

I could spare old Sam today, Kate offered Griselde, who had just settled down with her own cup of ale. Could you use him?

Do not trouble yourself. I am ready for this evenings guests. But I would welcome help tomorrow. Perhaps someone with a bit more strength than Sam? The housekeeper shook her head. Whose wagon, that is what I would like to know. No one had claimed it yet. The men had moved it beneath the eaves, tucking it up against the front of the guesthouse. Filled with stones, did you notice? Griselde stared down into her cup. Id wager it was a servant, and hes run off to avoid punishment.

The owner will turn up then. When Master Frost comes this evening, you might have a word with him. He has the mayors ear. Someone must take responsibility for this.

Griselde promised to mention it if she had a chance.

Kate glanced round the room. Is Clement abed? The housekeepers husband was infirm with age.

He is. Gathering his strength for tomorrow. Griselde leaned forward. But he can barely wait to learn how Master Lionel explained the discrepancy on the accounts.

I will tell him myself on the morrow, after Ive spoken to my brother-in-law. We meet this evening. Kate rose. Young Seth Fletcher might do to help you. His fathers asked whether I had work for him. In any case, I will arrange for someone to come to you tomorrow.

Out on the street the wind had picked up, twisting Kates skirts about her. She moved back under the eaves and regarded the wagon with its load of stones. She noticed that some were caked with mud as if recently dug up. Someone building a wall? Kate drew a shaky breath, then pressed her hand to her stomach at the vivid image that rose in her mind of Matt crushed beneath the weight of the load. It might have been so much worse.

Passersby paused to ask after Matt. Kate kept her answer simple and consistent, that he should recover in time. Until she had more information to share, she would say as little as possible. What if Matt lost the leg? Or his head did not clear? The accident bothered her. Was it possible someone wished Matt harm? Why? He was young, inexperienced, of no standing in the city. Had he not been the intended victim? The street had been fairly crowded. Had his appearance at just that moment foiled someones plan? Suspicion was a habit she had developed in her youth on the northern border with Scotland, and she had been in York long enough to know that the absence of Scots did not guarantee peace. Merchants squabbled among themselves, and the nobles likewise. Faith, even the king was quarreling with his cousin and heir, an enmity that many feared could lead to civil war. Neither had the temperament simply to agree to disagree; one of them must die.