Satan's Lullaby

Chapter Fifteen

Brother Thomas paced up and down the path near the hospital, unable to dampen his anger. How dare that arrogant priest accuse Sister Anne of murder?

Proving her innocence should be simple, he thought with bitter sarcasm. All he had to do was find the hooded and unidentifiable messenger who had come for the remedy, and do so without offending Davoir, who seemed to dislike him anyway.

Thomas knew the elusive one could not be a lay brother or monk from the priory. He must be one of the clerks, slipped like a venomous snake into Tyndal by that accursed priest. Or, he thought, he was one of the soldiers who had accompanied the band of investigators here. If he found a man he suspected, he wondered how he could arrange a meeting between the suspect and Sister Anne with the hope she would recognize the voice if she heard it again.

“Brother!”

Thomas turned to see a gray-faced crowner behind him. “You have finally been summoned?” He had tried to keep his sour mood out of his tone but failed.

“Only after a miscarriage of justice and much reluctance by that priest.” Ralf threw his hands up in despair. “The man may have the unquestionable right to do as he wishes with those vowed to God on priory grounds, but I tried to argue on Sister Anne’s behalf, believing my long acquaintance with her was useful. He silenced me with a churlishness not even a confessed thief deserves.” Ralf swallowed a curse. “If God dared to disagree with him, I doubt this Davoir would even listen.”

Despite the crowner’s sharp words, Thomas thought Ralf looked both weary and distraught. “You have examined the body?” he quickly asked. His own anger fleeing in the face of his friend’s unease, the monk’s voice grew gentle.

“That I have, for all the good it did me. My conclusion is that the clerk, Jean, is dead.” He flashed a scornful smile. “Beyond that, I can say little with any certainty. He bears no stab wounds, signs of a crushed skull or garroting. Has he been murdered? I fear he has. That other fool of a clerk whimpered about convulsions and wild visions but claimed the lad never had a fever.”

“Was that the clerk called Renaud?”

Ralf nodded in disgust. “But, when I tried to question him further, all he did was blubber like my brother, Odo, when he was a boy and I yanked his hair.”

Thomas tried not to smile. Ralf’s ill-loved and second-oldest brother had since taken vows, become an abbot, and grown fat on the king’s frequent gifts of venison.

“I need Annie’s opinion just like I did when Martin Cooper was killed. Poison is not a weapon I know well, and that seems the most likely explanation for the death.”

“Jean had no enemies?”

“After I yelled at Renaud to stop whining, I asked. According to him, the clerk was the saintly beloved of this pest from your abbey. The worst Renaud could say about him was that he was unsure whether Jean was wrestling with a demon in bed, having visions from God, or was sick.” Ralf ran a hand under his nose, and then sneezed. “Don’t bless me, Brother. The Devil and I meet with such frequency over villainous deaths that we have become like kin.”

“You are not only a father once but soon to be twice. You need a blessing, Crowner.” And he gave him one to keep evil from filling the space left by the sneeze.

Now that his contempt of clerics was vented, Ralf sank into unhappy silence.

“You have learned from Davoir or his clerk about the accusations against Sister Anne?”

“From that vermin sent by your abbess. How could he be trusted to review anything when he is blind to all facts?” He spat. “I swear I saw ears on Davoir. If he owns them, why can he not hear when those with knowledge of Annie’s virtue speak so eloquently on her behalf?”

“I do not understand how he could insist on her arrest and confinement either. Father Etienne may have the authority to examine the state of Tyndal Priory, but Prioress Eleanor still rules here.”

Ralf hit the monk on the shoulder. “Have you not heard the rest of the foul news? This I learned from the sniveling clerk.”

The monk stared at him as if unable to comprehend that something even worse than the arrest of the sub-infirmarian could have happened.

“Davoir also threw suspicion on Prioress Eleanor regarding his clerk’s death. And do you know why?” His voice had risen to a shout.

The force of his friend’s outrage was so numbing, Thomas found he had lost the ability to ask for an explanation.

“That tonsured louse claims that our good prioress may have ordered Annie to kill the clerk.” His face flushed red, and he turned away. “The priest accused her of doing this to make him flee, lest he discover the truth about…”

“The purpose he was sent here? He finally said why this visit was ordered?”

“You and Prioress Eleanor have been accused of lying together in unholy lust.” Ralf could not face the monk as he said that. Instead, he stared back at the guest quarters as if willing them to spontaneously combust.

Thomas’ mouth dropped open.

Ralf spun around and shook his fist. “Swear you will defend yourself against this vile accusation!”

Thomas stared at him. “I have heard many lies, Ralf, but this is one of the most abominable. As for defense, I must rely on the strength of the truth. ”

“Who could have accused you both of such a thing?” Ralf laid a hand on his sword hilt. “Since your vows preclude you from doing violence, tell me the name. I shall render the justice due the lying fiend.” He lifted and dropped the sword back into its scabbard.

Thomas fell silent as he thought, then shook his head. “I do not know, Ralf. Our prioress owns great virtue and ably serves God. She feeds and clothes us all well. The poor are given food. The sick receive the finest care in England. The mill grinds the village grain at no profit. And, when she is not running this priory with an integrity and skill most men would envy, she brings murderers to justice. The reason for this condemnation is not based in any fault she owns. Someone has grown jealous of her virtues.”

“She may run the priory with the aid of others, but it is you who stands by her side in matters of unlawful bloodshed. Someone hates you with equal fervor.”

“I do little enough, Crowner. It is she who leads me to the truth, just as she leads all at Tyndal to God. The insult is against her, not me.” Thomas shuddered. “Sinner though I may be, and God knows best what frailties I own, I am not guilty of lying with our prioress nor is she, virtuous woman that she is, guilty of breaking her vows with any man.”

Although he had once suspected her of suffering lust, he had also seen her battle with the evil spirit of desire until it fled and she saw the wicked heart the man possessed. For her valor and fortitude in that struggle, he respected her even more. He often told others in confession, that it was not the temptation God abhorred. It was the succumbing He loathed. As for his own sinning, he had surrendered only once to his greatest weakness. Yet it was an act he could not fully repent and one still debated with God.

“The accusation against you both remains unaddressed,” Ralf said, “and most probably will until this clerk’s death is solved. The resolution will be difficult. Annie is locked away. Prioress Eleanor cannot help prove her innocence. If she tries, she will be accused of tainting the evidence to protect herself. And you…”

Thomas felt ill. “And I am hobbled like a horse because I am accused of being our prioress’ lover.”

Ralf nodded. “Someone has been fiendishly clever. Those most able to solve this problem have been rendered impotent.”

“You are left to do it. Alone.” Thomas might be frustrated over his inability to act, but he had no doubt about his friend’s competence.

“I cannot do it all, Brother. Although I may investigate a suspicious death, I am treading on God’s earth at the priory. There are people I cannot question without a witness present. If Davoir chooses that person, the monk or nun might hesitate to give an honest statement out of fear of the priest’s retaliation. If I find the culprit, and he falls under God’s law, I cannot take that person into custody. Church justice outranks the king’s here, as does the final questioning. And it is hard to imagine that the killer slipped over the walls to administer a lethal dose of some poison to a clerk in the company of Father Etienne. I fear the man is one of yours, not mine.”

“You must still ask the priest questions.”

“Which he can refuse to answer because he denies my authority to do so. Not only is he vowed to God, he is the brother of your noble abbess, and he is the confessor to one of the French king’s brothers.”

“If nothing can be resolved quickly about the clerk’s death,” Thomas said, “the accusation against our prioress festers. Prioress Eleanor will not meekly submit to the injustice rendered against her. The matter will go to Rome.”

“And we may all be dead by the time Pope Nicholas III renders judgement. After the roof fell and killed his predecessor, he might be leery of making decisions without long consultations with God.” The crowner turned pale. “And my wife needs our Annie with her at the birth. Gytha is a brave woman, but this is her first babe. If anything goes wrong…”

“Has Sister Anne said there was any possibility of a problem?”

“Would she?” Ralf covered his face. “Remember the horrible birthing of that young mother when the Jews were almost murdered by the mob here?”

Thomas put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Not all women suffer so. If our sub-infirmarian is confident this late in Gytha’s pregnancy that all is well…”

“Women have died after being told they had no cause to fear the birth.” Ralf’s voice grew hoarse. “My first wife was given no grounds to doubt her survival. Sibley was born healthy, but my wife died a few days later. Gytha resides where my heart lives, Brother. Without Annie’s care, she might die and so shall I.”

Ralf turned his back on his friend, but Thomas saw the tears. “Then we must prove Sister Anne innocent and free her in time for the birthing.”

As he spun around, the crowner’s face was scarlet with rage. His fist clenched as if he longed to strike the monk, but he wilted in an instant and fell to his knees on the path. “Were Gytha to die, I will leave this world. I swear it.”

Thomas dragged his friend to his feet. “You would be a most troublesome monk, Crowner. And if you meant you would commit self-murder, I advise against it. Your wife, a good woman and a loving spouse, would be in Paradise while you spent an eternity far away from her in Hell for your crime. I suggest we set our minds to figuring out how to get across the moat the wicked and the fools have dug around us. We shall find the truth.”

Ralf glared at his friend, then burst out laughing. “You are right, monk. I have no calling for chastity or obedience, although poverty might suit me well enough. But should I fall into Hell, I think even God would pity Satan, for I would surely make the Devil as miserable as I.”

“I fear even I might feel some sympathy for the Prince of Darkness!” Thomas grinned, then took Ralf by the arm and whispered in his ear. “Let us consider our choices.” He looked around, but no one was close enough to hear.

“Do we have any?”

Someone called out to them. Looking up, they saw Gracia running toward them.

“Come!” she said, skidding to a stop and panting from the exertion. She looked over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “Prioress Eleanor calls you both to attend her. She has something to discuss. But you must arrive without being seen, lest a wandering clerk report the meeting to a certain high-ranking guest. I see none on this path. Hurry!”

“If our prioress has joined our conspiracy, Crowner, I begin to hope,” Thomas said to Ralf.

As the trio hurried down the path to the prioress’ chambers, Ralf glanced back and saw Conan walking toward the guest quarters. Fearing the man had seen the three of them together, the crowner raised his hand in greeting as if he wished to tarry with the guard captain. In fact, he only hoped to distract Conan lest the man see Thomas walking toward Prioress Eleanor’s quarters.

But Conan ignored the gesture and continued on his way.