Free Hill of Bones by The Medieval Murderers

with Gwenllian. Was this evidence of a victim being manoeuvred into a desired location?
    Eldred nodded. ‘Prior Hugh stopped by this gate for a moment, to chat with me, then he went on his way. Walter was here, too.’
    ‘What did Hugh say?’ asked Cole.
    ‘He asked about Adam. I said I thought a wolf had killed him, although Walter disagreed, and repeated the bishop’s theory about an accident. But Hugh did not believe that nonsense – he was not stupid. And Adam’s wounds were not caused by falling on sharp stones. They were made by teeth. Wolf’s teeth.’
    ‘How do you know it was not a dog?’ asked Cole.
    ‘I just do,’ replied Eldred firmly. ‘And the same beast killed Hugh, because there cannot be two such creatures in the area.’
    Gwenllian regarded him sceptically. ‘Are you not afraid to be out here, then?’
    ‘I am safe enough in daylight. But there is a full moon the day after tomorrow, and wild horses will not drag me outside the abbey then.’
    Cole and Gwenllian argued about what they had learned as they walked back to the Angel. He was of the opinion that Dacus had trained an animal to kill. She believed the injuries could have been made by a weapon, and felt Savaric and his henchmen, the smugly pious Robert, Walter and the belligerent Pica made far more convincing suspects.
    ‘I know dogs,’ Cole insisted. ‘And I have Dacus’ measure, too. I am right, Gwen.’
    ‘But Bath is a small town. How could Dacus keep such a beast hidden? Someone would see it, and the game would be over.’
    He had no answer, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. A group of minstrels was singing near the abbey gates, and it was apparently an unusual event, because a crowd had gathered to listen. It included all their suspects. Frustrated by their lack of progress, Cole advanced on Bishop Savaric before Gwenllian could stop him.
    ‘Hugh’s throat was torn out,’ he said bluntly. ‘So was Adam’s. Yet you claim their deaths were accidental. Surely, you must see that is unlikely?’
    ‘Unlikely, but not impossible,’ replied Savaric curtly. ‘Besides, there are no wolves in Bath. You are wasting your time here, and I strongly advise you to leave the matter alone.’
    ‘You heard him,’ said Osmun, coming to loom menacingly. Fevil did the same, crowding forward in an effort to intimidate. Cole turned on him.
    ‘You accompanied Reginald to Canterbury, but you did not protect him from—’
    ‘How could he protect Reginald from a fever?’ sneered Osmun, interposing himself between them. ‘And it was a fever, not poison, before you make any unfounded accusations.’
    ‘We have already discussed this,’ said Savaric quickly, as hands dropped to the hilts of swords. ‘But I will repeat it. There is nothing suspicious about the deaths of Reginald, Adam or Hugh, no matter what the gossips tell you.’
    Cole stared at him for a moment, then stalked towards a gaggle of clerics that included Robert, Walter, Pica, Trotman and Lechlade. Savaric rolled his eyes when he saw his assurances had not been believed, and Osmun and Fevil exchanged furious glances. Gwenllian stifled a sigh. Antagonising men who might be murderers was reckless, and she wished her husband would leave the talking to her.
    ‘You told Hugh to climb Solsbury Hill,’ Cole said, homing in on Robert. ‘Why?’
    The sacrist jumped at the irate voice behind him, but quickly regained his composure. ‘Because he had spent the day agonising over Adam and Reginald. I suggested a walk to clear his head. Unfortunately, someone – or something – was waiting for him.’
    ‘Seraphim,’ nodded Trotman, pig-like face earnest. ‘With sharp claws.’
    ‘Nonsense,’ declared Pica. ‘Savaric killed them, just as he killed Reginald. He never saw eye to eye with Hugh, while Adam’s virtue put him in a bad light. He – or his henchmen – dispatched all three.’
    ‘No,’ said Robert quietly. ‘Reginald died of a fever. However, Adam and