Shadow in the Dark

by Antony Barone Kolenc

  Had he just experienced a strange dream, or had that been a message from God? He’d thought the parchment had been his first clue, but then he’d decided it meant nothing.

  Perhaps he’d been wrong about that.

  20

  Greed

  Monday morning brought a return to the boys’ traditions: morning prayer, breakfast, and the assignment of chores. Brother Oscar gave Xan several jobs to complete, ending with the task of piling stacks of firewood behind the dormitory.

  Before starting his first chore, Xan rushed to the infirmary, where Father Paul was still recovering. Following that revelation in his dream last night, it was all he could do to keep from running off into the chill darkness to retrieve the parchment.

  Brother Andrew had said the Lord could work through dreams. Maybe the dream had been an answer to Xan’s prayer. Perhaps Death was simply the servant of God, after all.

  He entered the infirmary, where the old priest was snoring away despite the daylight. No one else was around. The ripped parchment lay on the desk, where Brother Lucius had left it.

  Xan scooped it up and put it into the leather pouch on his waist. He’d be sure to bring it back later, after showing it to Lucy and Brother Andrew. Maybe he shouldn’t have discarded it as a clue so quickly before. It still might have a part to play in solving this mystery.

  He returned to the dorm and spent the morning on chores, avoiding contact with Joshua, John, and any of the other boys. Then he stacked the firewood into several piles and—before Brother Oscar could assign him another task—hurried down the trail to see Lucy.

  Sister Regina was walking around the convent when he arrived, coming from the garden.

  “What brings you here this afternoon?” she said, pushing a stray hair back under her habit.

  “I was wondering if I could speak with Lucy. She’s been helping me solve this mystery, and I wanted to show her a clue.”

  The nun gave a quizzical look, then peered into the afternoon sky as if to guess the time. “I believe Lucy is still praying in our little chapel after the midday meal,” she said.

  “Still praying?”

  The nun laughed, but not in a mocking way. “Aye. ’Tis not a crime, you know. Lucy spends more time in the chapel than most of the girls, and—”

  Just then, Maud exited the main door of the convent, followed by Lucy, whose face lit up as soon as she saw him. “You must have got back late from Chadwick last night.”

  He nodded. “Aye, and—”

  “Brother Leo’s in jail!” Maud interrupted, scrunching her dark eyebrows together.

  “I know,” Xan said. That news had traveled fast.

  He quickly told them what had happened in Chadwick and how he’d dreamed about Father Paul’s parchment. He pulled it from his pouch and handed it to Lucy.

  “I’d given up on it as a clue, but now I’m starting to wonder if I missed something.”

  Lucy turned the parchment over and back again, feeling the seal and putting it close to her face. “Did you figure out what these numbers are here?”

  “What numbers?” He took the parchment back. Several tiny faded symbols were inscribed directly above the edge of the seal. He’d seen them before but hadn’t recognized them as numbers.

  “May I see?” asked Sister Regina.

  He handed it to the nun, and she made a pleasant “hmm” sound. “’Tis a date. That is common on official documents to place the date next to the seal. Very common.”

  Except Brother Andrew had not yet taught Xan about reading dates on official documents. It suddenly seemed that being lettered was absolutely necessary for solving mysteries.

  “How odd,” the nun said. “This parchment is dated less than a fortnight ago.”

  “Less than two weeks?” he said. He’d been at the abbey for more than a fortnight now.

  If the document were that recent, then it was created after his parents had died. And if that were true, then Rummy could not possibly have stolen it from the manor house at Hardonbury.

  He repeated his thoughts aloud for everyone to hear.

  “Then it really is a clue,” Lucy said. “Where did that bandit get it?”

  Several other innocent theories still existed for that, including the possibility that Rummy had stolen it from a traveler who had done recent business at Chadwick Manor.

  “But what if that bandit had got this document from Chadwick itself?” Xan said. “What if someone there gave it to him?”

  Lucy’s face turned a shade paler, making her hair seem blacker than usual. “Then Lord Godfrey could be involved in all this evil. ’Tis his personal seal on the document.”

  “Maybe that’s why Brother Leo was meeting with him,” Xan said. “Maybe that’s why he attacked the abbot.” If true, then that grumpy old monk was a greater villain than he’d thought.

  “A conspiracy,” Sister Regina suggested. “We must tell the prior immediately.”

  They hastened to the abbey complex just in time to find the monks exiting the church after nones. The monks lumbered from the arched doorway as though the energy of life had been sapped from their hearts. They must still have been in shock from the events of the past week.

  The prior and Brother Andrew were standing within the narthex of the church, near the entrance to the building. They were talking in whispers with serious tones.

  “What are you all doing here together?” the prior asked, seeing the group arrive.

  “Another clue,” Sister Regina said. “You would do well to listen to all this boy has to say.”

  Xan recounted the entire chain of events, including the date on the parchment.

  The prior showed great interest. “Let me see the document.” Xan handed it to the prior, who examined it and then passed it on to Brother Andrew.

  “Indeed, this is Godfrey’s wax seal, and ’tis dated just one day ere the attack on our abbey,” Brother Andrew said. “By Adam, if Lord Godfrey has been involved in this evil this entire time—even conspiring with those godless bandits—that would explain much.”

  True. A conspiracy between Lord Godfrey and the bandits would explain the attacks on Hardonbury, the abbey, and Penwood Manor. It could solve the mystery of Xan’s parents’ deaths and even explain why the bandits had spared the fields of Hardonbury when they’d burned the rest. And if Godfrey were running low on his finances, new manors would help with that problem too.

  What if that document Rummy held was a contract promising gold coins if the bandits made those attacks? Hadn’t one of the bandits mentioned a reward? A reward from whom? Lord Godfrey!

  Another memory flashed in Xan’s mind. He was six years old, and Mother and Father were working in the fields. A neighbor (what was his name—Hubert?) came to him with a fresh apple, red and juicy. He’d pointed to a nearby tree, where the wind had blown the man’s hat right off the top of his head and into the branches.

  “Climb up that tree, boy, and fetch me cap,” Hubert had said, “and I’ll reward you with this here apple.” Then Hubert had boosted him into the tree, and he’d inched to the edge of a branch to rescue the man’s hat. The reward of the apple had been well worth the scratches from the bark.

  Apples motivated little boys. Gold coins could motivate bandits. But what could possibly motivate Brother Leo to betray the abbot and his abbey?

  “Do you think Lord Godfrey conspired with Brother Leo too?” Xan asked.

  The prior hesitated. “Perhaps. That at least would explain Leo’s actions beyond the mere fear of bandits. Godfrey might have offered him a handsome reward to ensure Penwood was transferred to his control. As manager of Penwood, Leo would be the perfect person to corrupt.”

  “Aye. Greed has corrupted too many monks through the years,” Brother Andrew said.

  Lucy looked perplexed. “Even if Lord Godfrey were to give riches to Brother Leo, where would he ever spend them? He can’t use his treasure at the abbey. Where would he go?”

  The prior spoke harshly. “To Lincoln; to
York; to London. There are many places a wicked brother could flee, shedding his robe and embracing the pleasures of the secular world.”

  Brother Andrew rubbed at his brown eye sadly. “It seems then that this nobleman may use his wealth to control both holy and evil men.”

  “But why would someone be so bad?” Maud asked.

  “’Tis like Brother Andrew told me,” Xan said. “Powerful men are never satisfied. They always want more.” But others, like his parents, were the ones who paid the price for that greed.

  As they spoke, that same rage Xan had felt before rose within him again. “That greedy Lord Godfrey. My parents and so many others died so he could get that manor. If anyone deserves to be hung to death, ’tis him.” He clenched his fists.

  Brother Andrew put an arm around his shoulder. “Easy, my son. Justice will come in its own time. For now, these are but theories, though they are strong ones. What say you, Prior?”

  Father Clement picked lint from his robe where it bumped out from his belly. “I say that I wish we had known all these things sooner. Lord Godfrey’s messenger arrived this afternoon inviting us to meet with the sheriff tomorrow. Indeed, Godfrey himself will attend the meeting.”

  How had Sire Roger planned the meeting so quickly? He must have done it all yesterday.

  Brother Andrew folded his hands. “I had not yet heard that unfortunate news, Father.”

  “Wait,” Xan said. “If we’re right about all this, it seems like a terrible idea to go to Chadwick and speak with the sheriff. Isn’t he Lord Godfrey’s cousin?”

  “That he is,” Brother Andrew said.

  “Cousin or not,” the prior said, “the sheriff is the King’s man. He is the only one in the shire with the power to confront Lord Godfrey.”

  “But will he do it?” Sister Regina said. “Will he arrest his own cousin if it comes to it?”

  Brother Andrew grasped the rope tied around his habit and started to fray one of the ends. “By Peter’s staff, this will prove to be a dangerous business.”

  “And that is not the worst of it,” the prior said. “The messenger told us that Lord Godfrey insisted on one detail: that we bring forth our evidence before the sheriff at the meeting.”

  “Bring the evidence?” Lucy said. “That sounds risky, doesn’t it?”

  “The girl is right, Prior,” said Brother Andrew. “Bringing the evidence means bringing the parchment and Brother Lucius and even the boy. We are putting them all in danger.”

  The prior nodded. “’Tis a leap of faith, indeed. But we must lay our fears before the throne of God and trust our Lord to protect us, as the abbot has taught.”

  Too bad the abbot had made that statement just days before being brutally attacked.

  Sister Regina looked to the sky again. “Lucy, ’tis getting late in the day, and your weaving awaits you back at the convent. We must go now.”

  “Goodbye, Xan,” Lucy said, with Maud waving at her side. “Be careful tomorrow!”

  “Aye, please do,” Sister Regina added. “But do not worry. As Saint Paul tells us, ‘God works all things for the good of those who love Him.’”

  That was a comforting thought. Except how much good had been “worked” for his parents? They’d given their lives just so Lord Godfrey could get more riches. And even a monk had become corrupted as part of that evil scheme. So where was the good?

  “’Tis settled, then,” said the prior. “We will depart in the morning promptly after prime.”

  Brother Andrew smirked. “Aye, and we will be like Daniel walking into the den of lions.”

  21

  Confrontation

  The next morning—even as the abbot remained unconscious in bed—Xan and the three monks journeyed to Godfrey’s manor. Along the way, the prior reviewed the evidence with them in detail.

  “I must speak clearly on this matter,” the priest said. “There is no room for error.”

  As they traveled, neither the freshness of the brisk air nor the blueness of the sky could clear away the heaviness on their hearts. Indeed, any sorrow for Brother Leo that had been in Xan’s heart yesterday had turned more and more to anger as he’d fully considered the monk’s treachery.

  “I spoke with Brother Leo last night,” Brother Andrew said. “He still will not discuss the matter or even provide a reason why he was walking the abbey grounds that night. Neither does he admit wrongdoing, though. He told me that I was playing the role of Judas.”

  The more they spoke about Brother Leo and Lord Godfrey, the angrier Xan got. The memories of Mother and Father had grown stronger this past week. He could almost feel the love that he must have felt for them back in Hardonbury. But Lord Godfrey had taken all that away from him just so he might add a few more manors to his collection. And Brother Leo had helped.

  “Still, I pity the man,” Brother Lucius said. “He rots in jail while we walk in the sun.”

  “I don’t feel bad for him anymore,” Xan said without thinking. “He must have known what Lord Godfrey did to my parents, but he still conspired with him. Maybe he does deserve to hang.”

  The prior turned to him sternly. “And who are you to pass judgments of life and death, child? If you cannot create life, why should you be so eager to destroy it?”

  The priest had never reprimanded him before. Still, wasn’t Xan right about the monk? “But, Prior, he’s wicked and grumpy and vile!” Xan said, his anger still rising.

  “Nay,” the prior said. “You owe that monk more than you know. You owe him your life.”

  Xan turned to Brother Andrew, whose eyes gave no support. “What does the prior mean?”

  Brother Andrew sighed. “’Twas Brother Leo that saved you in the forest that morning, my son. He heard your cries, found your body, carried you to the infirmary. That long walk was difficult for him. When he arrived, his robe was torn and his knees bloodied from all his falls.”

  Xan stopped, astonished. “Why didn’t anyone tell me this ere now?”

  “We could not,” the prior said. “Leo forbade us from speaking a word about it. He never desires credit for his good deeds. He cared for you those days as though you were his own boy.”

  “But . . .” Xan’s voice trailed off. “But he’s always so mean and cross with me.”

  “That is his way with everyone,” the prior said, more gently this time. “I understand your anger, child, but you deserve to know the truth ere you pass judgment upon such a man.”

  While the group trudged along the trail, Xan walked in silence. How could a man like Brother Leo do so much evil and yet have also done so much good? Perhaps he should be pitied rather than hated. It all might be a matter of a person’s attitude.

  For instance, Sister Regina had said God works all things for good. Was there good to be seen in all that had happened? Brother Andrew might say that Xan’s parents lived in God’s glory now. And perhaps God had also brought good from their deaths by sending Xan to Harwood Abbey. Had he not been at the abbey, would any of these clues have been discovered?

  Eventually they arrived at the gates of Lord Godfrey’s manor house.

  As before, the lord received the delegation with grace and charm. After the customary inquiries, he and Sire Roger escorted his guests into a large, comfortable sitting room. Taller than anyone in the gathering by at least a hand’s length, Lord Godfrey sat behind a great oak desk in a vest of red, gold, and blue, similar to the one he’d worn last time. On his right sat Sire Roger.

  Sitting to the lord’s left was his cousin, Walter of Elton, the sheriff. Though he might have worldly authority, Walter did not appear to be the stronger of the two cousins. His long, thin mustache seemed frozen in ice; yet, his eyes flitted from one person to the next, as though he couldn’t make up his mind as to which person they should finally rest upon. That didn’t bode well for the hope that the sheriff could take on Lord Godfrey, should the evidence warrant an arrest.

  After they all had introduced themselves and taken their seats, Lord Godfrey spoke a
gain.

  “Good prior, I humbly offer you the services of my manor to handle this very sensitive issue. As you requested, I have invited my coz, the sheriff, to consider whether charges should be brought against your sad monk.”

  “Thank you, lord. I am glad the sheriff can be here today as the king’s representative.” The prior paused and took a deep breath. “You speak truly about the charges against our monk, Leo. But, my lord, I am afraid to say that we come with even greater woe: evidence against you.”

  “Against me?” Godfrey asked, grace slipping from his voice. His eyes searched from person to person, as if looking for some hint of humor. Sire Roger looked equally confused.

  “Aye, my lord,” the priest said. “This is no child’s prank. We suspect a dreadful conspiracy ’twixt yourself and our fallen monk.”

  This was the moment it could all come apart. The prior had been brave in confronting the lord, but if this were a lion’s den, then Godfrey was about to set the fierce animals to their meal.

  Lord Godfrey rose in anger. “How dare you make such a charge! I am mortally offended!”

  Xan’s heart pounded. Surely he would have them all killed now, or perhaps throw them into Chadwick’s dungeon forever.

  The prior didn’t back down. “Let the evidence speak for itself, lord.”

  Godfrey—apparently uncertain about how to proceed—turned to the sheriff, who gestured for him to sit. “Please, Coz, let the monk bring his evidence. These are just words.”

  The lord wiped sweat from his vast brow and took his seat again, but only with reluctance.

  The prior cleared his throat. “’Tis with great pain that we make these charges, lord. We love Leo, though he has never been a man of delicate speech. And while he can be cantankerous and difficult, we now believe he acted against our abbot only due to a conspiracy with this manor.”

  Xan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The prior’s words had triggered the memory of another conversation. Sire Roger had talked about Brother Leo’s speech, too. Except he’d called Brother Leo a “peaceable man of polite speech.” What an odd way to describe the monk.