John had not the slightest doubt that the incident was staged. The men had venison in their saddlebags. Strictly speaking, he should have reported them to the bishop's bailiffs because the deer was taken on the bishop's land. Common sense told him to say nothing and avoid antagonising the pair. He had paid them off and would return to Sherborne by the direct route. He went to the cathedral and a familiar exchange of pleasantries ensued.

'We insist on providing hospitality, Master Baret.'

'I couldn't possibly impose on you.'

'But the weather is so inclement.'

'A little more rain won't hurt me.'

There was something ritualistic about it. The exchange followed a familiar pattern and reached an inevitable conclusion. Servants were summoned. A stable hand took care of his horse. A porter took him to his room and a laundress took his wet garments to the drying chamber.

His room was on the upper floor of the visitors' lodge. This was separate from the monks' quarters and occupied an entire wing of the monastic complex. It catered for the needs of travellers and people, such as himself, who were visiting the cathedral on business. It also provided free accommodation for officers of the royal court who were keen to save money.

John unstrapped his travel bag and removed a clean set of clothes. They were crumpled but dry. He laid them out and was selecting suitable attire when a servant arrived with a bucket of hot water and filled his washbasin. Another turned and beat the mattress on his bed, inspecting it for fleas and bedbugs. The latter service was greatly appreciated. John waged a constant war against these unwanted intruders. All bedding in his household was regularly beaten and hung in the sun. The big risk was reinfestation. He suspected that his guests, including members of the Gascoigne family, were the chief culprits.

He washed and dressed for dinner. As always, when visiting Salisbury, he selected garments of a sombre nature, avoiding anything flamboyant and anything that might associate him with a merchant guild. The business classes were regarded as upstarts in aristocratic circles and there was no shortage of aristocrats in the cathedral.

He left his room and went downstairs. The behaviour of the Welshmen continued to worry him. The whole purpose of his visit was to present an image of sobriety and decorum. A casual onlooker could have mistaken him for the head of a band of ruffians.

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To his surprise, Canon Peter was waiting to greet him at the entry to the dining hall. He'd not expected to meet such a senior member of the bishop's administration so soon. He knew the canon from previous visits that he had made as a trustee of the almshouse, but their dealings had always been of a business nature.




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