2 The Servant's Tale by Frazer Margaret

Author:Frazer, Margaret [Frazer, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: __Fixed, _BIG_FIXUP, Britain, Convent, England, Fiction, good quality scan, Great Britain, Henry VI; 1422-1461, Historical, History, Medieval, Mystery & Detective, Nuns, Traditional British, Women Sleuth
ISBN: 9780425143896
Google: K7cBOAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0425143899
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1993-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Father Henry, looking from Frevisse’s face to Dame Claire’s, said, “I don’t understand.”

Frevisse waited for Dame Claire to say something but she went on staring at Sym’s body, brooding over a death that should not have happened. At last, instead of answering the priest’s question, Frevisse asked, “You were in the village last night when Meg went looking for help?”

“One of the women was sick and had asked for me and—‘’ Father Henry betrayed embarrassment. ”—and I stopped at the alehouse before I came back here. To warm myself. It was cold out.“

“And Meg came there and said Sym was hurt?”

Father Henry nodded. “All afraid, she was, and glad to see me. She told the men her boy was hurt, that the player had stabbed him, she needed help. And then, seeing me, she begged me to come.”

“She’d left his brother with him and come looking for help?”

“The other boy was gone. She’d had to leave Sym there alone. That was part of her fear. That she had left him all alone. She kept saying we had to hurry so he wouldn’t be alone.”

Dame Claire raised her eyes from the body. “He must have died almost immediately. With hardly any pain.”

Frevisse lifted the boy’s hand. Or had he been old enough to be called a man? she wondered. In the quiescence of death his face was younger and more vulnerable than she remembered it being in life. Not that it much mattered now, she supposed. Young or old or in between, he had been murdered. That at least was certain. She went to his doublet and shirt lying at the far end of the table, turned them over, held them up. A ragged tear on the right side showed where one dagger blow had slid in and torn out. There was no other rend.

“His mother must have pulled these up from his chest and side, to better see how he was hurt. And left them open when she went for help.”

“Then someone came in after she was gone,” Dame Claire said.

“Someone he didn’t fear. Or didn’t fear enough to be wary of. He was lying flat and quiet when the dagger went in the second time. Or would he have lost enough blood to be unconscious, do you think?”

Dame Claire shook her head. “No. That first wound is messy but shallow. Even bleeding, it took so long to soak through his doublet, he was home before he knew he was bleeding, didn’t Meg say? There wasn’t enough lost for him to faint. Unless he was the sort who does when they see blood.”

“He was aware enough to be afraid and plead for help. His mother said so. And ask for absolution and the rest.”

“How do you know he was lying down when he was struck?” Dame Claire asked.

“The angle of the blow. In a fight a dagger coming into someone’s side like this one seemingly did has to be held underhanded, and comes almost always in at an upward slant.

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