Free Roseblood by Paul Doherty Page A

his fingers and wrists. He walked into the tavern followed by two others similarly attired. The raucous noise subsided as customers drew away. A relic seller hastily grabbed his tray of special stones from the rock of Moses and tried to leave, only to be pushed back. A juggler, his pet monkey on his shoulder, a ferret in the crook of his arm, fell off his stool and crawled under the table.
    Katherine watched the three rifflers swagger further into the taproom. According to whispers around her, these wolfsheads were Blackshanks, Gull-Groper and Scalding-Boy. Her father, Ignacio behind him, left the common board and went over to confront the new arrivals. Katherine was surprised at how calm and measured he seemed, for he had a temper second to none.
    ‘Good day, sir.’ Simon bowed. ‘Welcome to this tavern. I—’
    ‘The Dominus of the Dunghill,’ Blackshanks, the leader, interrupted rudely. ‘I know you, Master Roseblood, and you know me, as you do my two friends, Gull-Groper,’ he turned mockingly, ‘and Master Scalding-Boy. We have just come from Cripplegate ward.’ Blackshanks’s voice grew stronger. ‘I quoted from the Book of the Apocalypse. Ever since my days as a scholar I have loved that verse. It signifies the end of things.’ He poked Simon in the chest with the point of his sword. ‘And you, sir, are certainly at the end of things. Candlemas and Cross-Biter will indict you, then it will be Newgate for Master Roseblood.’
    ‘You have everything planned!’ Raphael pushed his way through, hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. ‘You have us judged, condemned and hanged.’
    ‘As the cock, so the chick,’ jeered Scalding-Boy, his scorched face ugly.
    ‘You are all wanted men yourselves,’ Raphael retorted. The usually quiet-faced lawyer was now flushed with anger. ‘Are you not,’ he declared, ‘wanted by the sheriffs of Essex and Hertford for various crimes and felonies?’
    ‘Misunderstandings!’ Blackshanks lifted the point of his sword. ‘Sir Philip Malpas,’ the felon turned to the left and right so that all could hear him, ‘is about to issue pardons. In the meantime, Cripplegate is without its scavengers because you, Master Roseblood, led them into a failed and bloody robbery. Accordingly,’ Blackshanks brought his sword back to rest the blade against his shoulder, ‘my two learned colleagues and my good self will take over all their duties, as we might well do here too.’
    ‘A former cleric, now a collector of shit!’ Raphael jeered.
    Blackshanks moved threateningly; his two companions brought up their swords and daggers. Katherine caught a glimpse of polished steel, the fresh leather war belts all three wolfsheads wore. She knew that these had either been recently purchased or were fresh from the armoury of her father’s enemies at the Guildhall. The three men had been sent here to proclaim her father’s imminent downfall; to weaken, even shatter the patronage he exercised. Her father, however, remained unperturbed. He stepped back, spreading his hands.
    ‘My friends, you are welcome.’
    Blackshanks’s shoulders drooped in disappointment. He glanced in surprise at his two companions.
    ‘You are most welcome,’ Roseblood insisted. ‘Some wine, some food, but not here, yes? Let us meet in the great tithe barn, where we can talk in private and reach some form of agreement. Ignacio, fetch what our guests want.’
    Katherine hurried from the taproom. She had heard about her father’s meetings in the barn, a place where he dispensed justice. She ran through the Great Cloister and into the kitchen bailey. Toadflax, one of her father’s leading scavengers, a captain of the cohort, stood on guard outside the barn. He stared bleary-eyed at Katherine, who lifted her finger to her lips as a sign of silence and fluttered her eyelids. Toadflax would do what she asked. Katherine had turned many a blind eye to the free pots of ale he quietly supped, not to mention his cogged dice,