De Wolfe noticed that though her brother huffed and puffed and warned her again about the danger she would be in, he made no real effort to persuade her to stay, as a little of Matilda was more than enough for him or his wife and she could outstay her welcome in a matter of hours.
John decided there was no point in further discussion and, with a muted farewell to his wife until the morrow, he left the room. Richard followed him to the front door, strutting as if to make sure he did not steal anything or assault his staff.
As de Wolfe stepped into the street, his brother-in-law made one last parting shot. ‘Behave yourself, John! My sister is very dear to me,’ he bleated with false sincerity. ‘If any harm befalls her, I will know where the blame lies!’
Resisting the temptation to punch him on the nose, the coroner stalked off, not deigning to offer a reply.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After the chapter meeting next morning, ten of the twenty-four canons stayed behind in the chapter house after the vicars and secondaries had left. The three keenest heretic-crushers had been joined by the other proctor, William de Swindon, as well as the precentor, the treasurer and three other prebendaries. The tenth was John de Alençon, who as archdeacon and the bishop’s vicar-general, could hardly absent himself. Henry Marshal’s chaplain and the legal deacon were also in attendance as Robert de Baggetor took it upon himself to lead the meeting without seeking any approval from the others.
‘We are in an intolerable situation!’ he boomed. ‘The cathedral, and indeed the Holy Church itself, has been slighted and insulted by the arrogant and high-handed actions of those barbarians in Rougemont!’
Though the archdeacon had intended to keep as low a profile as possible, this was too much for him. ‘Come, my brother, that is putting it too strongly!’ he retorted. ‘There was a major riot in the city, one man was injured and another almost hanged — what did you expect the law officers to do? Ignore it?’
‘The citizens were displaying their anger and abhorrence of the presence of those cursed unbelievers in the town,’ snapped Richard fitz Rogo. ‘They are not fit to live and if we, as guardians of the faith, failed to take proper action, then I do not condemn the townsfolk for taking the law into their own hands.’
‘A failure, I regret having to point out to you, de Alençon, was in no small measure due to your unhelpful leadership at the inquisition on Wednesday, archdeacon,’ added Ralph de Hospitali waspishly.
John de Alençon remained silent, not wanting to fuel the tirade by responding, but de Baggetor was unwilling to let the matter drop.
‘Not only have they arrested two men in holy orders, but they set the blasphemers free — and in fact assisted them in leaving by ship!’ he blustered. ‘How do you view that piece of defiance to the Church, archdeacon?’
Questioned directly in that way, de Alençon had no option but to reply.
‘There seems no doubt, according to eyewitnesses among the stevedores and ship-men on the other vessel, that Rugge and de Bere were the instigators of the riot and were central to the seizure and threatened execution of the alleged heretics, so is it at all surprising that the sheriff’s men arrested them?’
‘Not alleged heretics — they were self-confessed heretics!’ interrupted de Hospitali hotly. ‘They boasted as much before us on Wednesday.’
The archdeacon ignored this and carried on. ‘Those men had committed no civil or criminal offence and were quite entitled to go about their business until such time as the bishop’s court passed a judgement upon them. And part of that business was the right to take ship, if they so chose.’
This was too much for Robert de Baggetor, who almost exploded into loud speech. ‘Brother John, you seem suspiciously sympathetic to these wretches who defy the might of the Church of Rome! Are you losing your faith, man, to be so partial to the cause of those who would mock and seek to bring down the very structure that for over a thousand years has steered the unlettered common herd in the true path of Christianity?’
Pale with anger, the archdeacon turned upon his fellow canon. ‘I beg you, do not dare to question my faith and my devotion to the Church I have served all my life! But like our Saviour Himself, I seek to tread the path of justice and compassion. As yet, those men have been convicted of nothing and do not deserve to be hounded by a mob, half of them drunk, who wished to string them up from the nearest tree.’
He pointed a quivering finger at de Baggetor. ‘And whether you like it or not, those same men are avowed Christians, who merely wish to think their own thoughts about their faith and not be dictated to by the likes of us as to how their minds must function!’
De Baggetor laughed sardonically. ‘The next thing you will be advocating will be a translation of the Vulgate into English and then teaching the peasants how to read it!’ he sneered. ‘Would such a catastrophe please you, archdeacon? It would make us priests redundant as their means of intercession with the Almighty!’
William de Swindon, who seemed to be a late convert to the anti-heretic camp, broke in to stop this personal squabble between de Alençon and de Baggetor. ‘Let us direct our minds to the immediate problems, brothers. We seem to have lost those four men who came before us, though I understand that the fifth, the fuller Algar, chose to remain in the city, no doubt to defy us further.’
‘He will be attended to very soon,’ interjected Robert de Baggetor. ‘I have already given instructions to our proctors’ men to seize him and place him in the cells in the Close.’
The archdeacon, his sense of justice overriding his caution, objected at once. ‘At the end of that inquisition, I gave orders to the bailiffs that the five men be guarded from public assault. Now you are going back on our direction not to let them be interfered with.’
‘It was not our direction, brother — it was entirely yours!’ snapped de Hospitali. ‘Personally, I would have welcomed the crowd stoning them to death, as the Old Testament prescribed for those who denied the Lord God.’
The archdeacon could see that it was futile to again point out that the accused men had denied no one except the autocracy of Rome and were equally as good Christians as the entire chapter of canons. He was conscious that he had already put himself in a difficult position and there was no point in making matters worse.
The other proctor, William de Swindon, returned to his practicalities. ‘The other aspect is most urgent. We have two men now incarcerated in the castle gaol, who, however hasty their actions yesterday, are still in holy orders. I hear that they will be brought before the sheriff court and thence probably to the next Eyre of Assize, though God knows when that will be. Are we to let them rot there without protest?’
A gabble of indignation rippled around the circle of priests, but again Robert de Baggetor raised a hand and took over the proceedings. ‘By no means! I am sending our law deacon up to Rougemont this very morning, with a demand to the sheriff that they be released forthwith into our custody. They can be lodged in the proctors’ cells for a time, though I see no reason why they should not be dealt with very leniently, as they were only doing what they saw as God’s will.’
‘Who exactly are they?’ asked one of the canons who had not previously spoken. He was Jordan de Brent, the cathedral librarian and archivist, an elderly, amiable man, more immersed in books and manuscripts than with everyday events.
‘One is Reginald Rugge, a lay brother who helps out at St Olave’s Church,’ replied fitz Rogo. ‘The priest there, Julian Fulk, came to see me last night, entreating me to help in getting Rugge released.’
‘But St Olave’s is not part of our cathedral enclave,’ objected the archivist gently. ‘It is not even within the jurisdiction of our bishop, for it belongs to St Nicholas Priory, which itself is a cell of Battle Abbey in Sussex.’