Then one item caught her attention. When she pulled it out of the chest, she saw something that so stunned her that it numbed her pain.
It was a robe, finely woven and of somber hue. As she examined it more closely, she saw the ripped sleeve. A piece of cloth was missing. This had not been left behind by the woman and her child, too poor to have owned clothing of such fine workmanship.
She gasped.
From behind her, a hand reached around and clamped her mouth shut. Something very sharp bit into her back.
“I see you have found what I hoped no one would, my lady. In particular I prayed that God would save you from this, for I never slay unless I have no other choice.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Thomas stood outside the walls of Ryehill Priory and looked up at the sky. It was light blue with a wisp of clouds to dull the color. How deceptive, he thought. The promise of fair weather could turn into a howling storm with little warning beyond the ache in an old man’s bones.
A voice called out to him. The wine merchant approached.
Thomas reminded himself that it was not just the weather that could be deceptive. “You look pleased, Master Durant.”
“I found one witness, Brother. Someone was seen leaving Master Larcher’s house before we arrived.”
“That is good news!”
“Perhaps it is not. The man said it was Father Vincent.”
Thomas was shocked. “The man is malevolent, but stoning innocents is his favored cruelty. I doubt he would poison the craftsman who made badges for this priory.”
Durant bent closer. “Look behind you. I think we shall have an opportunity to find out.”
When Thomas turned, he saw the priest and prioress in close conversation at the door to the priory. The pair did not look happy.
“Is it wise to confront him with Prioress Ursell? Might he be more willing to confess his sins if alone?” A small voice whispered in the monk’s heart that it would be good to humiliate the merciless priest. Another tiny murmur suggested he should be kinder than the man he loathed.
“I would like to see how he explains himself in front of her. If he is a killer, it is the duty of the Church to punish him.” The wine merchant gave him a wry smile. “If not, but his transgressions are grievous enough, I have heard that Prioress Ursell whips erring nuns. Perhaps she will be allowed to assist in his penance.”
Although the monk was disinclined to believe the priest would murder two people with poison and knife, he knew the man was capable of allowing someone to die with deliberate neglect. Was it not murder to let Gracia perish for lack of food, or unthinkable cruelty to withhold comfort from a battered child? His heart hardened. “Let us confront him then and press him without mercy.”
The two religious stepped back from each other the moment they saw Brother Thomas and Master Durant approach.
Remembering his first meeting with them, Thomas wondered how the pair would try to hide evidence of foulness committed this time. Bile seared his mouth, but he could not summon charity.
Father Vincent scowled. “You were missed at prayer, Brother.”
“I take the blame for that, Father,” Durant replied. “Brother Thomas and I met on the way to Master Larcher’s house.” He glanced at the monk with a grateful smile. “And I asked if he would walk a while with me to answer some theological questions.”
Father Vincent became as pale as snow.
If Thomas was not mistaken, Durant chuckled softly at the sight of the priest’s dismay.
But the wine merchant’s eyes grew cold. “When we reached the craftsman’s house, I entered.” He bent his head to one side and waited, gazing at the priest. “I was greeted with such a horrible sight that I was obliged to summon Brother Thomas back before he returned to the chapel.”
The prioress started with surprise, her expression suggesting puzzlement as she looked at the priest.
Father Vincent swayed on his feet.
“Master Larcher and his manservant had been murdered most cruelly.” Durant turned to the prioress and waited.
Thomas continued to watch the priest.
“His servant as well?” Ursell cried out. “May God have mercy on their souls!”
“And for that reason, Brother Thomas was not in the chapel for the last Office. He was tending to the souls of two slaughtered men.”
“Has the guilty one been caught?” Ursell put a hand to her mouth, and her eyes rounded in terror. “Master Larcher made the badges we sold to pilgrims. Death has grown too fond of our priory.”
“I feel unwell,” the priest murmured. “I must…”
As he addressed the prioress, Master Durant’s sharp smile might have cut flesh. “There is a witness who saw Father Vincent leaving the craftsman’s house just before we arrived.”
The priest covered his face and slid to his knees.
Horrified, the prioress shouted at Father Vincent. “You lied to me! When you claimed we no longer had reason to fear him, you led me to believe you had spoken harshly to him, threatened him with hellfire, and made him eager to protect this priory from his wrongdoings and those of our nun. Did you kill him?”
Vincent began to whimper.
Although Thomas felt no pity for this trembling creature, he had a duty to offer counsel to all, even those he despised. He walked over to the quivering priest and knelt in front of him.
“The Church will not hang you for your sins,” he said, “but you will never see your beloved shrine again, nor, should I think, God’s sunlight. Now is the time to stop honoring Satan with your lies and tell us all that happened.” He glanced up at the prioress whose face was splotched with the colors of both wrath and fear. “As well as putting yourself in danger of hellfire, you have led this good lady, the prioress of Ryehill, into mortal error with your falsehoods. You must speak the truth for her sake as well as your own. If you do not do this, your soul will drop into the lake of fire when you die.”
A rivulet of urine began to twist around the priest’s knees. “I have sinned. Oh, dear God, I have sinned, but I am not a murderer.” He bent over until his forehead touched the damp earth. “Believe me! And, may it please God, forgive me!”
“You were seen leaving the house just before we found the bodies,” Durant said in an even tone, his expression suggesting he felt no more distress for the priest than he might for boys playing in a quiet street.
“I was there. I confess it!” Vincent looked up, his forehead smeared with mud. “Have mercy and believe me when I say that I, too, found the bodies, but I am innocent of killing the men.”
“Convince me, priest,” the merchant said. “The circumstances do not argue in your favor.”
Father Vincent tried to look outraged. “I am a man of God. How dare you question my word?”
Durant laughed. “Yet you did not summon the sheriff or alert anyone else to what you had discovered. We did. Why did you fail to perform this duty if you were innocent?”
“God’s law rules me! Not the king’s.”
“Such a declaration from you is ill-advised,” Thomas hissed, “unless you want witnesses called to reveal how poorly you observe God’s laws.”
“Who would dare…?”
Prioress Ursell’s head was twisting back and forth, first to stare at her priest and then at his accusers. Although her first inclination would have been to defend her fellow religious, her scowl proved she was changing her mind.
Thomas stood. “All know how you favored a man who raped a child because he gave you donations for the shrine while she was denied the comfort of mercy. Was this because she had no gold to give you? Many say so and even wonder why God has allowed this to happen. And we have witnesses who report that your dealings with Master Larcher were dubious at best.”