Free Death of a Scholar by Susanna Gregory Page A

to Chesterton.’
    ‘He was never in Heaven,’ declared William. ‘He was in Hell. He only thought it was Paradise because Matthew rescued him before he could get a good look at it.’
    ‘I still think he stole our hutch,’ said Thelnetham. ‘To prove to his nasty henchmen that he has not lost his touch.’
    ‘I doubt it,’ said Hemmysby. ‘If I had to pick a suspect, it would be someone from Winwick Hall. Their College was built too fast, and they need money to shore it up before it falls down around their ears.’
    ‘Do you have any particular reason for mentioning them?’ asked Michael keenly. ‘You know its people better than the rest of us – from being a fellow member of the Guild of Saints.’
    Hemmysby shrugged. ‘I am afraid not, Brother. I was just saying what I felt.’
    ‘You had better not indulge in unfounded statements this afternoon,’ warned Thelnetham. ‘Or you will make Michaelhouse a laughing stock. Still, better that than what Matthew and William are doing, one with his love of anatomy, and the other with his crass stupidity.’
    ‘I have no love of anatomy,’ objected William, startled. ‘It is a very nasty—’
    ‘It is a pity anatomy is frowned upon,’ said Hemmysby. ‘Lawrence from Winwick tells me it is greatly beneficial to our understanding of the human form. Personally, I applaud the practice.’
    ‘If that is the kind of thing you discuss at Guild meetings,’ said Thelnetham in distaste, ‘then I am glad I have not been invited to join.’
    When the breakfast bell rang, the Fellows abandoned their discussion to hurry up the spiral staircase to the hall, Michael and William vying for first place. Bartholomew let the students go in front of him, because he disliked being shoved and jostled, especially when the victuals were unlikely to be worth the scramble.
    ‘John,’ he called to Clippesby, who was still talking to the hens. ‘You will be late, and I do not want my new students following your example.’
    ‘No,’ agreed the Dominican, reluctantly abandoning avian company for human. ‘You have an exceptionally unruly horde this year. Aungel is a decent lad, but Goodwyn will lead him astray. And where Aungel goes, the others follow. Ethel told me.’
    ‘Who is Ethel?’ asked Bartholomew.
    ‘The College’s top hen,’ replied Clippesby. ‘She is an observant bird when she is not eating, and she has been watching your lads carefully. Incidentally, five more applied to join them last night. I told Langelee that you would not appreciate such a large group, but he said we needed the money, and refused to listen.’
    ‘
Five?
’ Bartholomew was horrified. ‘But that will give me even more than I had last year – and I struggled then! How does he expect me to teach them properly?’
    ‘He does not care about that – he just wants their fees. You should see the size of William’s class.
He
does not mind, though, as he equates higher numbers with personal popularity. However, it will not take these young men long to realise that they are wasting their money by being with him, and then there will be trouble.’
    ‘Lord!’ muttered Bartholomew. ‘I had better speak to Langelee.’
    ‘Please do. Ethel says Langelee is wrong to overload our classes, as she believes we will not be in dire financial straits for long.’
    ‘Then let us hope she is right,’ said Bartholomew fervently.
    ‘Here come your new pupils now,’ said Clippesby, nodding to where a gaggle of young men were being conducted towards the hall by Goodwyn. ‘You must excuse me, Matt. I saw them tease a dog last night, and I have no wish to exchange pleasantries with cruel people.’
    Bartholomew regarded the newcomers warily, thinking they did not look like aspiring
medici
to him. They were beautifully dressed, and their elegant manners suggested that they would be more at home at Court than dealing with the sick. He could only suppose that Langelee had accepted them without explaining what being