Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery

Home > Other > Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery > Page 32
Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Page 32

by Newman, Sharan


  “Are you sure?” Margaret answered. “It didn’t sound settled to me. I thought my grandfather would say the charges were nonsense and tell everyone to go home.”

  Catherine had actually been hoping much the same.

  “I suppose he couldn’t,” she said. “He can’t appear to be inequitable before the other lords and the archbishops.”

  “That wouldn’t have bothered me,” Margaret said firmly.

  Compline was long past and the street was deserted. Outside the gate they saw one forlorn soldier keeping watch. As they came out, he ran toward them.

  “Godfrey!” Catherine said. “We have another chance. They’re letting him go, for now.”

  “For now?”

  “We have more time, at least, to find the real murderer,” she said. “That’s something.”

  A moment later John came out. Astrolabe was with him.

  “Are you all right?” Margaret asked him. “Oh, dear, that was a stupid question, wasn’t it? I can see you aren’t.”

  Astrolabe gave her a smile and a hug.

  “I can tell you, I’m much better than I was a few moments ago,” he said. “Chains!” He shuddered.

  “Many noblemen, kings, even apostles have been unjustly fettered,” Catherine told him. “We even have a feast for Saint Peter in chains, right?”

  Astrolabe looked at her a moment and then burst out laughing. The sound echoed down the dark street. He laughed so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath, and John had to pound his back.

  “Hysterical,” he told the others. “After a day like this, I don’t blame him.”

  “No,” Astrolabe was still chuckling. “It was just so idiotic, the image of me as Saint Peter. Catherine, do you see the whole world as an analogy?”

  “I was only trying…” Catherine began.

  “Never mind,” Astrolabe said. “I understand. Thank you. Thank you all for offering to stand for me. I don’t think I had truly understood how damaging the facts were. If you hadn’t been there, I might have been convicted tonight.”

  “Instead, you’ll have to endure my snoring again,” John said.

  “That would be music,” Astrolabe said. “But I can’t take your hospitality. Countess Sybil spoke to me before she left. I’m to stay in the guardhouse by the convent. I believe this time I’m the one to be guarded. She’s pledged me to appear in two days. She can’t take the chance that I’ll run off.”

  “Ah, then I’ll have to listen to you snore,” Godfrey said happily. “Have you ever thought about the noise a nose like yours can make?”

  They all started at the sound of a shutter being thrown open.

  “You down there!” a man shouted. “Take it somewhere else! I’m trying to sleep!”

  “A good idea,” John whispered. “I’ll be at the convent at first light tomorrow. I know we can solve this. I wouldn’t be surprised if that Arnulf wasn’t the one who killed Rolland. He’s the sort who would plan how to cover up a crime before he committed it.”

  “If only we could find a motive,” Catherine sighed. “I’d cheerfully see him taken to the gallows. Or sent on a long and dangerous pilgrimage,” she added hastily.

  They set off for Saint-Pierre, parting from John at the corner.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Godfrey asked him. “There’s no one out at this hour but cutthroats and drunks.”

  “I’ll run,” John said. “I’ve had years of practice racing the cutpurses home from the tavern. Don’t worry. It’s not far.”

  By the time they got back to the convent all was dark except for one small oil lamp left to guide their way up the stairs. Godfrey and Astrolabe saw the women past the guard at the gate before going to sleep with the other guards.

  “I’m so weary I don’t think I can even get my shoes off,” Catherine moaned as they went up the stairs.

  “I’ll help you,” Margaret said. “I hope Annora is still up. Then we won’t be the only ones disturbing everyone.”

  “Goodness, I had forgotten all about her.” Catherine stopped at the middle step to rest. “She was so quiet during the questioning. I hope the evening didn’t upset her too much.”

  When they entered the room, the light showed all the other women asleep in their beds. Margaret shone it into the corner where their bed was to see if Annora was awake.

  Once again, Annora’s place was empty.

  “We assumed she was with you,” one of the women told Catherine the next morning.

  “She probably stayed in the countess’s room,” another yawned, “rather than disturb the rest of us.”

  Catherine let the rebuke pass. Where had Annora gone? The first thing that occurred to her was that the woman had a lover. But it didn’t seem like Annora to do something that would certainly infuriate Countess Sybil. So far, none of the women had reported her absence, but if this went on, Catherine was inclined to tell the countess herself.

  In the meantime, she had to face another day.

  “Only four days past the equinox.” Catherine tried to make her tired body stand. “I feel like it’s a midsummer dawn. I’m sure I just went to sleep.”

  “Perhaps you should stay in today.” Margaret’s face was creased with worry.

  “With all we have to do?” Catherine said. “Nonsense! I’m fine. I was just grumbling.”

  “What do we have to do?” Margaret asked.

  “Find Annora, first.” Catherine sat on the edge of the bed and let Margaret help with her hose and shoes. “Then I want to find out as much as we can about this Canon Rolland.”

  “The man who was murdered?” one of the women asked.

  Catherine cursed herself for speaking thoughtlessly. “I was just curious about how it happened,” she said. “They say he was found in the toll booth by the river. What would he have been doing there?”

  “What do you think?” the woman said with a smirk.

  Everyone laughed. “The lower clergy are always too poor to pay for a proper whore in a brothel. They take it whenever they can get it.”

  “The jael probably was working with a gang,” the woman finished. “She lured him to the hut and her confederates dispatched him.” She ran her finger across her throat. “I’m just surprised they didn’t dump the body in the river.”

  “Likely it was too heavy,” someone else suggested. “My brother says he ate enough for four the night he died.”

  “How does he know that?” Catherine asked.

  “Felix is a subdeacon of Paris,” she said. “He was at the dinner with all the others from the chapter.”

  “Do you think he’d talk to me about it?” Catherine asked.

  “Why? Do you want the menu?”

  “It’s important that I find out all I can about what Rolland did that night,” Catherine persisted. “The countess will confirm that my interest is not idle, if you ask her.”

  “It’s nothing to me,” the woman said. “Felix will be at the cathedral this afternoon. Remind me and I’ll introduce him to you.”

  “That was stupid of me to speak in their hearing,” Catherine said to Margaret as they hurried to meet the men. “I must watch my tongue.”

  “But the slip gave you information,” Margaret consoled her. “Although I can’t think it matters where Rolland ate or what.”

  “Anything he did might be important,” Catherine said. “I also want to know more about this Arnulf. At least now we have a name to put to him.”

  “I had thought that the archbishop of Tours knew him,” Margaret said. “But he didn’t seem to last night.”

  “Yes, that’s odd. I could have sworn that when we met them on the road, he said that he and Rolland were working under Archbishop Engebaud’s orders.”

  They found John, Astrolabe and Godfrey waiting for them.

  “I meant to tell you last night,” Godfrey began as soon as they were away from eavesdroppers, “but I didn’t want to give you further cause for worry when there was nothing to be done so late. Gwenael has run away. I se
arched for her yesterday afternoon but had no luck.”

  “I’m sorry for that,” Astrolabe said. “But it might mean that she finally realized there was no use in trying to free Eon. I hope she finds her way back home.”

  “Annora seems to be missing as well,” Catherine said. “At least she didn’t sleep with us last night. The countess may know where she is, but I’m afraid to ask her, in case she doesn’t. Annora would never forgive me.”

  “It is strange that she would do something so foolish,” Godfrey said. “I wonder if her absence might have something to do with the people who came for Lord Gui.”

  “He’s no longer in the infirmary?” Catherine asked in consternation. She still had questions for him, based on Margaret’s conclusions. “How do you know?”

  “That was one of the places I checked when I was looking for Gwenael,” Godfrey told her. “They told me that some of Gui’s relatives had arrived and that he left with them. Apparently he felt much better. I tried to discover more, but apparently they were so glad to be rid of him that no one asked any questions. They were all sure that he was glad to see his family and went willingly. Could Annora have been among them?”

  “It doesn’t seem likely,” Catherine said, “knowing how they feel about each other. Annora didn’t even greet him when they were at the same dinner last Friday.”

  “I think the time has come to inform the countess,” Astrolabe said. “She may know where Annora is. There’s no point in being anxious about her if she’s safe with Lady Sybil.”

  “I’ll go back and ask,” Margaret offered. “Will you wait for me?”

  “At the beer stand,” Astrolabe said. “We won’t move until you return.”

  “And perhaps not for some time after,” said Catherine.

  Margaret hurried back to the convent. It was still early; the nuns had hardly begun chanting Prime. She wondered if it were wise to knock at the countess’s door. What if she woke her?

  As she stood in the courtyard, hesitating, the problem was solved for her. Annora appeared at the entrance to the kitchen gardens. Her hair and clothes were rumpled again. Margaret was not as naive as her family imagined. How could she be? She had a good guess as to what Annora had been doing.

  “Annora!” she waved.

  Annora heard her and stopped. “Who is it?”

  “Margaret.” She came over to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. When you didn’t come in last night we thought something dreadful had happened to you.”

  “I’m fine,” Annora said. “I spent the night at Saint-Etienne, praying for the soul of my sister.”

  “Oh,” Margaret tried to keep the tone even. “Then you must be very tired. I’ll let you go up to rest.”

  “Thank you.” Annora unbent a little. “It was kind of you to be concerned. The meeting last night was very difficult for me. All the time I was safe with Countess Sybil, thinking my sister safe in the convent, Cecile was enduring so many horrors. Hearing about it was terrible. I couldn’t help. I never knew. Now all I can give her are prayers.”

  Margaret felt ashamed of her suspicions although not entirely convinced they were wrong.

  “When I pray for the soul of my mother, as I do each day, I’ll add Cecile’s name to my entreaties,” she promised.

  Annora thanked her and tried to continue up to their room. Margaret moved to stand in her way.

  “Yes?” Annora asked wearily. “Is there something else?”

  Margaret licked her lips. “Yes. I wasn’t going to mention it, but my conscience won’t let me stay silent, especially now that Gui has left.”

  “What? What are you talking about, child?”

  “I’m not a child!” Margaret said instinctively. “I went to see Gui at the Temple. I had a brooch that was found when he was attacked and I thought it might be his. He said it was your grandmother’s but that he had always wanted it. He seemed so sad. I gave it to him. I’m sorry.”

  Annora stared at her, not taking in what she was saying. She blinked.

  “You went to see Gui?”

  “Yes.”

  “You had a brooch you thought was his?”

  “Yes, it was—”

  “Gold, square, with topazes?” Annora asked.

  “Yes, your grandmother’s? He said you had it from Cecile when she left for the convent.”

  “No,” Annora said coldly. “Cecile took it with her. She said it wasn’t a piece of vainglory but a reminder of someone she had loved. It was the only possession she couldn’t give up.”

  “But then how did it get into the garden here?” Margaret wondered. “I was sure Gui had dropped it.”

  Annora had paled. She was holding her mouth tightly, white to the lips, as if trying not to throw up.

  “Whoever did”—she swallowed hard—“could only have taken it from Cecile. Sweet Virgin! The person who killed her was only a step away from me, and I did nothing! If I ever get that close to him again, I swear I will rip out his heart with my bare hands.”

  Nineteen

  A crowded beer stand, Reims. Thursday, 8 kalends April

  (March 25), 1148. Fifth day of the council. Feast of the

  Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin, nine months before the

  Feast of the Nativity.

  Cum ergo staret in conspectus concilii, interrogatus a summo

  pontifice quisnam esset, responit: “Ego sum Eun, qui

  venturus est juidacre vivos et mortuos, et seculum per

  ignem.”…ad haec risit universa synodus, derisitque

  hominem tam profunde datum in reprobum sensum.

  And so, when he stood before the council and was questioned

  by the pope as to who he was, he answered, “I am Eon, who

  is come to judge the living and the dead and the world

  through fire.”…At this the whole council laughed and

  derided a man so deeply disturbed in his mind.

  William of Newburgh, The History of English Affairs

  “I was so sure Annora had dropped the brooch,” Margaret said. “Gui told me it was hers!”

  Margaret’s teeth clanked against the rim of her bowl. She put it down, too agitated to hold it steadily.

  “I’ve done something awful!” she went on. “You should have seen Annora’s face when I told her I had given it to Gui. I might as well have stabbed her with the thing. Now how will we ever know who took the brooch from Cecile? For it must have been the one who killed her. Could it have been Gui?”

  “I’m hoping for Arnulf,” Astrolabe said.

  “That would be nice, but he wasn’t at the dinner where I found it.” Catherine tried to envision the faces of the other guests. She had certainly had enough time to study them, since Gui had ignored her for most of the evening.

  “Margaret, you mustn’t feel bad about this.” John patted her trembling hand. “Your impulse was generous.”

  “But stupid,” Margaret sighed. “And I was positive that Gui had faked the attack. I must have been wrong about that, too.”

  “Astrolabe,” Catherine asked, “could Gui have been among those who raided the Eonite camp?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “All I remember is a horde of men on horses coming toward me.”

  “But Cecile knew one of them,” Catherine said. “We assumed it must have been one of the knights of Henri of Tréguier. What if she saw a family member, one she didn’t trust?”

  “Is there any way we can find out if Gui was in Brittany then?” John asked. “We don’t have time to send messengers.”

  “We can’t even find out if Gui is in Reims now.” Astrolabe hunched over the table, his head in his hands.

  “Then let’s begin with what we can do,” Catherine said. “John, will you come with me to the house where the bishop of Paris is staying? I want to catch this subdeacon Felix before he leaves for the council to see what he can tell us about Rolland’s last night. You probably studied with him, or tutored him or drank with him at least. You can help
me get information. Perhaps someone saw him leave for the toll booth.”

  “Certainly.” John was on his feet at once.

  “What can we do?” Godfrey asked.

  “Find the other two,” Catherine said. “Gui and Gwenael. None of you have told Gui that Cecile is dead, have you?”

  Margaret shook her head vehemently. “He spoke as if he thought she was still at Saint-Georges.”

  “I said nothing,” Astrolabe added.

  “I think it’s time to tell him,” Catherine said. “If he’s innocent of her death, then he may be willing to help us. If he is guilty, then he might well make a slip that will trap him.”

  “And Gwenael?” Margaret asked.

  Catherine shook her head. “I have no idea what she’s planning. But I’d feel better if she were under our supervision. Her wild ideas about Astrolabe could do as much damage as Rolland’s rumormongering.”

  “What about those ‘relatives’ that came for Gui?” Astrolabe asked.

  Catherine threw up her hands. “I’d forgotten all about them. Maybe the guard at the Temple can describe them? Someone will have to ask Annora what other family Gui has. Ow!”

  She pressed a hand against her stomach. The others looked at her in alarm.

  “Just a cramp,” Catherine said. “This child seems to be playing crosses and naughts on the wall of my womb.”

  She adjusted her bliaut.

  “Now, we all have a task,” she said. “We’ll meet back here at Nones. Is that agreeable?”

  They all agreed. Catherine and John left on their errand.

  Astrolabe remained at the table with Godfrey and Margaret. Rather than leaping into action, as Catherine had hoped, all three seemed lost in their own thoughts.

  Astrolabe sighed.

  “Poor Eon is going to be brought before the council today,” he said. “I can’t help now in the way that I had hoped, but I still feel that I should be there to speak for him. Of course it might well make his case worse.”

  “Did it occur to you that you might be arrested before you had a chance to speak at all?” Godfrey asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Astrolabe rubbed his bare chin. “But I’ve waited long enough. I can’t spend the rest of my life denying my name or running from faceless accusers. With all that’s happened here, they may expect me to continue hiding. If I come before the council on my own, it may make their denunciations appear mere bluster.”

 

‹ Prev