Read A Play of Dux Moraud Online

Authors: Margaret Frazer

A Play of Dux Moraud

Table of Contents
 
 
The Middle Ages Come to Life . . . To Bring Us Murder.
A Play of Isaac
 
“The player Joliffe appeared occasionally in Frazer’s delightful series featuring the nun Dame Frevisse. Now he has his own story . . . In the course of the book, we learn a great deal about theatrical customs of the fifteenth century, including intricate details of stagecraft, costume construction and the like. In the hands of a lesser writer, it could seem preachy; for Frazer, it is another element in a rich tapestry.”—
Contra Costa Times
(CA)
 
“Careful research and a profusion of details, especially those dealing with staging a fifteenth-century miracle play, bring the sights, smells and sounds of the era directly to the reader’s senses. There’s also a fine sense of history, all woven together in a medieval tapestry of rich colors.
“Looking over Ms. Frazer’s impressive list of novels already to her credit, I can see a lot of pleasurable reading ahead. I especially look forward to meeting Joliffe and the players again.”—
Round Table Reviews
 
“The mystery, and the events surrounding it, are played out quite naturally through Joliffe’s unquenchable curiosity. For lovers of mystery and lovers of history, this is a find; a mystery backed by solid research. I hope to see much more of this likable group in future volumes.”

Romance Readers Connection
 
“A terrific historical who-done-it that will please amateur sleuth and historical mystery fans.”

Midwest Book Review
Praise for The Dame Frevisse Medieval Mystery Series By Two-Time Edgar
®
Award Nominee Margaret Frazer “An exceptionally strong series . . . full of the richness of the fifteenth century, handled with the care it deserves.”

Minneapolis Star Tribune
 
The Hunter’s Tale
“Will please both Frevisse aficionados and historical mystery readers new to the series.”—
Booklist
 
The Bastard’s Tale
“Anyone who values high historical drama will feel amply rewarded . . . Of note is the poignant and amusing relationship between Joliffe and Dame Frevisse. History fans will relish every minute they spend with the characters in this powerfully created medieval world. Prose that at times verges on the poetic.”—
Publishers Weekly
 
The Clerk’s Tale
“As usual, Frazer vividly recreates the medieval world through meticulous historical detail [and] remarkable scholarship . . . History aficionados will delight and fans will rejoice that the devout yet human Dame Frevisse is back . . . a dramatic and surprising conclusion.”

Publishers Weekly
 
The Novice’s Tale
“Frazer uses her extensive knowledge of the period to create an unusual plot . . . appealing characters and crisp writing.” —
Los Angeles Times
 
The Servant’s Tale
“A good mystery . . . excellently drawn . . . very authentic . . . the essence of a truly historical story is that the people should feel and believe according to their times. Margaret Frazer has accomplished this extraordinarily well.”—Anne Perry
The Outlaw’s Tale
“A tale well told, filled with intrigue and spiced with romance and rogues.”—
School Library Journal
 
The Bishop’s Tale
“Some truly shocking scenes and psychological twists.”

Mystery Loves Company
 
The Boy’s Tale
“This fast-paced historical mystery comes complete with a surprise ending—one that will hopefully lead to another ‘Tale’ of mystery and intrigue.”—
Affaire de Coeur
 
The Murderer’s Tale
“The period detail is lavish, and the characters are full-blooded.” —
Minneapolis Star Tribune
 
The Prioress’ Tale
“Will delight history buffs and mystery fans alike.”

Murder Ink
 
The Maiden’s Tale
“Great fun for all lovers of history with their mystery.”

Minneapolis Star Tribune
 
The Reeve’s Tale
“A brilliantly realized vision of a typical medieval English village . . . Suspenseful from start to surprising conclusion . . . another gem.”

Publishers Weekly
(starred review)
 
The Squire’s Tale
“Meticulous detail that speaks of trustworthy scholarship and a sympathetic imagination.”—
The New York Times
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
 
A PLAY OF DUX MORAUD
 
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
 
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / August 2005
 
Copyright © 2005 by Gail Frazer.
 
The Edgar® name is a registered service mark of the Mystery Writers of America, Inc.
 
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Purchase only authorized editions.
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eISBN: 9781101378601
 
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks
belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
 
 

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Maydyn so louely and komly of syte,
I prey thee for loue thou wyl lystyn to me; To here my resun I prey thee wel tythe,
Loue so deryn me most schewe to thee . . .
Anonymous,
Dux Moraud
Chapter 1
The summons from Lord Lovell came while they were packing their goods away for the last time before taking to the road again. The playing had gone well. There was no reason for alarm, but out of long habit a quick, assessing look passed among the five of them. Their small company had been Lord Lovell’s players for hardly three months. For years before that they had been lordless, with no protection in their travels and work except other people’s goodwill and their own wits.
So wariness still came readily, and before the servant was further than, “Lord Lovell has asked you come . . .” Basset, Ellis, and Joliffe were looking at each other, silently asking why, and Rose’s face was gone very still, and even half-grown Piers had frozen out of his happy talk into watching his mother and the others as the servant finished, “. . . to him, Master Basset, if you please. And the one of you called Joliffe.”
With lordly graciousness, no outward sign of alarm, and a slight bow of his head, Basset said, “It is our honor and pleasure to obey.”
Rose immediately came to straighten the upright collar of his doublet and twitch the folds of his surcoat to hang better from his shoulders. She was the only woman in the company and keeper of all their clothing, both for their plays and otherwise. Not that there was much “otherwise” about them. They had been a poor, small playing company for a long while, with almost everything they earned spent to keep them barely going from village to village to sometimes a town, not on such things as new clothing or too much food. To come under Lord Lovell’s patronage and protection had been their best stroke of luck. “Ever,” Basset had said, and he would best know, having formed the company years before Joliffe had joined.
So when Lord Lovell had made them his company of players and bade them come to Minster Lovell at Michaelmas this year of God’s grace 1434 to divert both his household and his officials come for the end-of-harvest reckoning, they had come and were just ending their week here. They were too small a company to have much choice of plays, and filling that much time with suitable ones had been difficult, but by eking it out with Rose’s tumbling and Ellis’ and Piers’ juggling and Joliffe’s skill with the lute, they thought they had done well, especially against the general gloom that had come with yet another year’s bad harvest. The summer that had started bright and fair had gone to rain and cold by St. Mary Magdalen Day, first delaying the harvest, then rotting too much of it in the fields. Last year had been lean after a bad harvest. This year, with a second bad harvest to follow the other, would be leaner. The players lived only on what other people would give for their work, and when other people had little to give, the players tended to have nothing. Lord Lovell’s patronage—and the money that went with it—had come just in time. As they had walked beside their cart toward Minster Lovell, with yet more rain pattering into the road’s mud and the hedges and ruined fields around them, Basset had said what they all knew. “We’d not have made it through another year like last.”
Now Lord Lovell wanted to see two of them, and while they all thought they had done well enough that he was pleased with them, “The last thing you ever take for certainty is anyone’s goodwill,” Basset had told Joliffe in his early days with the company. “You may have done everything you could and earned it ten times over and still not get it.” Which Joliffe was remembering as he followed Basset away from the shed they had been sharing with their cart and horse. In the servant’s wake, they crossed the manor’s outer yard, went through the cobbled gateway into the smaller inner yard and across it not to the wide way into the great hall—tall and newly built with golden Cotswold stone—but to a lesser door in the older wing of rooms directly across from the gateway. Word was that Lord Lovell would be having those rebuilt sometime soon, too.

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