‘This was not what we had in mind when we agreed to work for Deynman,’ said Frith the musician resentfully. ‘I do not like games of violence.’
‘I do,’ said Agatha, brazenly confrontational. ‘They sort the men from the boys.’
‘Oh?’ Frith’s eyes travelled insolently over Agatha’s formidable bulk. ‘And which are you?’
Agatha’s eyes narrowed, and powerful fingers tightened around her cudgel. ‘I am more man than you will ever hope to be.
Frith’s lips compressed into a hard, straight line. ‘Neither do I. Michaelhouse folk keep accusing us of stealing, but then the objects turn up a few days later, and it transpires they were just misplaced. You should watch what you say, woman. Defaming the character of innocent people is an offence that I am sure Sheriff Morice will prosecute.’
‘I am quite sure it is,’ murmured Michael to Bartholomew, so Frith would not hear. ‘Morice knows Colleges will pay to drop any charges that might bring them into disrepute.’
Bartholomew suspected the monk was right. However, the Waits were not stupid, and they had already weathered one encounter with the greedy Sheriff that had probably left them the poorer. They would know that levelling accusations against Michaelhouse would cost them money – especially since they had already demonstrated a fondness for other folks’ gold, so their honesty was compromised.
‘Morice will throw you in his gaol for thieving,’ declared Agatha hotly, glowering at Frith in a way that should have made any sane man back down. ‘And you and your friends will hang.’
‘Prove us thieves, then,’ challenged Frith, his voice dripping with disdain. ‘Search our possessions. You will find nothing amiss.’
‘I have already done that and he is right,’ murmured Cynric in Bartholomew’s ear. ‘The salt dish, Wynewyk’s inkpot and Ulfrid’s missing knife were not there. I do not understand: it is obvious they are the culprits, yet I cannot discover where they have hidden what they stole.’
‘Are you sure they are dishonest?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘I was under the impression that valuable things have been left lying around, but have been ignored. Why take a salt dish when they could have William’s gold nobles or the College silver?’
Cynric shook his head. ‘As I said, I do not understand them at all.’
‘You should leave Michaelhouse,’ said Agatha imperiously to Frith. ‘You are no longer welcome. I shall speak to Deynman, and have him dismiss you.’
Frith sneered. ‘Deynman cannot dismiss us. He signed a document that promised us food, shelter and employment for the whole Twelve Days. We will take it to Morice if you renege.’
‘That document was clever planning on their part,’ remarked Michael to Bartholomew. ‘Previous employers must have found them lacking, so they learned to draw up legal contracts outlining their terms in advance. Langelee would never have signed it, so they are lucky Deynman was elected Lord of Misrule: he is the only one stupid enough to put his mark to such a thing.’
‘Evicting them in this weather would be wicked, anyway,’ said Bartholomew gloomily. ‘We shall have to keep them until it breaks.’
‘We shall have to do no such thing,’ declared Agatha, overhearing him. ‘I do not care what happens to thieves. If they kept their hands to themselves and put on decent performances, we would not be having this discussion in the first place.’
‘Our performances are good,’ objected Makejoy, offended. ‘We are professionals!’
‘
Makejoy regarded Frith unhappily, and Bartholomew was under the impression she thought the aggressive laundress was right. Frith did not, however, and he moved up to Agatha until his face was only inches from hers. His voice was low and hoarse with menace.
‘Leave me alone, woman. And keep your nasty opinions to yourself.’
‘I think you should-’ began Bartholomew, wanting to warn Frith to back down before it was too late. Next to him, Cynric was laughing softly, while Michael watched Frith step into mortal danger with folded arms and an amused smile. Bartholomew never had the chance to complete his sentence. Agatha’s stick moved so fast that it was a blur. There was a sharp crack, and Frith crumpled to the floor at her feet.
‘Whoops,’ she said flatly. ‘How clumsy of me.’
‘He will be all right,’ said Bartholomew, kneeling quickly to inspect the fallen man before Makejoy could make a fuss. ‘He is just dazed. Take him back to Michaelhouse and tell him to spend the rest of the day quietly. He glanced up at Agatha. ‘You should watch what you do with that thing. You do not want to be charged with assault.’
