Free A Holy Vengeance by Maureen Ash Page B

assent and told the manservant to show him up and to bring some refreshment for his comfort.
    A few moments later, the dean was shown into the room and a flagon of herbal cordial flavoured with honey was set on a table near the unlit fireplace. Motioning her guest to be seated, she returned to her own chair.
    Dean Roger was a man of young years for his office. He was of medium height, a bit pudgy, and had kindly blue eyes. Mild mannered and equable, he was popular with the other clerics in the town and also the townsfolk.
    “Bishop William has sent me to enquire into the progress that is being made in the search for the murderer of the young woman at St. Dunstan’s shrine.”
    Bishop William’s full name was William of Blois, and he had just been elected to his post the previous year. The see had been vacant for over two years after the death of the saintly Hugh of Avalon, and William had finally been appointed. So far, he had proved himself very capable in his new office.
    “We are not much further forward than when her body was found,” Nicolaa replied. “Why is the bishop concerned about the matter?”
    Dean Roger took a sip from his cup before speaking. “Even though the murder took place only yesterday, lady, there is a burgeoning panic in the town. Rumour is rife and they are fearful.”
    “How so?” Nicolaa asked.
    “Because it is being said that Satan is responsible, either by taking on the shape of a man and committing the evil deed Himself, or by sending a demon to possess some hapless individual and forcing him to kill on hallowed ground. The whole populace is now afraid that this devilish assailant will seek out another holy place to commit murder and, as a result, are reluctant to attend Mass lest they, too, be struck down.”
    The dean placed his cup down beside him and raised troubled eyes to Nicolaa. “Mass at the cathedral this morning was attended by only a faithful few, and even they were full of anxiety, not giving full attention to the service but looking around them continuously, each one at his neighbour, wondering if the killer was amongst them. I have been told this also happened in most of the other churches in Lincoln today.”
    Nicolaa was horror-stricken. “But this panic is unwarranted. There is no proof that the Devil was involved; the simple facts are that a young woman was stabbed to death by an unknown assailant, and that is all.”
    Dean Roger shook his head sadly. “Logic will not prevail here, lady, I regret to say. The only way to quell their fear is for the murderer to be caught and his motive proved to be an earthly one. If this does not happen soon, I fear our houses of worship will be empty and, whether or not Satan is responsible, He will surely rejoice at the outcome.”
    Nicolaa stirred uneasily in her chair. There were many references in the Bible to men and women being possessed by demons and, as much as she did not want to believe that such was the case in this death, she could not, with any surety, deny that it was a possibility.
    “Bishop William has promised to reconsecrate St. Dunstan’s shrine in the hope it will allay alarm,” the dean continued, “but it would, of course, greatly assist our purpose if the murderer was captured and the people’s fear put to rest. That is why I am come, to enquire if you are hopeful of an early arrest.”
    “I cannot answer your question with any certainty,” Nicolaa replied. “I shall do my utmost to discover the murderer’s identity with all speed but, as I am sure you will agree, the outcome is in God’s hands, not mine.”
    “Just so, lady,” the dean replied. Thanking her politely for her time, he drained his cup and rose from his seat. “The bishop would be obliged if you would keep him apprised of the situation and has asked me to relay to you his assurance that if he can be of any assistance in the search for the assailant, you have only to ask and his help will be given.”
    Nicolaa felt a great weight