Free Day of Wrath by Iris Collier

you’re like all the others who surround the King; courtiers, all of you. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose, one eye on your own advancement, and let the country go to the devil.’
    Nicholas placed his pewter tankard carefully down on the desk. With difficulty he controlled himself. No use matching insult with insult. ‘I can’t see any signs that the devil is up to his tricks; no more than usual, that is.’
    â€˜The King, my Lord, is plunging England into anarchy, heresy walks abroad unchecked, and he does nothing. And you, and those who are supposed to advise him, also do nothing.’
    â€˜You use strong words, Sir Roger. Watch out that the King doesn’t hear them.’
    â€˜I don’t care if he does. Someone’s got to tell him. I’ve heard that he’s going to close down our monasteries and turn the holy monks out to beg their bread in the street. He’s already severed us from His Holiness the Pope – soon he’ll close down the churches, and we shall be excommunicated and left to rot. These are terrible times, terrible times, and no one tries to stop the King.’
    â€˜The King, Sir Roger, goes his own way. No one can stop him. But I promise I shall do my best to try and save our Priory.’
    The door opened and a lady came in, carrying a baby of about ten months old. Nicholas watched as Mortimer’s severe face softened. There was no doubt about it; he loved his wife, Margot. She smiled at Nicholas and not for the first time he was struck by her placid beauty. She was still in her twenties, but her body was matronly with childbearing. Unlike her husband’s, her face was smooth and pink; her sleek brown hair was drawn back tightly from her face and held in position under a neat cap. She was wearing a dark-coloured dress made of fine linen, and she handled the baby with the competence which comes from long practice. Nicholas felt his annoyance evaporate. Margot had been so kind to his wife, Mary, who had been the opposite of her in every way. Mary with her slender body not designed for childbearing. Margot had given her strength throughout the troubled pregnancy, and had been there at the birth, and supported him when both Mary and his son died, and he felt that life was not worth living.
    â€˜It’s good to see you again, Margot. How well you look, and how beautiful your little girl is,’ he said, going over to kiss her on the cheek and lift back the edge of the shawl which was wrapped around the child.
    â€˜Yes, she’s a joy. A good child, I’m delighted to say. But I heard you arrive, and I just wanted to say how sorry we were to hear about the death of Matthew. He was always welcome here, you know, and Bess was very fond of him. In fact, we hoped to see them both wed in the near future. What happened? I’ve heard he was killed by thieves, is that so?’
    â€˜Landstock and the Coroner say he was murdered, but we don’t know who by, and for what reason.’
    â€˜Murdered?’ said Mortimer, rousing himself from his gloomy introspection. ‘I am surprised. Who’d want to murder your steward? I would say he was a man absolutely without enemies. He must have disturbed thieves at work and they attacked him. I’ve suffered from break-ins too. Only recently they emptied my lake of carp. Prime carp, too, ready for the table. I’ve had to re-stock. The Prior kindly gave me permission to help myself from his own fishponds. I’m most grateful to him. Fortunately he always keeps a good supply; he’s very partial to a fat carp.’
    â€˜Yes, you’re probably right. He could have disturbed thieves and tried to stop them. I shall miss him. He was a good man, and I’m glad he found some happiness in your household.’
    â€˜He loved Bess,’ said Margot moving the baby from one shoulder to the other. ‘She’s now quite beside herself with grief. She keeps to her room and won’t