The Butchers Funeral: A Medieval Murder - Plot & Excerpts
You've been in there for ages, I ain't paying you to do nothing.' Dionisia Butcher banged on the door as she stormed past. She carried a basket of meat to the preparation table, tipping out the contents besides the vegetables she had chopped earlier. Albin always seem to hide in the larder when there was work to be done and she felt like she was forever chasing him to do his job. Only last week, Dye had found him asleep in the front of the shop. She had not told her husband about it, instead preferring to deal with the issue herself. She had made use of a bucket of cold water and Albin had woken with a start. It wasn't that he was lazy, or even that he she might be uncomfortable as he was close to her age. It was simply that she was the woman of the house and as the apprentice she had to make sure he knew his place. Dye at 17, was doing well for herself. Running her own business, well her husband's business, she had an unusual amount of freedom. Despite five years of marriage, she still had no children and was actively reducing her husband's say in the matter. Her husband, Col, was not lazy. In fact she admired his ability to make money out of almost anything. He made sure there was very little waste in the butcher's shop, always finding a way to sell even the oldest meat.
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