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Authors: Susanna Gregory
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conversation?’
Wynewyk inclined his head, while William wagged his finger to indicate he was still thinking.
‘If you vote for Honynge, you will regret it,’ warned Michael. ‘When he arrives, and you become more familiar with his disagreeable
habits, you will be sorry.’
He should have known better than try to sway William, because the friar rarely took advice, and his grimy paw immediately
shot into the air in Honynge’s favour. ‘Some of my students are little more than children, and I do not like the notion of
electing a man who might leer at them.’
‘And finally, Tyrington,’ said Langelee, raising his own hand. ‘Alleged to spit and leer.’
Michael lifted a plump arm to indicate his preference, although with scant enthusiasm. Langelee had made none of the candidates
sound appealing.
‘Tyrington and Honynge have two votes each, Master,’ said William, lest Langelee could not count that high. ‘That means we
are tied, so
you
must make the final determination.’
Langelee rubbed his jaw as he assessed his options. ‘I am not enamoured of either, to be frank, but we cannot procrastinate
or our students will suffer. So, we shall appoint them both.’
‘You cannot do that!’ blurted William, startled. ‘You must make a decision.’
‘I
have
made a decision,’ snapped Langelee. ‘We were desperately busy last term, with Clippesby and Suttone away, and an extra Fellow
will not go amiss.’
‘But admitting Honynge
and
Tyrington will raise our membership to nine,’ said Bartholomew, puzzled. ‘I thought the College statutes stipulated one Master
and
seven
fellows.’
‘Actually, they do not,’ said Michael, who knew the rules backwards. ‘We have always had that number, but it is tradition,
not law. Still, to break a time-honoured custom for Honynge—’
‘But the money,’ objected Wynewyk, more concerned with practical matters than legal ones. ‘How will we pay an additional teacher?’
‘By accepting twenty new students,’ replied Langelee. His prompt reply suggested he had already given the matter some thought.
‘Candelby’s antics have resulted in several hostels being dissolved, and dozens of good scholars are desperate for a home.
I can fit four in my quarters, and Bartholomew can take five. The rest of you can divide the remaining nine between yourselves.’
‘It will be cosy,’ said Bartholomew, declining to comment on the Master’s dubious arithmetic.
‘I should say,’ muttered Michael. ‘There is not space in your chamber for a bed and five mattresses, so you will have to sleep
in shifts. This is sheer lunacy!’
‘So, it is decided,’ said Langelee, banging his sceptre to indicate the meeting was at an end. ‘We elect Tyrington and Honynge,
and we recruit a score of new students – hopefully very rich ones who might be inclined to make regular donations.’
The next phase of the academic year was not due to begin for another ten days, so technically the scholars who had remained
in Cambridge during the break between the Lent and summer terms were free to do as they pleased. However, the University did
not like groups of bored young men wandering around the town with time on their hands, so hostels and Colleges were expected
to find ways to keep them occupied. Michaelhouse’s method was to hold mock disputations in the hall, which were intended to
hone the students’ debating skills. The Fellows were obliged to supervise the proceedings, but they were not all needed at
once, so they took it in turns.
Bartholomew was scheduled for ‘disputation duty’ that grey Monday, but as he had agreed to examine Lynton’s body for Michael,
he asked his colleagues whether they would stand in for him. When he went to tell the monk that they could not help – William
was taking part in a vigil for Kenyngham, while Wynewyk and Langelee were due to meet a potential benefactor – he found him
holding a letter. Michael’s
Wynewyk inclined his head, while William wagged his finger to indicate he was still thinking.
‘If you vote for Honynge, you will regret it,’ warned Michael. ‘When he arrives, and you become more familiar with his disagreeable
habits, you will be sorry.’
He should have known better than try to sway William, because the friar rarely took advice, and his grimy paw immediately
shot into the air in Honynge’s favour. ‘Some of my students are little more than children, and I do not like the notion of
electing a man who might leer at them.’
‘And finally, Tyrington,’ said Langelee, raising his own hand. ‘Alleged to spit and leer.’
Michael lifted a plump arm to indicate his preference, although with scant enthusiasm. Langelee had made none of the candidates
sound appealing.
‘Tyrington and Honynge have two votes each, Master,’ said William, lest Langelee could not count that high. ‘That means we
are tied, so
you
must make the final determination.’
Langelee rubbed his jaw as he assessed his options. ‘I am not enamoured of either, to be frank, but we cannot procrastinate
or our students will suffer. So, we shall appoint them both.’
‘You cannot do that!’ blurted William, startled. ‘You must make a decision.’
‘I
have
made a decision,’ snapped Langelee. ‘We were desperately busy last term, with Clippesby and Suttone away, and an extra Fellow
will not go amiss.’
‘But admitting Honynge
and
Tyrington will raise our membership to nine,’ said Bartholomew, puzzled. ‘I thought the College statutes stipulated one Master
and
seven
fellows.’
‘Actually, they do not,’ said Michael, who knew the rules backwards. ‘We have always had that number, but it is tradition,
not law. Still, to break a time-honoured custom for Honynge—’
‘But the money,’ objected Wynewyk, more concerned with practical matters than legal ones. ‘How will we pay an additional teacher?’
‘By accepting twenty new students,’ replied Langelee. His prompt reply suggested he had already given the matter some thought.
‘Candelby’s antics have resulted in several hostels being dissolved, and dozens of good scholars are desperate for a home.
I can fit four in my quarters, and Bartholomew can take five. The rest of you can divide the remaining nine between yourselves.’
‘It will be cosy,’ said Bartholomew, declining to comment on the Master’s dubious arithmetic.
‘I should say,’ muttered Michael. ‘There is not space in your chamber for a bed and five mattresses, so you will have to sleep
in shifts. This is sheer lunacy!’
‘So, it is decided,’ said Langelee, banging his sceptre to indicate the meeting was at an end. ‘We elect Tyrington and Honynge,
and we recruit a score of new students – hopefully very rich ones who might be inclined to make regular donations.’
The next phase of the academic year was not due to begin for another ten days, so technically the scholars who had remained
in Cambridge during the break between the Lent and summer terms were free to do as they pleased. However, the University did
not like groups of bored young men wandering around the town with time on their hands, so hostels and Colleges were expected
to find ways to keep them occupied. Michaelhouse’s method was to hold mock disputations in the hall, which were intended to
hone the students’ debating skills. The Fellows were obliged to supervise the proceedings, but they were not all needed at
once, so they took it in turns.
Bartholomew was scheduled for ‘disputation duty’ that grey Monday, but as he had agreed to examine Lynton’s body for Michael,
he asked his colleagues whether they would stand in for him. When he went to tell the monk that they could not help – William
was taking part in a vigil for Kenyngham, while Wynewyk and Langelee were due to meet a potential benefactor – he found him
holding a letter. Michael’s
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