“Neither you nor I can investigate without casting doubt on the validity of any evidence we find,” Thomas said to his prioress. “And Ralf’s authority here is limited.”
“You and I have always worked together in perfect accord, my lady, but Davoir will not allow me that freedom of consultation or investigation.” The crowner raised a fistful of food and then bit into his cheese.
“The precedent of cooperation has been set, Ralf. If Davoir questions it, any at this priory can confirm the practice and the respect you have always shown God’s law. In order to determine if this death is murder…”
“Davoir has already decided Sister Anne killed his clerk.” Fighting a resurgence of despair, Ralf waved a diminished handful of food at the ceiling. “May God curse him,” he muttered.
“And no matter how firmly Father Etienne holds that conclusion, he is in error. If he cannot be wooed by logic, I shall exercise my right to override any attempt by him to supersede my commands.” Her smile was as cold as a north wind on the feast of All Saints.
“What if he orders his clerks to lock you into a cell?” Ralf’s face turned gray.
“He has his clerks. I have loyal lay brothers under the command of Brother Beorn, all of whom wield pitchforks with the same skill clerks use quills.”
There was absolute stillness in the room as they all stared at her.
Thomas broke it with a laugh. “Brother Beorn might be army enough by himself, my lady. Even our crowner gives way to our lay brother on the path when they meet each other.” Glancing around, he was relieved to see that the mood had lightened. Even Ralf was grinning.
“At times I pity God that the lay brother serves Him,” Ralf said, then took more cheese when Gracia quickly offered it to him.
“If God has compassion for our guest, we may not need to use the lay brother, our greatest weapon. I can debate for hours with Father Etienne. By the time the priest and I have stopped quarrelling, Crowner, you will have done everything needed to prove our sub-infirmarian innocent or at least raise a reasonable doubt in Father Etienne’s mind.” Eleanor sat back in her chair and fingered her staff of office. The time for jests was over.
Ralf rose and began to pace. “Whom may I approach?”
“Begin with Sister Anne while you may,” she replied. “I will send someone with you for proper attendance. Ask for her version of the events, seek any clarification you need, and present your observations of the corpse. You have seen, touched, and smelled the body. From your questions and comments, our sub-infirmarian may have enough information to give you her firm opinion on the cause of Jean’s death.” She thought for a moment. “If God is kind, she may be able to help with timing of the death. Perhaps the beginning of the symptoms will provide a new clue, although I fear this elusive Brother Imbert remains the key to the locked chest where the solution lies.”
“But will Davoir allow this?”
“We shall invite his participation. Ask him for one of his best clerks to record and witness the interrogation. For all I care in this matter, you can leave the door to the cell open so everyone can hear what is said. There is no purpose in hiding anything if you phrase your questions cleverly.” Her smile was mischievous. “And I know just how clever you can be, Crowner. After all, you stole my maid from me.”
He flushed.
“Sister Anne must be made aware of this plan,” Thomas said. “How can that be done?”
The prioress gestured to her maid. “Gracia shall take our nun her meal from the kitchen and give her a brief message to alert her.”
“Won’t Davoir be suspicious if your maid appears so often, my lady?” Ralf asked.
Eleanor stood and gestured to the girl to come closer. Putting an arm around her, the prioress said to the crowner, “Look upon her. Do you see a child or a woman?”
“When you first came to Tyndal, Gytha was only a little older but had a woman’s form,” Ralf said after a moment. “Gracia does not.”
“Exactly. If Father Etienne notices her at all, he will dismiss her competence due to her perceived youth. Perhaps he thinks I selected a babe to serve me out of simple charity and will soon rue my choice. He most certainly does not see her as a messenger, nor one who observes and reasons far better than most owning many more years on this earth. Brother Thomas and I learned just how clever Gracia was in Walsingham. I am grateful she chose to come back with us and bring those skills.”
Gracia flushed with pleasure.
Thomas winked at her. “More fools they. Look at how effectively she questioned Sister Oliva in the hospital apothecary hut.”
“I did nothing except obey my lady,” Gracia said softly.
Eleanor gave her a hug. “And I take no credit for the gifts God has bestowed on you, my child.”
“Then let us plan what I must ask,” Ralf said eagerly.
Eleanor began to sit, then changed her mind and walked to the table to pour herself a cup of ale. “Forgive me, Ralf, but there is information I learned from Father Etienne that I should have sent to you long before now. I fear the clerk’s death and the arrest of Sister Anne chased the news from my memory.”
The chamber door creaked open, and the prioress’ cat entered. Contemplating all in the assembled group, he chose to favor Gracia with his attentions and rubbed against her legs.
She knelt to pet him.
“On the journey here,” Eleanor said, “one of the soldiers assigned to protecting our guests was killed. The captain of the guard insisted that he was aware of the circumstances and would render the appropriate justice. No crowner or sheriff was called. Perhaps the captain was correct, but I believe you should know about this.”
Ralf raised an eyebrow.
“Father Etienne did not say if any soldier was punished or executed for the crime. He was more concerned about the health of his clerk.” She sipped her ale. “Nor have I concluded there is any link between that death and Jean’s. Nonetheless, I did not want you to remain in ignorance, lest there be some connection or error in failing to alert you to the crime.”
Indeed I should know, Ralf thought, recalling the badly scarred man who sat with him at Signy’s inn and exhibited a rare curiosity about the village and the priory. Conan had made him uneasy. Now he had more cause to investigate this guard captain further.
Chapter Seventeen
Davoir looked at Conan with contempt. “Why should I fear for the safety of my clerks or myself when the one who killed Jean is imprisoned?”
“She has not yet been found guilty, Father.” The pale light from the window only deepened the furrows and ridges of the captain’s scars.
“She shall be! If I can keep Prioress Eleanor and Brother Thomas away from the investigation into her guilt, the verdict against the nun will be fair and untainted. If necessary, I will insist the sub-infirmarian be taken from their undue influence to Fontevraud Abbey where my sister can render an objective judgement.”
A peculiar light flickered in Conan’s eyes. “You believe there is that much wickedness in this place consecrated to God? If you are so uneasy about the role of Satan in the priory, you should welcome my suggestion that I examine the security of these quarters.”
Davoir laughed. “You think your sword is strong enough to keep the Devil at bay? Who taught you about faith, soldier? It was no priest.”
Conan’s face became spotted as if he had a pox, but he said nothing.
“Father, may I express some thoughts in this matter?”
Sighing, the priest turned to his pale-faced clerk but barely hid his annoyance. “You have my permission, Renaud, but keep your speech brief.”
“The captain and his men have protected us from the moment we set foot in England. On the way here, no bandits attacked us. No harm came to us.” He waved his hand. “Other than that matter about the dead guard, but he was not of our…”
“Our safety was their purpose, my son.” The priest’s voice was rough with impatience. “Your meaning, if you please.”