“Sit! I remember now that she married the apothecary in the village, and you went off to sell yourself to the highest bidder who needed a sword. I was confusing her with another.” His words sounded brave enough, but his bulging eyes betrayed his terror. The green pallor of his face briefly turned into a reddish shade.
Ralf sat, but his teeth remained bared with rage.
For a long moment, the brothers stared at each other with mutual and palpable hate.
“I want my servant. Where is the man?”
“He has been sent off to the far side of the priory on an errand for me.” The crowner did not mention that it was an easy one made more pleasant with the suggestion that the man take his time sampling the famous priory ale on behalf of his master. For an older man, he had sped with alacrity to the task.
“What do you want from me? This fraternal visit is a pretense. We both know that. Get on with your purpose. The sooner done, the sooner I can be left in peace.”
Sitting back, Ralf folded his arms and began. “When you arrived at the inn the day before you came here, you were greeted by the innkeeper. Was there another man who chose to approach you? If so, describe him.”
“Anyone who said the man chose to approach me lied, but I did see the one you mean. You want a description? He was unremarkable. Of average height and appearance. Light brown hair, I think. A scruffy beard of a darker shade. Grey eyes? Light ones, certainly. No visible scars.”
“You recall him quite well despite his unexceptional appearance.”
“Even you would have, most beloved and witless brother. I saw him loitering by the inn door and didn’t like his look. While the rude innkeeper was arguing over our simple accommodation requirements, I continued to wonder if the man was lawless, assessing what might be stolen from all those who stopped by the inn. It wouldn’t have surprised me if that innkeeper allowed him to do so for a cut of whatever the man’s wicked fellows acquired down the road.”
“Do you think he was in the hire of the innkeeper?”
Odo thought for a moment. “In truth, I do not know. He did not speak to the innkeeper and waited for him to leave before he approached our party. Either he and the innkeeper were clever enough to hide their felonious alliance or there was none.”
“If not you, to whom did he first speak?”
“Abbot Mordredus.”
“What did he want?”
“I did not hear the entire conversation, but I noticed that he groveled on his knees to the abbot as he spoke. Then Mordredus summoned me and said that he had resolved the problem of pollution from whorish women. This man could be the barrier protecting our virtue.” Odo snorted and rubbed at his nose. “Mordredus is a fool, yet has always thought himself above the rest of us. I thought it quite likely he had just engaged the services of a man who would later attack us on the road.”
Ralf might hate his brother, but he knew him to be no such fool. The crowner had bought him a position in the abbey at Caldwell, but Odo had advanced to lead it on his merit alone. A curse on him, Ralf thought, but I can trust most of his observations, other than his opinions of me.
“Did he help your men wait on you at the meal?”
“I took him to the kitchen and explained both to him and the scabby wenches there what his duties were. The cook was ordered to provide for our needs first, and I took special care to make sure he knew each abbot’s preferences on portion size and a few other details, or at least those that could be met under such rough conditions.”
Ralf tried not to grin. He was surprised there was anything left of the aged ox after his brother got his supper that night.
“Our own servants first poured the ale and brought that to us while the man ladled the stew into the bowls and carved more from the roast for us. For a simple man, he learned remarkably well from my instructions. Ancell’s portion had smaller bits for easier chewing, for instance. The abbot suffers from sore gums and loose teeth.”
“So you concluded the alleged servant possessed a few wits?”
Odo coughed and began to look like he was rapidly tiring. “Or Mordredus had told him already. Or he knew more about us than he ought for other reasons.” Odo pulled his blanket up to his chin and sighed. “God endowed us with the ability to be suspicious for good reason.”
No, his brother was not easily duped, the crowner reminded himself. If the mysterious man did know more about the abbots than he should, who was the source and what was the purpose? He doubted it had anything to do with anonymous thieves living in the woods.
“Why do you think he went to Abbot Mordredus when you were the one discussing the terms of your stay with the innkeeper and appeared to be in charge of the traveling party?”
“I cannot answer that question. As I said, Mordredus lacks a few wits, but that is a fact not necessarily or quickly observable by a stranger. Perhaps he found me too intimidating.”
That was possible. Ralf had long concluded that his brother’s size alone would frighten even a sea monster.
“Yet I was troubled the next morning when Mordredus told me that the man had asked to accompany us to Norwich. Was this a sign to outlaws in the forest that we were suitable prey? Or did the man have another questionable reason to escape the inn under the cover of pious companions? He gave Mordredus no reason for his journey, or at least none that the abbot wished to tell me.”
“You said nothing about your worries to Abbot Mordredus?”
“No. Although I did not like the creature, I had no proof that he was anything except what he claimed to be. When I took him to the kitchen, I carefully mentioned we had sufficient servants. That may be why he sought permission from Mordredus, rather than me, to travel with us to Norwich. With a bit of flattery, my fellow brother in Christ would have given the Devil’s most favored imp permission to travel by our sides. He does so love the power that authority brings.”
“Did you learn the man’s name?”
“In that I was the fool. He neither gave one nor did I ask. Perhaps the Abbot of Envy knows.”
Ralf was amused by the name his brother gave Mordredus and wondered what that abbot called Odo. “Might this man have had cause to poison members of your party?”
The corners of Odo’s lips twitched upward. “That is for you to discover, Ralf. I thought he had hopes of cutting all our throats, yet he didn’t. When we escaped the forest with no harm, I assumed I had been wrong about him. Instead, I was more annoyed by the delays caused by Abbot Ilbert and his constant need to pee.”
“Do you remember when the man left your company?”
“When Ilbert began to foam at the mouth, and I insisted we ride swiftly to the hospital here. The others, including this man, went to the village and, I assume, the inn there.” He watched his brother for a moment before adding, “And if you want to know, I remained aware of him until then because I never fully trusted him.”
“You are sure he did not go back the way you had come, perhaps to the inn where you had stayed the night before?”
“I cannot swear to what he might have done after we went down the road to the priory. It would have been foolish of any man to travel after dark, so I must assume he probably went into Tyndal village with the others.” Odo exhaled with impatience. “As for everything up to the moment we parted from the other travelers, I have told you what I saw. I can assure you my report is accurate. As even you know, I have never been inclined to dreaming while awake.”
“I only asked because you might have been distracted with the illness of Abbot Ilbert.”
“Ilbert?” Odo’s laugh cracked into a painful cough. “The man was a brute. Since God is just, the man’s soul is surely being whipped with the ferocity he inflicted on many. No, other than the mercy we owe all mortals by getting him to the hospital, I was not worried if he lived or died. I also wanted to make sure we were in the priory where we would not have to listen to me
n singing ribald songs and watch whores ply their trade. I was weary of such pathetic and worldly pursuits.”
Ralf paused and studied his brother. “You never liked women?”
“They are the daughters of Eve who forced us from the Garden. If she had not sinned, we would have food in abundance and suffer no pain. Of what use is Woman? She is like a cow with flesh hanging from her chest that would never be needed without the breeding of children in beds of lust. She foully bleeds on a regular basis. She keeps men from a virtuous life with her wiles and, unless God grants her the gift of a man’s intellect, she is infernally boring and stupid. The better question, Ralf, is why so many men find them tempting.”
The crowner shook his head. There were many reasons he and Odo never got along. This was one. His wife, Gytha, was neither boring nor stupid, and they had much joy in the marriage bed. Perhaps Odo had never forgiven that cow that once kicked him as a boy and thereafter blamed all females for the sins of one bovine? He swallowed his laughter.
“Are you finished? I am exhausted.”
“One last question. Which abbot spent the night in the hayloft with a whore from the inn?”
“Didier. He is the second son and never wanted to take vows, but his father marched him to the abbey as a boy. As I heard the tale, Didier kicked and screamed the entire time and was locked away in a solitary cell until he saw reason. He has since found himself a whore and spawned many bantlings in her. On journeys, he always finds consolation.” Odo closed his eyes and faced the wall. “Please leave me, Ralf. I am weary unto death.”
Ralf realized that his brother was not complaining without reason. Odo looked terribly ill as, in fact, he was. For just an instant, he felt pity but swiftly exiled the emotion. “I shall recall your servant and send another lay brother to attend you until he arrives,” he said.
Odo did not respond.
Ralf began to walk to the door, then turned around and looked at his pale brother. “You have helped more in this problem of murder than any of the others. For that I thank you.” His tone was civil, even gentle.
Odo sighed.
With no further comment, Ralf hurried from the room. Had he looked back again, he might have seen his brother wipe a rebellious tear from his cheek.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Crowner!”
Ralf had barely shut the door to his brother’s chambers when he saw Abbot Ancell waving to him.
He winced. The crowner had had enough of men vowed to God after enduring the conversation with Odo. Despite Gytha’s influence and his friends within Tyndal Priory dulling his contempt, he still preferred straightforward thieves to men who enjoyed mortal foibles but pretended to be holier than more honest sinners. Grumbling to himself, Ralf steeled himself to face this unwelcome encounter.
“May we talk together?” The abbot gestured to the dining table in the middle of the room and, assuming the crowner would follow, walked to a bench and sat down.
Suppressing a groan, Ralf joined him.
“Sit closer,” the abbot said, gesturing to a spot nearer to him. “I wish to speak in a low voice so others do not hear.” With a significant look, he indicated the doors to the surrounding chambers of his fellow abbots.
Reluctantly, Ralf inched closer.
“You surely know by now that Abbot Gifre’s murderer is one of my fellow abbots.” Ancell leaned nearer.
The crowner nodded. For an elderly man, he thought, this one still has a bright eye and lacks that musty smell so many men of his age possess. His breath stank, but even the young suffered from rotting teeth and pustulous gums.
“Good!” Ancell put his hands together and grinned like a teacher faced with a student who has just unexpectedly answered a question properly. “Do you not think it odd that Abbot Gifre died but Abbot Odo did not?”
The crowner sat straighter with amazement. “You wish to denounce my brother?”
“I condemn no one. I wish only to pose questions for your further consideration.” He sat back and studied the king’s man sharing his bench. “I did not think you would find my suggestion of your brother amiss. There has never been great love between you, and I have heard you are an honest man.”
Swallowing a brusque retort, Ralf urged him to continue with his remarks. In the back of his mind, a tiny voice, which sounded a bit like Odo’s, whispered: How does this man know that my brother and I do not get along?
“A guilty man may injure himself to appear innocent. Have you never seen such a trick?”
The crowner confessed that he had.
“So Odo might be the guilty one. His illness does not make him innocent, and our dear Abbot of Caldwell is a most ambitious man. Or the poisoner could be Abbot Didier, who needs a higher position with more rents so he can pay for his mistress and their growing family of bastards. Despite being a wicked man, Didier is fond of his children and wants them fed and clothed, although his fidelity to their mother is questionable. I am sure you have heard that he pokes any woman whenever he can and did so with much merriment at the inn.”
“You believe ambition to rise to a bishopric led one of the abbots to murder? Isn’t that a particularly vile sin committed for an ignoble purpose?” Ralf deliberately blinked with an expression that he hoped suggested an innocence he did not possess.
“Men of God are still men, Crowner. Surely that does not surprise you. Few of us deserve the positions to which we rise. It grieves me as much as it does any other man of profound faith that virtue is not always the primary quality needed to gain honor in the Church.”
Ralf was a bit taken aback by Ancell’s frank remark but decided that the man’s observations might be more useful than he had thought. Oddly enough, he was growing fonder of this abbot whose refreshing honesty was needed after breathing the fetid duplicity that always surrounded Odo like a second cloak.
“Abbot Didier has been exposed for his lust by Abbot Mordredus in a letter he wrote to Rome. He included no proof of Didier’s transgressions but stated that such could be obtained easily. For this act, I fear for Mordredus’ life.”
“But he remains alive and others have died.”
“As I am sure you and others must suspect, Abbot Ilbert may not have suffered a natural death, nor did Abbot Tristram. Abbot Gifre was certainly murdered. If you were an ambitious man with a terrible sin you wished to hide and you wanted to eliminate rivals, might you not be tempted to kill those who could gain what you so desperately desired?”
“Yet to leave one man alive would be ill-advised. He would surely be the killer.”
“That is why I mentioned that Odo did not die but suffered nonetheless.”
“Might your life be in danger as well?”
“Although I am the least of the threats to the killer’s advancement, I may die. That is true. If the poisoner is Mordredus, Didier will die. If Didier, Mordredus will succumb to some fatal act. Either Odo is the killer or he will soon be dead.” His expression saddened. “It is also possible that the killer will let me live so I become the suspect. Wouldn’t that be clever?”
“With two of you alive, one is surely the murderer.”
“Then I return to Abbot Odo. If he has suffered so much, why suspect he would be the culprit? If I am alive and unharmed, does that not suggest I am the more likely killer? Or you might begin to fear the poisoner is not among the abbots. Maybe he has escaped, and you have failed to identify him in time.”
Ralf grew uncomfortable. Ancell had made a good point.
“Of course, I have a motive, as does each of my fellow abbots. Like all men, I have my fallibilities, and Mordredus surely mentioned them to Rome. But they are minor compared to the others.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I am an old man, Crowner, and have little left to hide. Yet my age may make me the most dangerous to the killer. A bishopric bestowed on me would not remain filled for many years but perhaps long enough that
others might rise to the attention of Rome and the chance lost again for the murderer.” He fell silent as if wanting to let that statement sink in. “That is all I have to say, but I had to offer you my questions born of sorrow in this heinous matter of untimely deaths.”
Ralf was pleased the abbot was rising from the bench. Perhaps he could finally escape this cauldron of religious ambition and escape to the arms of his beloved wife and children. “I am most grateful for your opinions, my lord. But be assured that you are safe if the killer chooses poison. Prioress Eleanor has a plan to keep your food safe from deadly contamination.”
Abbot Ancell smiled and bowed his head in a practiced display of gratitude.
Ralf was not fooled. As he watched the abbot disappear into his chamber, he suspected that Ancell did not believe, any more than any of the others, that a prioress was capable of protecting anyone.
As the crowner left the dining hall and the priory itself, he was surprised to realize that he was convinced Odo could not be a suspect. His brother was a clever manipulator, and he might eventually stuff himself so full of food that he killed himself, but he would never kill another man.
“My brother has never even liked to hunt,” Ralf muttered.
Chapter Twenty-four
Abbot Ancell retreated into his chamber for prayer and reflection, grateful he had done what he should. Now he could leave the secular world and the king’s man behind.
Although he was an old man, he suffered less than others from the troubles of decaying flesh. Of course Death might come for him soon, but he was confident the pale rider would not arrive quite yet. Had he believed otherwise, he would not have come on this journey to Norwich to meet the papal envoy and hope for a bishopric. Despite appropriate denials to the contrary, he knew that his birth, his proven administrative skills, and his virtue qualified him for one. Advancement in the Church was a holy ambition if desired by an unsullied heart, and his was as pure as any mortal’s could be.
The Proud Sinner Page 14