Free Death of a Scholar by Susanna Gregory Page B

a physician entailed.
    ‘Doctor Bartholomew,’ said Goodwyn unctuously. ‘Here are your latest recruits. I am sure we shall all become very fine physicians under your expert tutelage. Did I tell you that we are acquainted with your nephew, by the way? Richard said you tried to make
him
a physician, too, but he saw the light, and became a lawyer instead. There is money in law.’
    ‘So I understand,’ said Bartholomew, coolly, disliking the lad’s disingenuous tone. ‘Perhaps you should consider studying it.’
    Goodwyn laughed. ‘Perhaps I shall, but not until I have seen what you have to offer.’
    ‘How do you know Richard?’ asked Bartholomew, wondering whether Goodwyn would transfer to another tutor if he overwhelmed him with work. He decided it was worth a try.
    ‘From a tavern we all frequent in London. We are delighted that he has decided to stay in Cambridge for a spell, as life would not be nearly as much fun if
he
returned to the city.’
    ‘Life will revolve around lectures and reading,’ warned Bartholomew. ‘So unless he plans to join you in the library, your paths will seldom cross.’
    He walked away, smothering a smile at the newcomers’ immediate consternation.
    The meal did not last long, as there was very little to eat, and Langelee’s prediction of inedibility was more accurate than was pleasant. There was no dung – at least, not that was readily identifiable – but the bits floating in the pottage were almost certainly wood shavings. When it was over, Bartholomew snagged Langelee before he could disappear to punch, bite, kick, scratch and maul his teammates in the name of sport.
    ‘Your new students came with testimonials from their parish priests
and
licences to matriculate,’ said the Master, immediately guessing the reason for the physician’s irritation. ‘But more importantly, they can pay a term’s fees up front, and one donated a book to our library.’
    ‘What book?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘A medical one?’
    ‘Law. Do not ask me the title – it was something in Latin.’ Langelee began to walk away. ‘And you cannot grumble about the extra work either. We must all put our shoulder to the wheel if we are to survive.’
    ‘Unfortunately, he is right,’ said Michael, who had been listening. ‘You are not the only one who has been burdened with unsuitable pupils. He gave
me
three Cistercians!’
    ‘Gracious,’ said Bartholomew, although he failed to understand why Cistercians should be deemed so undesirable. ‘But we had better make a start with your enquiries, or we shall still be investigating when we are supposed to be teaching. Our new recruits will not be impressed by tutors who fail to arrive for class.’
    They left the College and walked up St Michael’s Lane. When they reached the High Street, Bartholomew was again astonished by the huge number of would-be students who had descended on the town – at least twice as many as usual.
    ‘They are certainly keeping my beadles busy,’ said Michael, when the physician remarked on it. ‘Unfortunately, we have no jurisdiction over them – they are not yet members of the University, as they are always quick to remind us.’
    ‘Some will be,’ said Bartholomew. ‘The ones who have been offered places.’
    ‘If only that were true! But don’t forget that they’re not bound by University rules until they have signed our register and that’s not until next week. It is not usually a problem, as most new lads are eager to make a good impression.’
    ‘So why are this year’s applicants different?’
    ‘I wish I knew. The current intake is abnormally objectionable, the worst of them all being your loathsome Goodwyn. He is still my prime suspect for stealing the Stanton Hutch, you know.’
    ‘But he has just paid a huge sum of money to study here. Do you really think he would promptly turn around and steal from us?’
    ‘You are too willing to see the good in people, Matt, and it is not a virtue. Goodwyn is a