A Mortal Bane(151)

“But you did not see or remember his face? Did your apprentice see him?”

“No, he wore a scarf over most of his face under his hood. I suppose I should have suspected then, but I had such a dreadful cold that I guess I just thought he had a bad cold, too. Luckily, my carelessness did not cost me. He did not even seize the pieces in the window, which he could have done as he ran. And of course I thought nothing of a man wearing a monk’s robe. With the archbishop’s palace right behind my shop, as it were, we have monks and nuns aplenty passing by, and even stopping in. Of course it has been very quiet since Archbishop William of blessed memory died, and the new archbishop may not…who knows if he will use Lambeth Palace as much as Archbishop William did? So when I heard that the Bishop of Winchester was interested in my work, I hurried right over.”

Bell was disappointed that the goldsmith was unable to recognize or describe his attacker, but he had plenty of time to recover from the disappointment as the man rambled on and on. The fact that the attacker had taken nothing indicated that he was more interested in harming the goldsmith than in stealing, which made him no common thief—unless he was a particularly inept and timid one. Bell wondered whether the attacker knew he had not hit the goldsmith hard enough to keep him stunned and so fled without stealing.

“I am surprised you were able to come here if the thief struck you hard enough to knock you down and render you unconscious,” Bell remarked.

Master Domenic grinned at him. “Ah well, God works in His own wondrous ways. As you may guess, I was not overly pleased when I woke with a sore throat day before yesterday, nor when the tisanes and potions did not stop the cold from spreading to my head. It ached so much yesterday morning that I wrapped a poultice in a warm, woolen cloth around my head under my hat. That shielded me from the full force of the blow—and it was a strong one, for it knocked me off my chair and stunned me, even with that protection. I was helpless, but fortunately my apprentice came running so quickly to see what was wrong that the thief had no time to steal.”

And no time to deliver several more blows and finish the job, Bell thought. The goldsmith had no idea of how lucky he had been. Maybe when he realized it, he would be a little less cast down to learn that the bishop had not summoned him to order work. But Bell decided he had better not tell Master Domenic anything about that yet. He did not want the man sullen with disappointment.

“If you will wait just a moment or two more,” Bell said, “I will go in and tell the bishop you are here. I know he wishes to speak to you, but I told him you had been hurt, so he might not be expecting you so soon.”

“I will wait upon his lordship’s convenience very willingly,” Master Domenic said, and sniffed liquidly again.

Bell went back through the door just in time to see the bishop lean from his chair toward Magdalene, who was now seated on the stool the prior had vacated. Bell froze for a moment, struggling to conquer an insane impulse to pull his master away, made even more insane by the fact that he knew Winchester took his vows of chastity very seriously. He could not speak for an instant, and then kept silent because the bishop was obviously in the middle of a conversation.

“Do not be so hard on him,” Winchester said. “His manner is irritating, but it is because he is too aware that he is not so well-born as the others, who are mostly second, third, and fourth sons of noblemen—like Bell. His grandfather was a butcher—”

“Oh, dear,” Magdalene said, trying hard not to giggle. “Think of being a butcher’s son and trying to maintain your dignity against all those noble-born cockscombs.”