Read Online The Saltergate Psalter by Chris Nickson - Free Book Online Page B

Row, Potters’ Row, many more. Runnels in every road overflowed, filling the air with a stink the residents didn’t even seem to notice. The buildings rose higgledy-piggledy, no order to them. Everything seemed to radiate out from the Royal Oak, the inn that stood at the centre of the area.
    Conversations stopped as they passed. People stared at them. The folk in the Shambles had a look about them. Suspicious faces that seemed as if they’d never spent much time in the sun. Dirt was everywhere. A dead cat had been carelessly thrown against a wall. Walter stopped by a house that looked close to toppling over.
    John brought his hand down on the wood. He waited, but no one came, and he tried again, pounding harder until someone inside drew back the bolt. She was a big woman, as tall as him, wearing a cheap dress layered in dirt and stains, a cudgel clutched in a thick hand. A wisp of grey hair escaped from her wimple, and her nose looked as if it had been broken at some time.
    ‘What do you want?’
    ‘Mistress.’ He smiled and gave a small bow. ‘I’m looking for Gilbert.’
    ‘Why?’ She didn’t move an inch, filling the doorway, menacing with her size.
    ‘The coroner’s searching for him.’
    She shook her head. ‘He’s gone. Left Saturday night. The bailiffs were here yesterday. I told them.’
    ‘I’d like to see his room.’
    She snorted. ‘I daresay you would. But you can’t. Someone else already has it.’
    ‘Did he leave anything behind?’
    The woman shrugged. Anything Gilbert hadn’t taken was now hers, and he doubted there would be anything of value.
    He could face her down, demand entry in the coroner’s name. But from the corner of his eyes he could see a few people starting to gather. It wasn’t worth the argument. John smiled and nodded.
    ‘Of course, Mistress. May God go with you.’
    Eyes watched them until they turned the corner. He stopped and let out a long breath, a mix of fear and relief.
    ‘Were you scared, John?’ Walter asked.
    ‘Very.’ He still had the wounds and the bruises from Saturday, and no desire for more of them. ‘But I suppose we’d better check Edward’s shop, too.’
    In the tangle of lanes and streets he had no idea which way to turn. But the lad led him, right, then left, and left once more, until they were standing in front of the place. An apprentice, trying to look sure of himself, stood behind the counter.
    ‘Good meat, gentlemen?’ he asked. ‘Fresh, cut how you like.’
    ‘I’m looking for Edward,’ John told him.
    ‘He’s not here.’ The young man’s eyes darted around nervously.
    ‘Does he often leave you in charge?’
    ‘Sometimes.’ He lifted his head. ‘Why, what business is it of yours?’
    ‘That’s between me and your master,’ John told him, his face stern. ‘When will he be back?’ When there was no reply, he repeated, ‘When?’
    ‘He didn’t say.’ The apprentice tried to shrug it off. ‘Soon.’
    John kept staring, watching the man’s face. ‘How soon?’ he asked finally.
    ‘The ’prentice said soon,’ came a voice behind them. John turned slowly, seeing a hefty man, his hose patched in many colours, his shirt faded, hidden by a vast leather apron covered in bloodstains. His face was covered with dark stubble but the hair on the top of his head was as short as bristles. A long knife hung from his belt, his right hand resting lightly on it. There was an air of violence about him.
    ‘I heard him. I wanted to know how soon.’
    ‘What is it to you, anyway?’
    ‘I have business with Edward.’
    The man looked him up and down and gave a grim smile that showed broken, brown teeth. ‘It looks you like came off worse in the last business you transacted, friend. You might do well to think on that.’
    John glanced back at the apprentice. He looked more confident now, cocksure in his gaze.
    They left without a word, forced to squeeze by the large man in the doorway. He smelt of decay, dirt ingrained into his