Gebmund found his voice ‘Brother Aelric — My Lord Alaric: whatever it most pleases you to be called,’ he cried in gentle panic. ‘It has been brought to His Majesty’s notice that you have information affecting the welfare of his kingdom. In the Church, or out of the Church, I really like to think of us all as one big happy family. We’ve come here in a spirit of loving concern to see how we can resolve any issues that might otherwise draw us into a more confrontational relationship. I — we. .’ He trailed off and looked miserably at the floor.
I’d been wondering when I’d get the representatives of church and state suing for peace. There’s a time for subtle diplomacy, and a time for bluntness. Time, obviously, for the latter. ‘I can prove,’ I said, ‘that, behind his show of holiness, our late Cousin Sophronius was up to his neck in a scam that could get the two of you run out of Kent.’ I stopped and waited for Gebmund to take his hands from over his ears. ‘For the past three years, he paid regular visits from Rome to Canterbury. Each time, he selected seven of the prettiest boys he could find and promised their parents a life for them in one of the papal choirs. However, he was packing them off to Spain for castration and sale to dealers who’d then sell them on to the Saracens. Instead of singing chaste hymns of praise to Christ and the Virgin, those who didn’t die from the operation and of other causes have been performing lewd dances for the unbelievers, and having their mouths and bottoms used for various modes of sinful gratification.’
I stopped again and waited for the full horror to sink in. ‘I won’t claim that either of you knew about this, or that you were on the take. But it’s a sure thing that you never asked Sophronius for news of the boys he was rounding up. Equally for sure, none of the parents has ever heard from their little ones. I was thinking to blurt all this out in the first sitting of the inquiry. I hope you’ll agree that the submission I did make was far less unhelpful to your continued enjoyment of your cushy places in life.’
I’ll tell you now, Dear Reader, in strictest confidence, I wasn’t able to prove any of this. But I’d picked up a few stray facts from Jeremy’s nightly reports, and had put an easy two and two together. I think I’d made them into neither five nor three.
‘Have you told this to anyone?’ Aelfwine asked. He looked thoughtfully at the pillow on my bed.
‘No, my pretty young cousin,’ I said at once. ‘But, if you’re thinking to bump me off, it will inevitably spread once I’m not here to control the flow of information. So why don’t we agree, as members of one big happy family, on the findings and recommendations that Gebmund will announce in the next — and closing — session of his inquiry? And the less attention you both pay to Theodore from now on, the better I think it will be for all of us.’
I won’t bore you with how things continued. You can fill in the gaps for yourself.
I couldn’t know it, but Theodore had another seizure that night. According to what I got out of Wulfric, it came on about the same time as Aelfwine was sending Ambrose off in search of something for us to drink to happy families. You can’t fault his attention to duty, however. Soon after lunch the following day, he sent for me again.
Worn out from the excitements of my own life, I limped into the room and sat beside him. ‘Oh, this is awful, Theodore,’ I cried, feeling almost as saddened as I was trying to sound. ‘Not another one, and so soon after the last! If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word. You’re all I have left from the old days. We’ve had our differences, I know. Perhaps I have myself not been wholly without fault in our dealings. But let’s put these behind us and try to think of the good things that remain in our lives.’
He opened his eyes. I thought for a moment he didn’t recognise me. But he was only gathering what he had left of his strength. ‘Gebmund came to see me this morning,’ he said faintly in Latin. ‘He explained that you’ve beaten me. You’ve always beaten me. You’ve always taken what was mine. You only let me win the Monothelite dispute when you no longer found it politically convenient to keep the Empire immured in the darkness of heresy. You have been the cloud that darkened my life.’
I snorted so loudly, I had to struggle with my teeth. Of all the passions, resentment is the most enduring. Love — even hatred — will often fade with time. Not so resentment. If his face hadn’t been twisted into a snarl that reminded me of dead Sophronius, I’d have felt sorry for him. As it was, I gave up on the mockery.
‘Theodore,’ I said, leaning forward and speaking into his ear, ‘you made yourself unhappy. Worse than that, you’ve spent a lifetime trying to make everyone else unhappy.’ I thought myself into the distant past. Yes, it was still in my head. I quoted:
O God of Love, who governs all
With unimagined power;
Who sets the autumn leaves to fall
And wither every flower -
Dear Lord, this humble praise accept,
By us, Thy children, given,
And, in return, bless all — except
Who lack a place in Heaven.
Let in everlasting torments
Suffer, Lord, who give offence,
And us, Thy chosen instruments,
Give ever, Lord, thy preference.
‘You wrote that for me when you were twelve,’ I said. ‘There’s more of it, and it gets worse. I should have seen then what a rotter you’d turn out. Don’t blame me for the long shipwreck of your life. You chose your path. Don’t blame me if it didn’t lead to a bed of roses.’
‘You lie, Alaric!’ he sobbed. ‘I was happy till you took hold of me, and tempted me with the filthiness of your corruptions. I know you think you’ve beaten me. But you’ll see that I win at last.’
He closed his eyes for another rest. As ever, I thought he’d nodded off. But just as I was about to get up and leave, he came back to life. ‘Bring it here, Wulfric,’ he whispered in English. I perked up. This was interesting. I’d always assumed that what was lost in a seizure was destroyed. I now realised that the human mind was rather like a library. All that a seizure might do was to alter the catalogue — wiping, and sometimes restoring, entries and groups of entries.
I was still thinking that one over, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. It was Wulfric with a bag of something heavy. I took it from him, and stared at the elaborate knots securing it.
‘No, Alaric,’ Theodore urged. ‘Don’t look now. It’s a present for you. Call it a reminder from the old days when we were together.’ He tried to laugh. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve had not a single day of happiness since I was thirteen. Now it’s your turn to suffer. You know that you can’t give it back to me. The rules don’t allow that.’ He looked away from me and focused on the stained ceiling. ‘Leave me, Alaric. I won’t let you come here again. But enjoy the rest of your life. You deserve it.’ He did now manage to laugh — a grating, wheezing sound that shook even those parts of his body that no longer moved at his command.
One thing I’ve learned to recognise over the years is when I’m really not welcome. I was out of that room as quickly as I could put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t open the bag until Ambrose had locked me into my room.
And that’s the end of the story. I’m now in the Saint Anastasius Monastery. I can go where I will, when I will. Brother Ambrose died the night after I’d finally moved out of his care. Even at a distance of two hundred yards, and through several walls, he kept me awake with his dying shrieks. I didn’t attend the funeral. I’m told his replacement as clerical jailor is a man from Ireland who believes in reforming his charges though prayer and exercise.