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By Margaret Frazer

THE PLAY'S the object, TO seize THE moral sense OF A KILLER...

The Christmas season brings unusual site visitors to the medieval nunnery of St. Frideswide's while a troupe of penniless avid gamers comes knocking on the gate. They undergo with them the badly mangled physique of a villager, swearing they discovered the drunken idiot mendacity in a ditch. yet Meg, the victim's spouse and a scullery maid of the cloister, thinks there are a long way fouler deeds afoot.

As the avid gamers rehearse for the nativity, historical scandals lick at their heels and darkish desperation haunts Meg's steps as she reveals merciless feudal legislation threatening to strip away the lands that may help either her and her sons within the wake of her husband's death.

Dame Frevisse needs to thrust herself among those violent feuds, awakening goals of her formative years that she had believed lengthy buried. Her very religion might be threatened, yet Frevisse understands she needs to get to the bottom of a route to actual salvation... ahead of fake raptures of lust deliver ruination upon them all.

NOMINATED FOR THE 1994 EDGAR AWARD

PRAISE FOR THE SERVANT'S TALE

"Period element, adroit characterizations, and energetic discussion upload to the excitement of this labyrinthine tale." - Publishers Weekly

"This secret is so wealthy with position and time that they turn into characters within the tale. Dame Frevisse is a stalwart, attractive sleuth and the chilly, darkish priory and the squalor of Medieval England are interesting backdrops." - New Orleans Times-Picayune

"The writing is seamless... the ambience of the booklet is chilly and blustery, possibility afield. A well-steeped experience of background prevails... They make this novel greater than a secret, yet an excellent old darkish tapestry. we're transported again to the 14th century. one of many 10 most sensible secret novels of 1993." - Minneapolis big name Tribune

"I watch for extra murders at St. Frideswide." - The secret Review

"Frazer by no means falters during this exceptional historical... this can be a ideal secret: it truly is flawless." - Drood evaluate of Mystery

PRAISE FOR THE SISTER FREVISSEE MEDIEVAL secret SERIES

"Exciting writing, colourful characters, and historic accuracy." - St. Paul Pioneer Press

"Tale[s] of puzzle, intrigue, jealousy and ambition, good drawn, good paced, and a excitement to read." - Historical Novels Review

"The sequence will get higher and higher because it is going along." - Grounds for Mystery

"Margaret Frazer has quietly claimed her position as one of many preeminent writers of historic crime fiction, offering the entire package deal - an exceptional secret, magnificent characters, and a desirable interval of background. [...] Her novels are a dream to read." - Aunt Agatha's Newsletter

"Frazer's quiet but excessive medieval mysteries are so vividly and gracefully written you simply go with the flow again in time..." - The Poisoned Pen

"A delicate and soaking up saga of conspiracy and treachery in 15th-century England..." - Publishers Weekly

A Romantic instances most sensible Pick.

Twice nominated for the Minnesota ebook Award.
Twice nominated for the Edgar Award.

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And also you may consider grasp Naylor, too,” Frevisse stated acidly, unheard. Distracted, the lads begun pulling again from their sufferer, helped through Naylor’s ultimate shoves and curses. “It’s sufficient, rattling you,” he knotted up. “Pull again. You’ve performed sufficient. ” “More than enough,” Dame Claire stated. Frevisse used to be all at once acutely aware that Dame Claire used to be without delay in the back of her. Now with a reined anger and unshaken nerves, the infirmarian went in one of the males. They simply yielded to her passing, and he or she went to her knees beside the guy they'd been pummeling. At her voice he warily uncurled from the ball he had made from himself. Naylor grabbed a torch from an individual and held it for Dame Claire to work out him greater. Frevisse, with dismay, well-known Ellis. yet he appeared little damage. A smear of blood from a few reduce hidden in his hair used to be trailing down his cheek in entrance of his ear, and he was once preserving one hand to the again of his head and the opposite to his ribs, yet he seemed up at Dame Claire with a grimace and acknowledged, “Thank God there have been such a lot of of them. they may have made a reliable task of it differently. ” “Let me feel,” Dame Claire ordered, pulling his hand clear of his aspect. Frevisse, leaving her to it, grew to become savagely at the males round her. “So what do you suggest, coming like this, laying palms on a visitor of the priory? ” the fellow who had approximately hit her, squarely outfitted, with a blunt face and blunter manners, stated, “He’s stabbed younger Sym. We come to get him ’fore he might be away. ” “You pursued him even into the following? ” “Pursued be damned,” Ellis acknowledged. He winced from Dame Claire’s probing at his ribs. “They dragged me out of the guesthall. the place I’ve been seeing that good ahead of sunset and nowhere close to this Sym. ” “It have been a participant performed it. His mam acknowledged so. stated he stated so. And it’s you he fought with this morning,” the guy acknowledged. “That doesn’t suggest I did it. ” Ellis flinched as Dame Claire parted his hair to discover his wound. “I haven’t left the following this night and I’ve no longer been stabbing a person. ” “No,” Joliffe stated with dispassionate vanity. “But I most likely did. ” He was once status within the guesthall doorway, with darkness in the back of him and the crimson flare of torchlight in entrance, catching and wasting his ultimately drawn beneficial properties as he additional, as though frivolously amused, “But you all got here in so unexpected and grabbed so quickly with out announcing why, you by no means gave me likelihood to assert, did you? ” “You bench-bred cur—” the blunt-faced guy stated, commencing to movement towards him. Roger Naylor stepped in entrance of the guy, dealing with Joliffe, and stated a similar factor that used to be in Frevisse’s brain. “So what do you suggest, announcing a idiot factor love it used to be ‘probably’ you who stabbed him? You don’t glance under the influence of alcohol sufficient not to comprehend no matter if you knifed a guy or now not. ” “I’m no longer inebriated at all,” Joliffe replied. Frevisse had noticeable his mouth tighten on the villager’s insult yet his voice was once nonetheless as informal as ahead of. purely the flicker in his eyes was once risky, telling her he knew precisely what he used to be doing in drawing the boys off Ellis to himself. “I went to that little rathole of an alehouse yet I’d hardly ever sat myself down while this Sym of yours made up our minds he didn’t wish me there.

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