By P. C. Doherty
As evening units in, Chaucer’s weary pilgrims locate themselves in a Kent copse, rumored to be haunted. Huddling round the hearth, they convince the Clerk of Oxford to inform a ghostly story of affection and loss of life that might extra kick back their blood...
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Extra info for A Haunt of Murder
Be careful how you tell this part,’ Lady Anne warned. ‘Well, Lady Johanna asked why, so that scion of Satan told her the truth. ’ Beatrice exclaimed. ’ Sir John drank from his cup and smacked his lips. ‘Well, that’s why they call it the Midnight Tower. ’ Marisa asked. ’ Sir John’s eyes widened. ‘There are storerooms in that part now, passageways and galleries. ’ ‘That’s enough,’ Lady Anne declared. ‘You’ll frighten us all. ’ The conversation turned to other events. Father Aylred expressed his concern at the discontent in Maldon and the outlying villages where the peasants fumed and seethed with anger at the impositions laid on them by the great lords who held their wages down and kept them shackled to the soil.
She and Ralph should be lying like this. Why her? Why now? And before Crispin could say another word, she turned and fled down the stairs. Crispin called after her but Beatrice didn’t care. She crashed into the wall and slipped but felt no pain. She stopped and laughed hysterically. A silver disc hovered above her. She drove it away with her hand as a child would a ball. She reached the bottom of the tower and stopped. A woman blocked her way. Tall, hair as black as a raven’s wing, her face could have been beautiful but it was white and ghastly with red-rimmed, staring eyes.
Sir John’s eyes widened. ‘There are storerooms in that part now, passageways and galleries. ’ ‘That’s enough,’ Lady Anne declared. ‘You’ll frighten us all. ’ The conversation turned to other events. Father Aylred expressed his concern at the discontent in Maldon and the outlying villages where the peasants fumed and seethed with anger at the impositions laid on them by the great lords who held their wages down and kept them shackled to the soil. ‘They are only poor earthworms,’ Father Aylred said.