An Order for Death Read Online Free PDF

you recognise them again?’ asked Walcote hopefully. ‘It was daylight, which is unusual. Most of these riots take place
     at night, when the perpetrators stand a better chance of escaping under cover of darkness once they have had their fill of
     violence.’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ replied Bartholomew. ‘They were not happy to see their prey snatched from under their noses and told me so. We
     exchanged quite a few unpleasant words before I left.’
    Michael’s expression was dark with anger. ‘They threatened you, did they? I shall see they pay for that with a few nights
     in the proctors’ cells – whether they confess to murdering Faricius of Abington or not.’
    ‘I cannot believe that the Dominicans and the Carmelites are behaving like this,’ said Walcote, his eyes fixed on the still
     figure under the sheet. ‘I know we Austin canons are no angels, and that there are occasional fights between individuals,
     but we do not march as a body on rival Orders.’
    ‘Nor do we Benedictines,’ said Michael in a superior manner. ‘There are better ways of resolving differences than resorting
     to fists.’
    ‘I am surprised their priors did nothing to stop it,’ Walcote went on disapprovingly. ‘Could they not see what consequences
     their students’ actions might have – the damagethat committing a murder might have on their community here in Cambridge?’
    ‘They will see what the consequences are when I get my hands on them,’ said Michael grimly.
    Michael ordered four of his beadles to construct a stretcher of two planks of wood and some strips of cloth, and then instructed
     them to carry Faricius to St Botolph’s, the church nearest the Carmelite Friary. Walcote was dispatched to fetch Prior Lincolne,
     which was no easy task given that the Carmelites were not currently responding to yells and bangs on the door. Once he had
     alerted Lincolne to the fact that one of his number was dead, Walcote was to go to the Dominican property on Hadstock Way,
     to ensure all the rioting Black Friars had returned home and were not still prowling the streets intent on mischief.
    ‘This is a bad business, Matt,’ said Michael, holding open the door to St Botolph’s, so that the beadles could carry their
     grisly burden inside. Bartholomew noticed that Faricius was dripping blood, and that a trail of penny-sized droplets ran between
     the Stanmore property and the church. ‘We have had no serious trouble since last November, when Runham dismissed my choir
     and attempted to cheat the workmen he had employed to rebuild Michaelhouse. I was hoping the calm would continue.’
    ‘It has been calm because we have had a long winter,’ explained Beadle Meadowman, struggling to manhandle Faricius through
     the narrow door without tipping him off the stretcher. ‘It has been too chilly to go out fighting. Scholars and townsfolk
     alike would rather sit by their fires than be out causing mischief in the cold.’
    Meadowman, a solid, dependable man in his forties, had been recruited by Michael as a University law officer following the
     dissolution of the hostel in which he had been a steward. He undertook the varied and frequently unpleasant duties of a beadle
     as stoically and unquestioningly as he had the orders of his previous master, a manwhose intentions were far from scholarly. Meadowman was a good beadle, and Michael was well satisfied with him.
    ‘That is true,’ agreed Bartholomew. ‘The early snows and the frosts that followed killed a lot of people. It was especially
     hard on the older ones, like poor Dunstan the riverman. I did not think he would see another Easter, but he refuses to die.’
    ‘But our students are not elderly men who need blazing hearths to warm their ancient bones,’ said Michael. ‘I was really beginning
     to feel that the worst of our troubles were over, and that the town and the University had finally learned to tolerate each
     other’s presence – and that the religious Orders had