A Trail of Ink Read Online Free PDF Page B

chamber, my stomach growled as loudly as Arthur’s snores. Arthur seemed not to notice.
    Master John was awaiting my arrival. His door squealed open on rusty hinges a heartbeat after I rapped my knuckles upon it. Why, I wondered, must those hinges protest so? Canterbury Hall and its buildings were but four years old. A scholar’s life is consumed with the ethereal, I think, while the realities are as lost to him as feathers upon the breeze. Greasing hinges is, to Master Wyclif, a gossamer reality.
    “Master Hugh, you slept well?”
    “Aye,” I lied.
    “I did also. For the first time in many days. You will soon find my books.”
    I was not so confident as Master John, but saw no purpose in disillusioning the hopeful scholar.
    “You did not rise for Matins,” Wyclif observed. “And I was loath to wake you. You must have rest, and your wits about you, if you are to find my books.”
    “If I am to do so I must first know all that happened the day they went missing. Especially I would know of any event out of the ordinary.”
    Master John scratched the back of his head, thought for a moment, then replied, “‘Twas a normal day. A lecture in the morning. After dinner a disputation… which was a little less disputatious, perhaps, than ordinary.”
    “How so?”
    “Canterbury Hall is a new foundation, created by the Archbishop four years past. ‘Twas begun with good intentions,” Wyclif sighed, “but as with many noble designs, things have gone much awry.

    “The Archbishop’s plan was to bridge the gap at Oxford between monks and secular fellows. So Canterbury Hall is to have four monks, from Canterbury, and eight secular scholars. There were four wardens before me, in but four years. The first was a monk of Canterbury. The secular scholars drove him out. The next were seculars, and the monks would not have them.”
    “There is much discord in the house?”
    “Ha,” Wyclif sniffed. “I have tried to calm my charges, but my soft answers have not turned away wrath. They argued before I came, and they will continue no matter what I do. The monks are particularly contentious. They wished for another of their house to be appointed warden. When this was not so they became angry. And as the secular fellows outnumber them two to one, they feel any criticism as a disparagement which must be promptly answered, else their antagonists will overwhelm them.”
    “And now each faction accuses the other of stealing your books?”
    “Aye. You overheard yesterday’s dispute?”
    “We did.”
    “As I am no monk, the secular fellows are convinced tis the monks who have done this… to force me out.”
    “And you, what do you think?”
    “Monks or seculars,” Wyclif mused, “it must be one or the other guilty.”
    “Not some thief from outside the Hall?”
    “The porter saw no stranger about the Hall.”
    “It was while you were at supper they were taken?”
    Aye.
    “So had some miscreant been about, it might have been too dark for the porter to see him?”
    “Aye,” Wyclif agreed.
    “Them scholars’ gowns is black,” Arthur commented from his corner. “Make ‘em hard to see of a night… did a man not want to be seen.”

    “While you supped, did any leave the table, seculars or monks?”
    “Nay,” Wyclif spoke firmly. “‘Tis a puzzle. No stranger sought entrance from the porter, nor was any such seen about. So the deed must have been done by one within the Hall. But we were all at supper.”
    “Your logic, Master John, is impeccable, as always. But it must be flawed. Even though all of your scholars, secular and monks, were at table, it seems sure that one of them, at least, gave guidance in this matter.”
    “To whom?”
    “Ah, you have me there. This is what I must search out. The porter says none were about, but as all the residents of the Hall were at their meal, there was surely one, or more, to do the theft.”
    Master John went to scratching the back of his head again. “Aye, it must be as