The Midnight Man

Words Amongst the Pilgrims

The physician paused in his tale and filled his water cup. This time no one stirred; his fellow pilgrims realized he was approaching the climax of his story and waited restlessly. Chaucer glanced swiftly around. The haberdasher was drinking so heavily, Chaucer wondered if the man would be fit to ride the next morning. The Wife of Bath’s plump red cheeks were wet with tears. The summoner just sat with a sombre look on his face.

‘I remember this.’ The knight spoke up. ‘I, too, was on secret business for the Crown. There were whispers about blood-drinkers roaming the streets and alleyways close to the river, though they weren’t the monsters I hunt. And the fire? I was in London at the time. In the end a fine new church was built. Sir William must have. .’

‘Hush now, Sir Godfrey,’ the physician called out. ‘Softly, let me finish.’ The knight nodded in agreement, going back to cradling his tankard.

‘Yet this tale is certainly true.’ The usually taciturn shipman spoke up. ‘Master physician, I have kept a still tongue in my head but I was on board the cog which Rishanger tried to reach. I served my apprenticeship with its captain,’ he grinned sourly, ‘from whom I learned so much. I watched Rishanger’s clash with those assassins on the quayside, his flight up river.’

‘Oh, yes,’ the physician assured him. ‘This is all true.’

‘Cloaked in secrecy, it was,’ the franklin rose, fingering his snow-white beard.

‘What was?’ the friar demanded.

‘The business at Saint Michael’s,’ the franklin replied, pointing at the physician. ‘A hideous tragedy, yes?’

‘Gentle pilgrims all,’ the physician stretched out his hands, ‘please let me finish my tale.’