A Killing Season

Chapter Thirty-Five

Master Gamel directed those entering the baron’s chambers to the places where they might safely stand.

Baron Herbert sat in a chair against the far wall, his head covered by a hood and his face in shadow.

Waiting near the open door, Eleanor leaned close to her brother. “Did you visit Raoul and Umfrey earlier today? I have not gotten word on their health,” she whispered. “Sister Anne and Brother Thomas were still with the patients when I was summoned here.”

“Both continue to thrive. Master Gamel said the danger of festering is now slight, and they will surely live.”

Acknowledging the physician’s gesture, Hugh led his sister to their assigned places. The fortress commander bowed as the couple passed.

“You had little cause to fear,” her brother continued. “Your priory healer has used so many foul-smelling concoctions that even the Devil would flee the stench. Master Gamel, on the other hand, looks upon her work with such a pleasant expression that I imagined him in a sweet-scented meadow. What odd creatures these healers are to find pleasure in so many strange potions.” He chuckled but quickly turned solemn. “Sister Anne and Master Lucas should meet one day.”

Eleanor had feared this request. Although her brother’s physician from Acre had accepted baptism, few of his ancestry came to England. Since his arrival, many whispered their distrust and apprehension of the man. She herself was uncertain. Looking up at her brother, she decided that God would give her direction in this matter when the time came to deal with it. For now, all she need give him was a noncommittal nod.

Slipping into the chambers at the last minute, Sister Anne and Brother Thomas found places near Lady Margaret. Two stewards stepped back to give them precedence.

Master Gamel’s expression brightened, then he gestured to the servant who left, closing the door behind him.

With evident hesitation, Baron Herbert rose. Keeping his head bowed, he cleared his throat. “Since returning home, I have distanced myself from all who greeted me. They celebrated my safe arrival from Outremer with joy. I answered their smiles with harsh words and turned my back on their shouts of hosanna.” His voice was hoarse. “To all, my actions were cruel. Some wondered aloud if I had lost my reason.” Coughing, he took time to glare at the rushes around his feet as if something there had offended. “I have even heard it murmured that my wife caused me grave displeasure. For her offenses, I rejected her.”

Lady Margaret bowed her head but not quickly enough to hide her pallor and moist eyes.

“Then my sons, one after the other, suffered strange, violent deaths.” He fell silent. Turning to stare out the window, his mouth twitched. “I soon heard tales that God was punishing me for a dark and secret sin.” He looked back at the assembled, carefully looking over their heads. “I undoubtedly sinned, yet my greatest wickedness lay in trusting one of Satan’s spawn, a viper I held to my breast as if he were my son.” Tears began to flow without restraint down his cheeks. “Had God not revealed the serpent’s true nature to Prioress Eleanor, I might have remained blind to the evil by my side.”

“Such love may have been misguided, my lord, but not sinful,” Brother Thomas said.

The baron nodded with a bitter smile. “So you have said to console me, Brother, but snakes bite. I was blinded to Leonel’s nature by my own sinful pride, seeing in him an image of myself. I thought him perfect in his manhood, fighting in Outremer as I did for God’s honor. In comparison, my sons were weak things, little better than daughters.” He clenched his fist. “Because of my arrogance, God ripped my boys from my arms, one after another until, in His mercy, he left me two. For a short while, I thought one of those was dead and the other a murderer…”

“I seek pardon for misleading you, my lord,” Eleanor said.

“God guided you in that decision,” he replied, “for my soul had to suffer utter despair. Only then could I learn compassion. When I grieved that I had discovered it too late, God saw repentance in my heart and gave me back two sons.”

Lady Margaret began to sob.

“Raoul was a child when I left,” the baron said, “a boy whom I humiliated without true cause. When I returned, he had grown to manhood, but I never looked at him, casting my loving gaze only on my nephew. Leonel was Satan’s creature, feigning the son I longed to have, blinding me to the son who had become all I wished.” He rubbed at his eyes, angry with the tears they bled. “How my boy must curse me!”

“Take comfort, my lord. Both your sons speak passionately of their love for you. Indeed, their only sorrow was hearing the news of your…” Sister Anne stopped, her face flushing, and bowed her head.

Baron Herbert turned to Master Gamel. “You have told them?”

“I did, my lord. Was it not best that they hear the news from me rather than rumor-whispering servants? Your sons begged permission to stand by your side today, but I forbade it in your name, fearing the visit would endanger their still fragile health.”

“Then I shall no longer hesitate to reveal the horror of my state to those assembled here. When you leave, you shall convey the truth to those of lower rank under your authority. It is my wife, however, who must bear the greatest burden.”

Lady Margaret raised her head and stared at her husband.

He did not meet her eyes. “My strange actions since returning home were not due to any fault in you, my beloved wife. I stand back from your embrace only because I am now the vilest of creatures. My desire to remain separated from my beloved family lies in a contagion I brought back with me from Acre.” He gestured around the chambers. “I do not look at you because the noxious disease may be transmitted through my poisonous gaze. In order to protect you from my deadly breath, Master Gamel has asked that you come no closer to me than you have been bidden.” He stopped, his mouth opening and closing with the effort to speak, but no words came forth.

The physician gasped, fearing apoplexy had struck his patient.

“I am a leper!” Baron Herbert howled, covering his face with his hands.

Lady Margaret shrieked, stretched forth her arms, and collapsed to her knees.

Kneeling beside the lady, Sister Anne hugged the trembling woman close and murmured comfort.

Herbert turned his back and tried to swallow his pain. “Lady, our union came about because our families found profit in it. On our marriage day, I prayed only that you might prove fruitful and obedient. In return, I vowed to grant you the respect due a mother of sons. Then God blessed me beyond all hope, and I grew to love you beyond all measure. The birth of our five sons further proved He smiled on our union.” His voice coarsened with tears. “Now I must flee from you, a corpse without a coffin, and make a widow of you while I still live.”

With the help of Sister Anne, Lady Margaret rose to her feet, her face bereft of all color. Her lips quivered.

“I may deserve this curse as punishment for my sins,” Herbert said, “but you do not. Can you ever forgive me for the affliction I have laid upon you?” No hope softened the question.

The lady stiffened, then gently pushed aside the nun’s arm. She stepped forward, hesitated, then took another step.

Even the wind outside grew hushed, waiting for what she might say.

“My lord.”

Herbert turned, drew his hood closely over his face, and stared at the floor.

Lady Margaret walked up to her husband and knelt at his feet.

Master Gamel reached out to restrain her, then drew back when she glared at him with determined fury.

“Look upon me, my lord. I beg it of you.”

Herbert obeyed with eyes shut.

Margaret reached up and grasped his hand. “A wife must ever obey her lord husband, for so the Church commands. Yet is it not also our duty to serve as needed?” She glanced back at Brother Thomas.

He nodded, his eyes sad with understanding.

For a moment, she caressed her husband’s hand, then realized he did not feel her touch. Gently, she tugged at him.

He opened his eyes and gazed at his wife. Horrified, he tried to draw his hand away, but his will lacked strength.

Clinging to her husband, Margaret smiled. “I obediently vowed myself to you at the church door, but my heart soon learned to rejoice in its duty. Now I renew that vow given in our first marriage hour. From this day until our spirits go to God, I shall never leave your side. If God wills that I remain free of this contagion, I shall tend you until He demands your soul. If I join you in this affliction, we shall endure it together and do so with joy, not sorrow. Godly men proclaim that a leper’s earthly travail shortens the time his soul must spend in Purgatory. If that is true, I shall rejoice in whatever misery we must endure together.”

The baron began to protest, trying again to loosen her hold.

She gripped harder. “Forgive me, my lord, for my unwomanly rebellion against your will. Although your wish to abandon me is meant kindly, I have suffered too many years alone after you took the cross. I am a woman, frail and lacking a man’s stomach in the face of troubles. I truly need your strength to continue in this world. Does God condemn women who perform their duties with love? I think not and beg you to allow me the right to carry out this service.”

He may not have felt her tender touch on his hands, yet Herbert’s face revealed that he felt the gentleness in his heart. He raised her to her feet, then looked in the general direction of the physician, his eyes pleading once more for a reprieve from the torment of his deadly illness.

Gamel wiped the tears from his cheeks and chose to address the wife instead. “My lady, I will offer you one hope. Your husband does not exhibit enough signs of the affliction to be certain he has the disease.”

“There must be some cure…”

“There are as many treatments as there are physicians. A few claim success with castration which cools the body. Others praise potions of honey mixed with rosemary or cumin and drunk with wine. More use cupping or bleeding.” Gamel looked over at Sister Anne. “I have found nothing of man’s creation that heals leprosy, my lady. Instead, I advise your husband to seek a cure at the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury, well-known for many miracles. Lepers bathed in water blessed with a drop of the martyr’s blood have been spontaneously cleansed.”

“Hope,” the lady murmured.

“Until such time as the true nature of his condition is revealed, I have promised your husband that I will remain by his side.” He turned his head away from the sub-infirmarian. “I shall inform my son of my continued absence from London. My own need for pilgrimage is great, suffering as I do from so many sins. St. Thomas shows much kindness to the penitent.”

Margaret’s eyes brightened as she looked up at the baron. “In that case, my lord, we must swiftly arrange a marriage for Umfrey, your heir. While we undertake this healing pilgrimage in search of God’s mercy, he shall act in your stead here. A good helpmeet will give him the comfort he needs in that endeavor.”

Herbert winced as if the thought of Umfrey as heir struck him like a dagger blow. “He is not capable…” Looking down at his wife, he fell silent.

Margaret continued gazing upon her husband with unblinking joy.

Thomas stepped forward. “May I have leave to speak on behalf of your two sons, my lord?”

The baron nodded permission, his eyes never leaving his wife’s face.

“Although bound to honor your will with filial obedience, Umfrey begs to be released from worldly duty. In penance for his sins, he longs to serve God for the remainder of his life and to renounce his right of inheritance in favor of Raoul. Were he able, he would come before you and swear that the miracle of his survival is proof that God demands his service, a command he would obey. He asked me to kneel on his behalf and beg you to grant his plea.” The monk got down on his knees.

Herbert blinked in surprise. “What does Raoul say of this?”

“Your youngest son humbly adds his supplication to that of his brother, saying that he dare not ignore God’s clear intent, although he will honor your decision in this matter.” Thomas gestured toward the physician. “I must add one detail in support of Umfrey’s belief that God saved him for His service. Master Gamel concludes that the cross Raoul brought to comfort his elder brother diverted the knife blow.”

Gamel swiftly concurred.

“Should you grant your heir’s entreaty, Raoul vows to build a hermitage on this island where Umfrey may live out his life in solitary prayer. In this way, the brothers shall not be parted. Each man swears to perform his new responsibilities with honor and courage.” Thomas rose and stepped back.

“Grant Umfrey’s plea, my lord!” Lady Margaret placed one hand on her heart.

For the first time since his return from Acre, Baron Herbert smiled with happiness. Then he gave his consent.