Free 11 - The Lammas Feast by Kate Sedley Page B

turned brown and withered on the stalk, peered up at me.
    ‘And who may you be, young man?’ I was hesitating, wondering if I should claim to be a friend of her son, which he would, of course, instantly deny, when the dame caught sight of my pack and gave a squeal of delight. ‘Come inside, Chapman! I’m in urgent want of needles and thread, and it’ll save me a trip to the market, if you’re carrying some.’
    Walter began to protest, but his mother waved him to silence.
    ‘Hold your noise, you danged great lummox. This is my house and I’ll say who comes in or stays out.’
    She only reached halfway up his upper arm and was so thin that she looked as though a puff of wind might have blown her away. But Walter, who had intimidated some of the town’s biggest (in every sense of the word) men on Jasper’s behalf, was plainly terrified of her. He slunk back to his stool by the empty hearth, thrusting out his nether lip defiantly, but saying nothing.
    Goody Godsmark shook my arm.
    ‘Let’s see what you’ve got there!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re another great lummox, like that one over there, and you’re all as slow as snails.’ She looked me up and down. ‘I’ll wager you’re not slow between the sheets, though. I know your sort, with those sleepy eyes. Bedroom eyes, I call them. Married, are you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Pity, ’cause I’m a widow.’ She cackled with laughter, ignoring her son’s squirm of embarrassment.
    I hurried to lay out the contents of my pack. As well as thread, I was able produce needles, not just stuck through a piece of old felt, but in a tiny, beautifully carved ivory holder. I saw the faded blue eyes light with desire.
    She took the case from me and held it in the palm of one hand, rolling it to and fro with the tip of a finger.
    ‘Now, that’s what I call a pretty toy.’ She sucked her teeth. ‘How much, Chapman?’
    Inspiration struck. ‘You can have it for nothing,’ I said, trying to pretend to myself that it was profit well lost in a good cause, ‘if your son will answer me some questions concerning Master Fairbrother’s death.’
    ‘I told you, I’m saying nothing more on that head,’ Walter grunted morosely. ‘I’ve done all my answering to Sergeant Manifold.’
    Goody Godsmark seized a besom from the corner and, holding it upside down, beat him around the shoulders with the handle. I winced in sympathy as he let out a yell.
    ‘You’ll do as you’re asked,’ the old woman said menacingly. ‘Deny your mother a free gift, would you, you ungrateful boy? And why shouldn’t you tell the chapman what he wants to know? You’ll be opening your mouth wide enough in the alehouse tonight, I don’t doubt. Spends all his evenings in the Green Lattis,’ she grumbled to me. ‘I didn’t see him last night until well after curfew. Now, come over here to the table this instant, my son, and tell the chapman what he wants to know. Or it’ll be the worse for you.’
    Walter got to his feet and slouched across with as much ill grace as he could muster. He pulled out another stool from beneath the trestle and sat down.
    ‘Well?’ he muttered.
    ‘The man who called on Jasper yesterday morning, had you ever seen him before?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘You’re certain?’
    ‘If you’re going to query everything I say, there’s no point in asking me anything,’ Walter sneered.
    ‘Fair enough,’ I agreed hastily. ‘Did you get a close look at this stranger?’
    He shrugged. ‘Not really. Brown hair, stockily built. That’s all I can tell you.’
    The description, such as it was, agreed with my own recollection of the man. Although, now I came to think of it, I thought I remembered a pair of hazel eyes returning my curious gaze.
    ‘Was he a foreigner?’
    ‘Reckon so. Spoke English, mind, but with an accent. Don’t know what sort. French, probably.’
    Or Breton. But I let it go. ‘Did you hear what he and Master Fairbrother were talking about?’
    ‘No. I opened the door