The Boy-Bishop's Glovemaker Read Online Free

a keen delight in the cold, ice and snow. He loved the starkness of the landscape, the bare trees, fields empty and brown, while the water solidified and stopped in the stream-beds. All the world appeared to pause and take stock, waiting for God’s renewal, just as the whole of mankind would soon be forced to stop in its mad onward rush and consider its position as the Day of Judgement approached. Winter reminded him that before too long, God willing, he would be able to join his wife in Heaven. As was his wont, he glanced upwards at the thought and murmured a short but devout prayer before continuing on his way.
    Which is why he wasn’t looking where he was going and accidentally got in the path of a cleric who was running full pelt towards him.
    ‘Oh, I’m . . .’ There was a squeak of shock, and the cleric fled.
    The collision was so forceful, Ralph was winded. He staggered backwards into a man behind him, and had to grasp the stranger’s shoulder to save himself from falling.
    ‘Clumsy damned fool,’ the man growled in a deep voice as the figure in clerical garb hared off towards the Fissand Gate and darted into the Close.
    ‘The enthusiasm of youth, I fear, friend,’ Ralph gasped. He stood a while with a hand on his heart and caught his breath. ‘I am easy to stumble into, I’m afraid,’ he continued with a better humour. ‘It’d be different if I were a young maiden with tits out to here and a saucy smile, but I’m just an old fat man with a belly like a hog’s. Let me release you, I must be straining your shoulder. I assure you I’m better now.’
    ‘Are you sure, Master Glover? You lost all the air in your lungs for a while there.’
    Ralph recognised the voice and squinted at the man. Years of careful, close work had made it difficult for him to focus, but he was sure that he knew him. ‘My lord?’
    ‘Don’t fear, Ralph. It is I, Canon Stephen. My Heavens, he must have hit you hard! Did you see who it was?’
    ‘No,’ Ralph lied, smiling. He had no intention of having a youthful cleric like poor Peter the Secondary reprimanded for a minor accident – especially when it was largely Ralph’s own fault for not looking where he was going. In addition, Ralph knew that even the lowest groups of clerics lived within the Cathedral’s grounds, and yet here was Peter outside before full light: he had probably been tempted by a girl with a pleasing smile, or maybe had fallen asleep before a fire with a belly full of ale. Whatever the reason, Ralph had no wish to see the lad punished. With a polite bow and a smiling ‘Godspeed,’ Ralph left the unsettling Canon to continue on his way. Ralph himself turned back so that he need not enter with the Canon.
    The Bear Gate was open as always and Ralph passed beneath the great gatehouse into the large triangular yard beyond, slowly plodding up the shallow gradient until he stood in front of the huge western doors of the Cathedral.
    Ralph knew he was a simple man. Many of his friends and competitors in the city thought him almost idiotic in his straightforward belief, but he didn’t care about their sniggers. To Ralph, the proof of his faith was here, in the massive building still being rebuilt, where the Canons, Vicars, Annuellars and Choristers gathered each day to sing the praises of the Lord God.
    Inside, the silence assailed his ears; it was a great void into which any sound was swallowed. This early in the morning there were only a few Secondaries around, for the most part ex-Choristers whose voices had broken and were hoping to find some new occupation. They were often to be found performing minor tasks about the place and today Ralph could see three of them lighting candles up near the altar as he walked in. Apart from them there were few people in the nave this early in the morning. Ralph didn’t spot his own murderer, who had watched his entrance and now stood in the shadow of one of the huge pillars.
    It was wonderful: the broad, spacious area