“Baron Herbert believes he has been cursed with leprosy.”
Eleanor gasped.
“He has not told his wife nor has he spoken with any of his sons about this. The only one here who knows is Sir Leonel because he observed some of the symptoms in Outremer.”
“That explains why he refuses the company of his family and shuns daylight. You and Master Gamel had time to observe him. Is there anything in his appearance that gives reason to hope that he has some other disease?”
“Although not an expert, I have seen a few afflicted with such severity that the nose has collapsed, they have lost fingers and even their eyes. The baron suffers no significant deformity. That fact allowed Master Gamel some hope. What troubles the physician is that Baron Herbert has lost all body hair, his voice is hoarse, and he has no feeling in his hands. To speed diagnosis, Master Gamel bled him and took a sample of his urine.”
They entered the Great Hall. As they arrived, the young servant girl rushed forward and led them quickly to seats she had prepared by the fire. Eleanor glanced around but did not see either physician or sub-infirmarian. Had they gone together to see the baron?
Sitting, both prioress and monk were served mulled wine. Eleanor thanked the girl and asked her to sit some distance away, close enough for propriety and far enough to allow private speech. A bit of color had returned to the child’s cheeks, and the prioress was pleased to see that she had a slice of cheese to nibble. The girl was little more than skin and bones, she thought, but someone kind had cared enough to slip her a little food.
“Did anyone examine him in Acre or on his journey back to England?” Eleanor kept her voice low as she turned to Thomas. Although no one was near, conversations could carry in the cavernous room.
“Before Baron Herbert set sail for home, a priest was found who agreed to see him in confidence. He confirmed the baron’s fears and said that his affliction was God’s curse for his terrible wickedness.”
“A soldier who sins were forgiven when he took the cross?”
“We have learned to our own grief that men, cleansed of all transgression by that vow, later committed horrible acts.”
Eleanor nodded, recalling an event some years back when a madman had threatened Tyndal Priory. She frowned. “I assume he has confessed those offenses to you.”
“Although I dare not reveal his words, I will say to you alone that nothing seemed so dreadful that God would likely condemn him to this ghastly fate. Perhaps he withheld something from me, although surely not. Since he has called us here, he no longer has cause if ever he did.”
“He remains convinced of God’s curse?” She raised an eyebrow.
“He sought a miracle in Rome and consulted with physicians in Solerno and Paris,” Thomas said. “The physicians were divided in their opinions. The priest in Rome agreed with the one in Acre. Baron Herbert is confused by earthly medicine and horrified by the sacred. As he said, he might understand being so wicked that God flung this disease upon him. He does not see why his sons must die.”
In truth, neither did Eleanor. As for his illness, she quietly prayed that Master Gamel and Sister Anne could give the man a definitive answer. “His desire to avoid spreading the contagion to his family is a wise one, but why did he return home? He endangered all on the ship, any with whom he shared companionship, a meal, or a bed. Even if Sir Leonel is free of contagion, he has been put at risk as well.”
“Mortals commit illogical acts when terrified, my lady. He longs to be near his wife, even if he may never look upon her again. As for his sons, he hoped to learn that at least one has become worthy of this patrimony if he must surrender it all.”
“And yet they die, one after another.” Eleanor grew thoughtful.
“At least he has not succumbed to utter hopelessness and wants to save his remaining son from God’s scourge. All others from whom he sought advice were strangers, owing him neither loyalty nor love. That was why he turned to Sir Hugh for aid, a man he calls brother.”
Eleanor bent to stroke a thick-furred cat that had inched closer to the heat. “Acknowledging that he must be certain, did the physician confide his initial impressions to you?”
“Any diagnosis of the disease is cruel for the person and the family, he said, nor is the decision a simple one. He told me that there are many signs to note before a man is declared cursed with leprosy. Although he is familiar with the disease, he begged to confer with Sister Anne.” His lips twitched into a brief smile. “He knows of her reputation as a healer, and their conversations have confirmed the tales told.”
“And if Master Gamel concludes that Baron Herbert is afflicted as the priest in Outremer determined?”
“Surely there are places in England he might travel in his quest for a divine reprieve.”
“Sister Anne once mentioned Canterbury. Some lepers have been cleansed after bathing in water to which a drop of St. Thomas’ blood has been added. Others, who have gone on pilgrimage to great shrines, have been cured or granted a long return of good health. Occasionally, a man has been found clean after a more thorough examination.”
Thomas nodded and looked around. The young servant was dozing, the cheese rind still held loosely in her hand. “There is something else I wanted to discuss with you, my lady. It has nothing to do with this matter of leprosy, but it might have relevance to the death of his sons.”
“Indeed?”
“The other night, I met a soldier walking on the ramparts. It was he who discovered the old priest’s body. When he looked at the corpse, he noticed that the open eyes were streaked with red. His conclusion was that Satan or one of his imps had stolen the priest’s soul and branded his eyes with the color of hellfire.” He hesitated.
The prioress nodded for him to continue.
“He fears consequences if this information should be traced to him.”
“Some means of protection shall be arranged if his testimony is required.”
“When he said the eyes were marked with blood, I suspected the priest had been suffocated.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “I have seen a man killed in like manner before and remembered that these signs pointed to that method of execution.”
Eleanor chose not to ask for any details of this knowledge. “This is frightening news. Did you learn more?”
“Since I am staying in the priest’s old chambers, I returned to search but found little. He may have been fond of wine, but he honored his vow of poverty. The very simplicity of his room was so austere that I almost failed to find two strange things. The first appears to be a seal depicting St. Lazarus.”
She smiled. “I am sure that you have kept this safe.”
He reached into his pouch and gave her the seal.
Gazing at it, she grew pensive. “This belongs to the Order of St. Lazarus.”
“The leper knights in Outremer?”
She nodded. “Their main center in England is a monastery called Burton Lazars.”
“Might this mean that the baron intended to join them?”
“Either that or he was in communication with them about a proposed gift and they had replied.”
“He did not mention this when he spoke with Master Gamel and me.”
“Perhaps he thought it of less import than other matters, although I do wonder where the priest found it and why he kept it.” She hesitated. Her jaw tightened as she made a difficult decision. “Brother, I have heard that the baron loves none of his sons and much prefers his nephew.”
“He spoke little enough of them, except to say that God must have reason to hate him or He would not slaughter his offspring like Job’s sons.” Thomas raised a hand. “He did mention Raoul, calling the youth an ill-natured cur.”
“Other than Sir Leonel, son of his dead brother, I believe that Baron Herbert has no other living nephews. Should all his own offspring die, this nephew would become his heir, a man he loves and honors above any of his own brood.”