A Play of Knaves Read Online Free PDF Page B

That gives him more sway in matters than he’d otherwise have.” In obvious echo of his elders, he added, “He uses it ill, too. He’s been buying up grazing rights for his sheep and then overcrowding the pasture-lands. So far Master Kyping hasn’t been able to curb him.”
    “Master Kyping?” Basset asked.
    “He’s the abbey’s bailiff for its lands in this half of the Vale. He answers to Master Carswell, the abbey’s steward, but Master Carswell only comes at quarter-years, so mostly it’s my father and Master Kyping who have to deal with the Medcotes.”
    “Ah,” said Basset with flattering interest. They had stopped at a gateway into a field, probably where they were to be left, but before Nicholas could say anything in parting, Basset asked, “Medcote is new here, then?”
    “He’s from Wantage and doesn’t belong here at all. The manor came to him by way of his wife after . . .” Nicholas suddenly fumbled, turned red, steadied himself, and said in a rapid mumble, “. . . after her cousin died and she inherited.”
    “While your family has been here far longer, having the village name and all,” Basset said, pretending not to see that stumble.
    “Yes,” Nicholas agreed. But all his eager urge to talk was gone. He gestured through the open gateway, saying rapidly while gathering his reins and readying to mount, “This is Grescumb Field. There’s a stream among the trees there, and you can take what wood you need for your fire.” He swung into his saddle, finishing, “If you come to the house a little before sundown, you’ll be in good time to perform at supper, my father says,” and was turning his horse away even as Basset thanked him and gave assurance they would be there.
    Basset stood and watched him ride back the way they had come. Joliffe, starting Tisbe into the tight turn through the gateway into the field, asked dryly, “You don’t suppose we’ve learned what we came for, do you? That something about Medcote upsets Nicholas Ashewell?”
    “I doubt that’s a secret to anybody,” Basset answered as dryly. “I’d say, though, that we’ve moved nicely into the center of the trouble this Master Kyping the bailiff is worried over.”
    “Ashewell has done well enough by us, anyway,” Ellis said. “Look at this place.”
    Untilled and ungrazed, Grescumb Field was surely going to be hayed come high summer, but presently the grass’ young green was scattered with cowslips’ yellow flowers and the fire-red sparks of campion. The young-leaved hedges on three sides gave good privacy, while the fourth side was mostly thickly grown alders and willows except where a wide gap marked a ford across the stream there to the ploughed field beyond, hazed with the green of newly sprouting wheat, the hope of a harvest better than last year’s.
    With no need to talk out a choice, the players, Tisbe, and their cart headed for that gap, Piers flinging himself into half a dozen cartwheels and then running ahead to disappear down the shallow slope to the stream. By the time the rest of them reached the top of the slope, he was sitting on a stump beside the water, pulling off hosen, his shoes already cast aside. Intent on wading into the clear, shallow-running water, he did not look up as the cart creaked to a stop at the edge of the trees and the other players stood smiling down at him with the same smile Joliffe knew was on his own face. As traveling players, they had stayed in places ranging from ghastly to good enough to pleasing. Here was a very pleasing place, with grazing for Tisbe and water and wood close at hand, and they would have it not just for the one night but for probably four.
    Joliffe clucked to Tisbe and turned her to draw the cart aside from the ford a few yards but still sheltered near the trees. That brought him around and looking back toward the downs, unseen since the players had taken to the narrow lane into Ashewell village. From here, with the field open around him, the