The House of Crows

alone.
    ‘Nonsense!’ he whispered.
    He saw a small hole in the far corner; going across he undid the clasp of the cage, grasped Ferrox’s thin, muscular body and, in a blink of an eye, the ferret disappeared down the hole. Ranulf walked back into the passageway and despatched Audax in a similar fashion.
    ‘Now the dance begins,’ Ranulf muttered, quoting his favourite phrase.
    He sat down, undid the small bundle he carried, and ate the bread and cheese his eldest daughter had wrapped for him in a linen cloth. The rat-catcher tried to close his ears to all sounds, except for that of his two ferrets now engaged in a busy, bloody massacre under the floorboards. Time and again Ferrox and Audax reappeared, carrying in their sharp teeth the corpse of some hapless rat. They dropped these at their master’s feet before disappearing again.
    Ranulf felt a warm glow of satisfaction and bit deeply into the bread and cheese. But suddenly he heard a different sound. No rat or ferret could make the footfall he heard in the gallery above. Someone was moving there, slithering along the floorboards. Ranulf, a piece of cheese in his hand, rose and walked to the bottom of the stairs. He peered up into the gloom and almost choked on the cheese: on the top of the stairs was the demon of St Erconwald’s! Large, dark and furry, teeth bared, its face so terrifying that Ranulf forgot about his ferrets and fled for his life.

    Cranston and Athelstan followed Sir Miles Coverdale through Jericho Parlour of Westminster Abbey, across Deans Yard and along the south cloister towards the chapter-house. Every often they passed Cheshire archers resplendent in their green lvery and white hart emblem. These were professional soldiers om the garrisons at the Tower or Baynard’s Castle; hair Cropped, faces dark and lean. All carried longbows and a quiver of twenty yew arrows, as well as sword and dagger! Men-at-arms wearing the red, blue and gold royal livery also I stood on guard at every door and on every corner.
    ‘Why so many soldiers?’Cranston asked as they entered the cloisters.
    ‘His Grace the Regent is determined that the Commons be allowed to sit unmolested,’ Coverdale replied. ‘No one enters the cloisters or chapter-house who is not either a member of Parliament or one of the royal clerks commissioned to assist them in their discussions.’
    ‘Don’t the Commons ever object?’ Cranston declared. ‘Some might claim the soldiers overawe them.’
    ‘Aye, some addle-brains might say that, but there are no soldiers in the chapter-house, Sir John, whilst the good knights and burgesses are free to come and go as they wish.’
    They entered the eastern cloister where some monks, taking full advantage of the spring sunshine, now sat at their desks, copying or illuminating manuscripts. In the centre garth, soldiers played checkerboard games whilst a few conversed with the monks.
    ‘The brothers certainly welcome our presence,’ Coverdale declared.
    ‘It’s the same in any enclosed community,’ Athelstan replied ‘Always eager for fresh faces, or to indulge in gossip about the great ones of the land.’
    They entered the vestibule to the chapter-house. A line of archers stood in front of the closed double doors. Whilst one of them unlocked these, Athelstan stood back and admired the gloriously carved stone triptych above the doorway, showing Christ in Judgement.
    ‘I thought the session was finished,’ Cranston declared.
    ‘It is, but the doors are always locked,’ Coverdale replied. ‘The representatives have only to knock and they’ll be allowed in or out. Each of them possesses a special seal or pass.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Our regent is thorough.’
    Cranston did not disagree. They entered the outer vestibule and went along a marble corridor lined by Purbeck marble columns. Just before they came to a second set of doors, Athelstan stopped, noticing flights of stairs to his left and, on his right, another staircase going down into the darkness. ‘Where do these lead?’ he asked.
    ‘The steps going up lead to St Faith’s Chapel,’ Coverdale replied. ‘The others will take you down to the Pyx chamber.’ Athelstan was about to ask about the latter, but Coverdale was already snapping his fingers at the guards to open the next set of doors. These were unlocked and swung back and they entered the chapter-house itself. It was deserted except for one balding, dark-faced, fussy little man who stood at the lectern. He