Read Online The Elephants of Norwich by Edward Marston - Free Book Online

hall, feet clacking noisily on the oaken floor. One hand was on the dagger at his belt, the other clutched at his hair. It was as if he were feeling the full impact of the news for the first time. He came to an abrupt halt.
    ‘The commissioners have arrived, you say?’ he snapped.
    ‘This afternoon, my lord.’
    ‘How many in number?’
    ‘Three with one scribe.’
    ‘Take a message to the leader of the embassy.’
    ‘If you wish.’
    ‘I do wish, Olivier,’ said the other, approaching him again. ‘My message is this. Until these crimes are solved, I refuse to be called to the shire hall to be examined by them. Theft and murder take precedence over their deliberations. Besides,’ he went on with a harsh laugh, ‘I’ll spare them time and trouble. When Mauger is arrested, he’ll have to forfeit his claim to my property. The commissioners will not have to adjudicate between us. I’ll only have to dispute lesser matters before them.’
    ‘Your message will be delivered.’
    ‘Take a second with you.’
    ‘For the commissioners?’
    ‘No, Olivier. For your revered Roger Bigot, sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk.’
    ‘What am I to say to him?’ asked Romain, warily.
    ‘That he must do his duty and call Mauger to account.’
    ‘Or?’
    The other man drew his dagger and brandished it menacingly. ‘I’ll take the law into my own hands.’
    Impervious to the discomfort Brother Daniel knelt at the altar rail in the chapel for a long time and offered up prayers for the soul of the dead man. Since he had discovered the corpse he felt a personal responsibility towards Hermer the Steward even though he had never met him. When he finally got up, genuflected and turned, he was astonished to see Eustace Coureton waiting patiently for him at the rear of the nave.     ‘How long have you been there, my lord?’ he asked.
    ‘Long enough to appreciate how devout you are, Brother Daniel.’
    ‘I wasn’t only prompted by devotion. To be honest, I went down on my knees in abject fear. I asked God to send me the courage to face this horror. For that is what it was, my lord,’ he admitted. ‘When I looked into the eyes of the dead man, I felt the cold hand of mortality gripping me by the throat.’
    ‘A natural reaction,’ said Coureton easily. ‘We all feel like that when we look upon violent death for the first time. As a soldier, I, alas, grew hardened to such sights. There’s nothing as sickening as a walk across a battlefield that’s strewn with corpses. Man’s inhumanity to man is writ largest there. Yet I did it without a tremor eventually. I knew that life must go on.’
    ‘That’s why I feel so guilty.’
    ‘Guilty?’
    ‘He lay dead at my feet, I was still alive.’
    ‘Thank the Almighty for your good fortune.’
    ‘I did, my lord. Several times.’
    ‘Then you’ve no cause to be troubled by guilt.’
    ‘So why does my conscience plague me?’
    ‘I don’t know, Brother Daniel.’
    ‘My head is still pounding.’
    ‘Rest awhile,’ said the other, lowering him on to a bench and sitting beside him. ‘You need time to come to terms with what you saw.’
    In the short time they had known each other, Eustace Coureton had grown fond of the monk. Brother Daniel was a congenial member of the party, intelligent, willing and quick to learn, but on the long road from Winchester, when the two men had enjoyed several conversations together, Coureton had detected a more sensitive side to his friend. Behind the amiability and the spiritual exuberance was a decided vulnerability. Hearing of Daniel’s unwitting discovery of the murder victim, Coureton had guessed that the monk would be duly appalled by the experience and might welcome a friendly face, and it was for this reason that he sought him out in the