Secret Murder: Who Shall Judge? Read Online Free PDF Page B

business.”
    Hob and Joseph began untying the pack horses, while Father Hugh tried to untangle his donkey’s reins from the bushes they had somehow gotten woven in with. “Bless your mission, bailiff,” he said over his shoulder. “There’s a murderer among us, and suspicion eats at the soul. Catch him. Set our minds at peace.”
    The reins came loose. The donkey, sensing he was free, brayed and dashed away. Father Hugh went after him, habit flapping against his legs, crashing through the bushes. He caught a rein, then went tumbling on the ground in the process. He rose, dusted himself off, prayed vigorously to Saint Jerome for patience, and began admonishing the animal. The crowd, its tension released, laughed immoderately.
    Benedict pulled his group together, Hugh spoke firmly, and the bailiff and his men rode off toward the fairgrounds. The crowd began to mill about. Some clustered where Thorolf’s corpse had lain. Others left.
    All day long people stopped, drawn by the gawpers already there, were told what had happened, and in the process themselves drew more curious travelers. They, in turn, explained to the newcomers. The site was not deserted until the stars began to show, and some of the tales told by evening were truly strange and wonderful.

Chapter 3
     
    Monday:  Matilda and the Tavern
     
    Gervase and his men rode slowly, talking. Horseback can be a very private place, and they had much to say among themselves.
    The bailiff spoke first. “We have to find Thorolf’s horse, and Otkel said he thought Thorolf stayed at the fair to meet a woman. Finding her is, like as not, our most important job.”
    “That won’t be hard,” one of the troopers said. “It’s Matilda, the widow who runs the stables in Milltown. She has horses to rent at the fairgrounds.”
    Gervase raised his brows. “Otkel didn’t know that.”
    “Otkel may be a fine lieutenant—but would you tell him the secrets of your soul? Leif knew of Matilda. He’s the stocky Northman with the red beard and crucifix. The others seemed shaken from loss of leadership in a foreign land. Leif, I think, mourned a friend.”
    “It must have been lonesome, being Thorolf,” the bailiff mused.
    “Leif seemed to think that, too. But Matilda was always pleasant to Thorolf. She’s from Milltown, so he didn’t see her nearly as often as he spoke of her. They met again yesterday, and Leif says Thorolf was absent-minded afterwards. He sent the rest of them back to Northlanding like a man who’s made up his mind.”
    “We’ll leave our horses at Matilda’s paddock,” Gervase said decisively. “I want to see her.
    “Now, we must plan the rest of our investigations. Matilda might solve this for us—but when have we ever been fortunate enough to have the answer drop into our laps like that, hm?”
    “Last fall. Remember we stopped at the Dancing Bear to ask if travelers had seen the robber we were after? And there he was, drunk as a monk in the corner.” Dirk had a weakness for interrupting.
    “Hm. Thank you, Dirk. That’s once, men, once in the last year. The rest, we had to work for.” The bailiff paused a moment. “And Dirk has told me how we will go about it.
    “We can speak directly with Matilda—but Ragnar is a formidable man, and has a large crew. We’ll want more information before we discuss Otkel’s accusation with him. Ragnar knows Dirk and myself, so the rest of you will have to investigate him.
    “Dirk and I will be at the tavern. You’ll know where to find us, and taverns are filled with active tongues. We should pass the time profitably.”
    Planks echoed as their horses crossed a small wooden bridge and came onto the fairgrounds proper. They turned to the left, and rode toward Matilda’s paddock.
    The fair covered the meadow like Joseph’s coat come to life. Merchants, porters, locals, beggarmen dressed in clothes of many hues, lands, conditions, and estates mingled in harmonious disputation. A juggler held a small