What? Why oh no? asks Arcus. I’ve seen that man two times in the last 12 hours. People are going to start thinking bad stuff if they see me again here, I have to go, I try to explain to the two. See? Told you this wizard is bad news, Arcus tells Stephen as he tugs on his shirt. What happened? asks Stephen. As I explain to them the events of the previous night they look at me in shock. You are not going anywhere until the Sheriff arrives. Told you, Stephen. This man is the personification of bad luck and death. I smelled it on you, says Arcus. Is it your first time here in London? asks Stephen. Yes. So please understand, I do not want anymore trouble. I do not wish to see the Sheriff or Gravesend, for that matter, I try to explain to the two. Why would you want any trouble? If you did nothing wrong, why would you fear the Sheriff? You must feel guilty. I did not think devilish creatures like you could feel guilt, says Arcus. He is right. If you run now. They’ll come for you. If you hide now, they’ll see you as they want. A guilty, devilish, killing little monster that ran away. Is that what you want to be seen as? asks Stephen. No, but nor do I want to be stuck with the belief that where I walk, I bring death and bad luck. You must know best how that feels, I tell Stephen as the Sheriff enters the door.

Good day, sir, says the Sheriff before looking up as he opens the door. Good day, replies Stephen. I am… Oh, wizard. Found you where I sent you, says the Sheriff. Wait, you sent him here? asks Stephen. Indeed. But that’s not why I am here today. But, I suppose you heard the rumors already. We’re here because Tomas de Rede was killed with a knife. He was a servant of Richard de Tonge, a clerk of St. Martin’s Le Grand church. From what the jury had found and from what John de Braye had told us, there was a quarrel outside his house last night. Though John had not seen anyone but the victim, thus we are looking for someone that might have taken shelter here last night, says the Sheriff. Weren’t you saying that he was found dead in his room? Stephen asks Arcus. It’s what I heard from someone who said they were friends with a juror, explains Arcus. From what I understand, Richard de Tonge used to come here quite often before you got you ill famed name. So I am here to ask on behalf of the jury if you know anything. And who besides the wizard took shelter here last night? asks the Sheriff. I haven’t seen him since then. He even avoids looking at me when I pass him down the street. But by now, I got used to it. Why I ask Arcus to help me with stuff when it comes to errands, explains Stephen before being interrupted. It was just him, the wizard. It was probably he who killed the poor fella and then came running here after he was found innocent, Arcus accuses me.

Is that so? asks the Sheriff. No. There was one other. A priest. Well, he looked a bit more like a monk. He held his head down. His hands weren’t showing. He paid, slept and early morning left, said Stephen. Do you know where he went? asks the Sheriff. I can’t help you with that, says Stephen. So we are looking again at you, says the Sheriff as he turns his gaze towards me. This is the worst day of my life, so far, I sigh. You’re right to say so far, says Arcus. So what do you want to do now? asks Stephen. What can I even do? I went from the court, to here. I seen no one. I heard nothing. No one saw me until I entered this place, I explain. Well, unless you can find us that priest they’ve been talking about. You are sure to be coming with me to the court house once more, says the Sheriff. What? Do not let him leave this place! in an outrage says Arcus. Do not worry. The only place he will be leaving is with me, says the Sheriff. The door to the inn flings open. See? Told you that the wizard was at fault! Exclaims Richard the Watchman. The Bald man behind him starts laughing. Why is this happening? I ask myself. Wizard, you are coming with me. You are to be confined in prison until the trial, later today, says the Sheriff. A crowd has gathered outside the Inn. Burn him! Burn him! Burn him! the crowd chants with Richard and the Bald man in charge. I start to think that master was wrong. There’s not much to learn from here, I tell myself as I go to jail innocent.

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