Read Online The Tainted Coin by Mel Starr - Free Book Online Page B

widow if he yet lived near the tanners on Ock Street and drew his tiny cart about the shire harnessed to it like a beast.
    “Did you keep company with John Thrale upon Abingdon’s streets?”
    Amice frowned at the question, and I explained. “The men who overturned this house, and who threatened my wife and child and stole the coins I took from this place, they will not be content until they know where John found the treasure. They may seek you, and will not be satisfied if you tell them you know not where John discovered the hoard.”
    “They would deal with me as they did poor John?”
    “Aye, and threaten harm to your children if you do not tell.”
    Amice shuddered, as well she might. “What am I to do? I cannot tell what I do not know. Perhaps these men will not find me.”
    “Perhaps. But was I you, I would seek safety until the villains are found out.”

    “Where am I to go? I cannot leave off brewing. I have little enough to feed my children as is.”
    “I will think on it. Meanwhile I will see you to your house. When I have devised some scheme for your safety I will seek you.”
    “I live in the bury, with other poor folk… beyond the marketplace.”
    I had begun to see foes everywhere, so when Amice and I left the house I peered cautiously into the street to see if two men – one slender and wearing a red cap, the other stout, wearing a blue cap – were upon East St. Helen Street. A monk, perhaps the almoner, seeking poor folk, walked the street, followed by two men. Only later did it occur to me that poor folk would not likely be found on East St. Helen Street.
    We hurried away to the marketplace and the New Inn, where Arthur awaited. I called to him to join us, and together we escorted Amice Thatcher to her house. I told her to remain there until I returned. She agreed readily, having had time to consider what trouble might come if John Thrale’s assailants found her.
    There is much poverty on the lanes beyond the marketplace. Little wonder Amice was eager to wed if the sacrament would take her from the bury to East St. Helen Street. Her tears had been for John Thrale, I suppose, but perhaps also for shattered hopes of escape.
    Arthur and I returned to the New Inn and between mouthfuls of pottage I related the morning’s events to him. While I explained, a way to provide for Amice Thatcher’s safety occurred to me.
    ’Tis but a few paces from the New Inn to St. John’s Hospital. I found the hospital porter and asked that he fetch the infirmarer. The man looked down his nose at me, or tried to, but as I stood half a head taller than him, this he found difficult to do. He did make a manful effort. At last he deigned to reply.
    “The New Inn, just beyond the gatehouse, serves travelers.”

    “Aye, and we are lodged there. It is accommodation for another I seek.”
    The porter made no reply. I believe his instructions were to permit as few folk as possible to enter the hospital. When Amice Thatcher was safely in the hospital, this hostile reception might serve to protect her – if she was first permitted to enter the place.
    “I am Hugh de Singleton,” I said. “Surgeon, and bailiff to Lord Gilbert Talbot at his manor of Bampton. It is Lord Gilbert’s business which brings me here.”
    “Lord Gilbert wishes lodging in the abbey? I will send for Abbot Peter. He will wish for Lord Gilbert to be his guest. When shall I say Lord Gilbert will arrive?”
    The sullen porter was suddenly willing to please. I could fit in no word till he had stopped for breath and had begun to turn from me to send for the abbot.
    “Nay, ’tis not Lord Gilbert who wishes lodging in Abingdon.”
    “You said you are here on Lord Gilbert’s business,” the porter scowled.
    “Indeed. There has been theft and murder done upon Lord Gilbert’s lands. One who may know something of the felony needs a place where she may be safe from those who might do her harm so as to silence her and escape my