Brother's Blood

by C. B. Hanley

  The abbot stepped over to Edwin. ‘Is this true? Brother Octavian made an attempt on your life?’

  Edwin nodded.

  ‘And you think he is also responsible for the deaths of Brother Alexander and Brother Eugenius?’

  Edwin nodded again.

  The abbot looked down at the still-unconscious monk with an expression of anguish. ‘Very well. But he still needs to go to the infirmary.’ He looked around at the various options available, at the monks and lay brothers of varying degrees of age and fitness who now filled the room. ‘Brother Guy. Please take Brother Octavian to the infirmary and place him in a bed away from other brethren. Stand by him and, if he wakes, do not let him leave or even rise from the bed. You may take another brother with you to help carry him.’

  Brother Guy bowed low, then bent down and easily scooped up the librarian in his burly arms. With another respectful inclination of the head towards the abbot he left the room.

  ‘Or not, if you don’t need any help,’ the abbot murmured under his breath. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he said to Edwin and Martin, before moving to consult with the infirmarer. Edwin remained silent as he watched. Benedict was now on his feet and was being supported by another brother who was instructed to accompany him back to the infirmary.

  ‘And Brother Richard?’ the abbot was asking, which confirmed to Edwin the man’s identity. The stricken monk was also starting to come round, and as his eye fell on Edwin he pointed and tried to sit up.

  ‘He has not helped himself, Father, but I think he has not hindered his recovery too seriously.’ Brother Durand surveyed the room. ‘I have no idea how he got here, Father, or what his intention was, but with your permission I would prefer to get him back into bed before any further inquiries are made.’

  The abbot nodded. ‘Yes, do so. Should we fashion a stretcher?’

  ‘I’ll carry him, if you like.’ Martin stepped forward.

  Brother Durand initially looked as though he would snap at the offer, but he stopped himself after a warning glance from the prior. ‘Thank you. That would be most welcome. But please – carefully.’

  Martin settled Brother Richard in his arms and nodded at the infirmarer. ‘Lead the way.’

  The prior now shooed any remaining stragglers out of the room, and Edwin was left alone with the abbot.

  Abbot Reginald looked about ten years older than he had when Edwin had first met him. He rubbed a hand across his face and moved to half-sit on the edge of the table. ‘And so.’

  Edwin looked after the departing party. ‘I believe I now have everything straight, my lord, but as there is no longer any danger to anyone, might I take just a little more time? I can explain everything, but I need to talk to Brother Richard first.’

  ‘Brother Richard? What does he have to do with all this?’

  ‘More than you might think, my lord. So may I?’

  ‘You may. Please come and see me in my parlour when you have finished. I shall go there now to await you and to pray.’ He hesitated. ‘Incidentally, why are you holding one of our wool ledgers?’

  Edwin had almost forgotten he was still carrying the book. His arms were stiff as he held it out. ‘Please take this with you, my lord. Keep it shut for now, but when you get back to your parlour, open it and look inside. And when I get back I will tell you everything, I promise.’ He turned towards the door, leaving the abbot gazing in puzzlement at the perfectly ordinary-looking volume in his hands.

  By the time Edwin reached the infirmary all the men had been settled. A bed had been moved right into one corner of the room, away from the others: this contained Brother Octavian, now beginning to come round. He had the makings of a huge bruise on his jaw. Brother Guy stood in silence, unmoving, his arms folded, watching him. Edwin remembered the noise of his fist striking flesh and bone and had no doubt that Brother Octavian wouldn’t be able to escape.

  Benedict was sitting up in another bed, with the ancient novicemaster next to him holding a bowl of broth and a spoon. He nodded to Edwin as he passed.

  The screen was still in place at the far end of the infirmary. Martin was standing next to it and he made room for Edwin so they could both see round. Brother Richard was in bed but sitting, supported by pillows, and he looked a little more alive. Prior Henry and Brother Durand were praying by his bedside; as Edwin watched they crossed themselves and Brother Durand gestured that Edwin could speak with the sick man.

  Propped in his sitting position, Brother Richard was still pale, his face drawn with pain, but the terrible swelling was now gone and he was able to raise his hand and even offer a tired smile of greeting.

  Edwin saw that there was a stool by the side of the bed. ‘May I sit and speak with you?’

  Brother Richard gestured his permission.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you when you need to rest, but it would be very helpful if I could ask you a few questions. I’ll try not to tire you out, and as far as I can I’ll make them questions you can answer with a yes or a no.’

  Brother Richard nodded his head, moving it as little as possible.

  ‘You travelled with Brother Alexander, didn’t you? When you were both younger?’

  A nod.

  ‘To start with you went to Paris, but after that you travelled south, to the lands of the Moors?’

  Nod.

  ‘Where you studied with masters? You, Brother Alexander and another man called Daniel of Morley.’

  Nod.

  ‘The prior was confused when he mentioned the name to me. It wasn’t the writings of Daniel which had a great influence on Brother Alexander – it was the man himself.’

  A slight shrug. Edwin got back to his point.

  ‘And then you all came back, what, twenty, twenty-five years ago? And you all became monks.’

  This time Brother Richard shook his head.

  Edwin was confused. ‘You didn’t all come back? Or you didn’t all become monks?’ He realised what he was doing. ‘Oh, sorry, that’s not very helpful, is it. You all travelled back to England together?’

  Nod.

  ‘And you all joined religious orders?’

  Brother Richard put up his hand to stop Edwin. He opened his mouth and shut it a couple of times, as if unfamiliar with the feeling. He cleared his throat, tentatively. Then he managed a few words, his voice rusty and the words unformed. ‘Daniel – Aug-us-tin-i-an. Me – here. Alex-ander went to teach. At the school at St Al-bans. Took the cowl later – came here.’

  This time it was Edwin’s turn to nod. ‘And he came here because of you, didn’t he? That’s why he travelled across more than half of the kingdom to join the Order here, rather than taking orders at a monastery nearer to where he lived?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because he was your brother, wasn’t he? I mean, not just your brother in the Order, but your actual brother, your blood brother.’

  Brother Richard’s eyes filled with tears and for a moment he couldn’t speak, then he forced some words out. ‘Yes. We went … ever-y-where toge-ther when we were younger.’ Pause. ‘Then he tra-velled and I missed him, so when he went a-gain I … went too.’ He put his hand up to his jaw, the effort of so much speaking obviously paining him.

  Edwin looked on in sympathy. ‘I am sorry, Brother – sorry for your loss and also sorry that I’m hurting you. Just one more thing, please?’

  Brother Richard nodded, wiping away a dribble from his mouth with his sleeve.

  ‘When you came back, Brother Alexander had a book with him, didn’t he? A very precious book that he treasured.’

  Brother Richard took a deep breath and made a huge effort to speak as clearly as he could. ‘I told him that would be trou-ble. It was a Bible – ill-um-in-a-ted – a Chri-stian book, and he said it should-n’t be in hea-then hands, how-ever good their masters were.’ He sat back on his pillows, exhausted.

  ‘So he stole it?’

  A shake of the head.

  ‘He bought it?’

  Nod.

 
‘How?’ Edwin realised he wouldn’t get any more words so he held up his hand. ‘No, wait. I will work it out. Before he travelled he had sold his lands and goods?’ There was no shake of the head. ‘So he had money, gold, the gold which was meant to keep you both while you were away and then set you up when you got back?’ Still no disagreement. ‘And he used every last penny to buy the book.’

  Brother Richard nodded, but Edwin was talking to himself now. ‘Which is why he took a job when he got back and why you joined the Order. And it is also why he would not part with it even when he took the cowl, even when he was supposed to give up all his worldly possessions. And someone knew, and someone didn’t like him breaking the Rule. And that person killed him.’

  He looked at the man in the bed, but Brother Richard’s eyes were closed; he had dozed off from the effort of trying to communicate. Edwin asked the Lord to guard him, and then stood. As he rounded the screen he exchanged a glance with Brother Durand and Prior Henry, who had been standing there the whole time to act as witnesses.

  Edwin stood in the abbot’s parlour, in exactly the same spot he had occupied on the day he arrived. The abbot sat in his chair, the manuscript of wonders spread open on the table before him. How Edwin wished he could take it away and look at it in solitude for the rest of his life. But that way madness would lie.

  He stumbled over his words at first, too tired and unwilling to speak, but he gained fluency as he went along and eventually communicated to the abbot Brother Alexander’s travels, his bringing back of the book, his reasons for joining Roche rather than another abbey, and his relationship with Brother Richard.

  The abbot shook his head. ‘I never noticed. Of course, two men in middle age may well bear a slight resemblance without being related, but I never considered that they might be brothers. And they never spoke of it.’

  ‘Not all brothers are as close as Brothers Godfrey and Waldef, my lord.’ As with Helias and Sir Philip, thought Edwin.

  He continued. ‘And so, once I had worked out that the “treasure” was a book, that naturally threw suspicion on Brother Octavian. But how could anyone know how much he coveted it – that he would be willing to kill for it?’

  The abbot sighed as he looked down at the manuscript. ‘It is beautiful, yes, and it contains the word of God, but how could anyone …? Evidently I do not know some of the brethren as well as I should. If I had been a better father to them all, this might not have happened.’ He shook his head sadly.

  The prior, who had been standing silently in the corner all the while, interjected. ‘May I speak, Father?’ The abbot gestured his permission, still lost in his own thoughts.

  Prior Henry turned to Edwin. ‘If, as you say, Brother Octavian did kill Brother Alexander – and everything does seem to point that way – what possible reason could he have for doing away with poor Brother Eugenius?’

  Now it was Edwin’s turn to sigh, weighed down as he was by guilt. ‘I think that he just said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Brother Octavian was no doubt scared that someone might find out what he’d done. By that stage he’d hidden the book – and where better to conceal it than among other volumes? Perhaps he meant at some point to bring it into the abbey library, but someone would notice it and ask where it came from, surely? And he’d have to share it. So he put it where nobody would think to look, and where he could access it in secret whenever he could.’

  The prior was shaking his head. ‘But I still don’t see what this has to do with Brother Eugenius.’

  ‘He probably mentioned wool ledgers in front of Brother Octavian. He was upset at what had happened at the lay brothers’ grange, and he must have said something about confessing at Chapter. Brother Octavian, already in a heightened state, would have been terrified in case he was going to be unmasked. So after the service this morning he either found Brother Eugenius alone in the dormitory or lured him there, and stabbed him.’

  ‘Cold-bloodedly?’ The abbot managed to sound both disbelieving and horrified.

  ‘Yes. For it is a sad fact that once a man has killed, he is more likely to kill again.’

  The abbot and the prior looked at each other. ‘I have heard this,’ admitted the prior.

  ‘But what actual proof do we have?’ The abbot pointed to the book. ‘This, yes, but does it show that Brother Octavian committed murder? What you say sounds very plausible but I would not like to condemn one of the brethren unless we are sure.’

  ‘I thought you would say that, my lord, which is why I wanted to find Brother Octavian and the book together before I said anything. Although that ended up leading to the death of Brother Eugenius, an innocent.’

  ‘An innocent, as you say. Requiescat in pace.’ They all crossed themselves.

  ‘But if …’ He tailed off.

  ‘What is it?’ The abbot had caught the tone of Edwin’s voice.

  Edwin swallowed. ‘You’re not going to like this, my lord.’

  ‘Not going to like what?’

  ‘From what I have gathered so far, I think Brother Octavian may have thought that in some way he was justified in killing Brother Alexander. But even he will harbour doubts in his soul about Brother Eugenius. Could we … might you give your permission for Brother Eugenius’s body to be brought to Chapter tomorrow morning when Brother Octavian comes before it? I think that might sting him into a confession.’

  The abbot closed his eyes. ‘What you suggest is … distasteful.’ He opened them again and looked directly at Edwin. ‘But do you truly believe that this will bring an end to all this? Everything? We can be sure that the killer is found and we can return to our normal lives?’

  Edwin squared his shoulders. ‘Yes, my lord.’ He hoped desperately that he was right.

  ‘Then so be it.’

  The abbot looked down at Brother Octavian, prostrate on the floor. ‘You will endure your earthly punishment regardless of whether you tell us or not. But for the sake of your immortal soul, your peace with Almighty God, you must make a full and frank confession.’

  Brother Octavian sobbed on to the flagstones. Edwin watched as the tears made darker patches on the floor as they dripped from his face.

  The abbot was relentless. ‘Speak.’

  The shivering monk mumbled something which Edwin didn’t catch.

  The abbot looked at the prior and nodded. ‘You may raise yourself to your knees while you confess.’

  Brother Octavian pushed himself up into a kneeling position. He looked around at his audience, his face streaked with tears, and then lowered his head again before beginning his tale.

  ‘Brother Alexander was a learned man, a travelled man. I enjoyed speaking with him about our books and about others he had read while he was abroad. One day he told me of the most exquisite treasure he had ever seen – a holy Bible illuminated on every page with gold and coloured illustrations. He said that the mere sight of it made him want to drop to his knees and praise God for the beauty of His creation. He told me that while he was in the southern Moorish kingdoms he would spend hours every day studying it. I asked him to tell me of it again and again, until I felt that I knew it almost as well as he.’

  He took in a great shuddering breath and looked directly at the abbot. ‘And then, Father Abbot, one day he told me something he said he had never told anyone. When he returned from his travels, he had brought the Bible with him.’

  Edwin heard an intake of breath from the silent monks around him.

  ‘I asked him why he had not given it to the abbey, Father, for surely such a treasure should be shared, should be available for all to study? Such a book should be kept in safety in the library here, and I would have guarded it with my life. And when Brother Alexander took the cowl he swore to forsake his earthly goods. But he would not answer me, would not show me the book.’ His voice rose into a howl of anguish. ‘He would not tell me where he had hidden it! Such a treasure almost within reach, one of the wonders of the world, and I could not see it for myself!’

  He stopped
as another huge sob overtook him, and buried his face in his hands. Edwin looked around the silent room at the tension on the face of the brothers. Some of them were leaning forward, others gripping their robes in clenched fists.

  Brother Octavian managed to slow his breathing and choke out his next words. ‘I took to following him, Father. I knew he would not be able to hide the book anywhere without wanting to go and see it, so I followed him. And when I saw him disappear into the side of the cliff I knew that had to be it. By the time he came out it was too late to go in – someone would have missed me if I had not come to vespers – so I resolved to steal out in the night. Once compline had finished and the brethren were asleep I slipped away out of the abbey. I had no problem getting past Brother Thurstan, and I left the small gate unbarred. It took me a long while to find my way there in the moonlight and even longer to find the cave, but at last I was there.’

  Edwin knew how this was going to end, but he found himself on the edge of his seat along with everyone else.

  ‘And there it was.’

  All the monks gasped, as one.

  ‘I could not see it properly as it was dark, but I knew what it was. I took it out of the box and bag which held it, as I thought it would be easier that way: anyone who saw me carrying a bag would no doubt ask me what I was doing, but who would think to question me holding a book? I brought it back to the abbey. I was going to put it in the library, but that would not do. So I hid it: I went to the lay brothers’ parlour, removed the pages from one of the wool ledgers, put the manuscript inside, and threw the ledger pages into the beck.’

  There was a shocked silence in the room. What struck Edwin most was that Brother Octavian seemed to be feeling no guilt; such tears as he had shed were for himself.

  The abbot looked down on him with no pity. ‘Continue, Brother Octavian. You have told us a tale but you have not yet confessed your greatest sin.’

  Brother Octavian spread his arms wide. ‘The rest is simple, Father. Brother Alexander would soon find that his book was gone, and he would know who had taken it. He had to be silenced. So while the brethren were at lectio divina I took one of the knives from the scriptorium and stabbed him with it.’