“Where is he?” she asked.
“Toki was buried this morning.”
“May I see the place?”
“Of course.”
“Will they be watching the grave to see who visits it?”
“I think not.”
“How can I be sure?”
“I will take you there myself.”
“Why are you being so kind to me?”
Gervase could find no answer.
CHAPTER SIX
With an armed escort to clear a way through the crowd for them, Canon Hubert and Brother Simon walked towards York Minster with a sense of profound satisfaction. It had been a productive day. Many disputes had been settled and much land, albeit in small amounts, had been reassigned to its rightful owners. Some people had been foolish enough to try to give false evidence but Hubert exposed them ruthlessly with the help of Tanchelm of Ghent. The two men had complementary virtues. As a team, they were shrewd, effective and totally impervious to corruption. Canon Hubert was increasingly grateful that he had accepted the Fleming as his judicial partner.
Another decision was also most pleasing in retrospect.
“I was right to insist on lodging apart from the others,” said Hubert.
“We belong on consecrated ground.”
Brother Simon shivered. “To stay at the castle would have been an ordeal.”
“I could never have tolerated those lions.”
“The female presence would have been more disturbing to me, Canon Hubert. At least the lions are male.”
“But wild and ferocious, by all accounts.”
“It is in their nature. They have no control over their brutish inclination. A civilised man should.”
“You speak of my lord Ralph?”
“I think you know my feelings on that subject.”
“I share them, Brother Simon.”
“Then I will say no more.”
“Please do. Give vent to your thoughts.”
“I am not sure that it is my place to do so. I mean no disrespect to my lord Ralph. In many ways, he is worthy of admiration.” Simon drew in his breath. “In this instance, he most certainly is not.”
“I have endeavoured to make that clear to him.”
“What was his answer, Canon Hubert?”
“Modesty forbids me from repeating such foul language.”
“The lady is not his wife!” hissed Simon in alarm. “Yet he consorts openly with her. Since we ride with them, we will be seen as condoning their sinful behaviour. But I most assuredly do not condone it.”
“No more do I. It offends me to the marrow.”
“The woman is … the woman is …”
“Do not be afraid to say the word, Brother Simon.”
“His concubine!”
“Quite so,” said Hubert. “She travels with him for one purpose only and that is to offer him delights of the flesh more proper to the state of holy matrimony, and then only in pursuit of lawful procreation.”
“It is shameful to look on such concupiscence.”
“Turn your gaze inward. Contemplate a pure soul.”
“I call the advice of Peter Damiani to my aid.”
“A wise teacher.”
“His words are ever a comfort. ‘Who, therefore, as a monk hastens to attain perfection, let him confine himself within the walls of a cloister, let him love spiritual quiet, let him have a horror of running about in the world, as he would of immersing himself in a pool of blood.’ When I see my lord Ralph and the lady together, I see a pool of blood beckoning to me.”
“Peter Damiani had more to say,” reminded Hubert. “And it is relevant to us. ‘For the world is more and more every day polluted by the contaminations of so many crimes that the holy mind is corrupted by the merest consideration of it.’ Forced to look on sin, we are stained ourselves.”
“I fear me that we are!”
The discussion brought them close to the minster, but a bulky figure in a black cowl was now blocking their way. Recognising Brother Francis, they paused to exchange greetings. He smiled benignly at them.
“Are your deliberations concluded for the day?”
“They are,” said Hubert complacently. “What of our fellow commissioners? Do they no longer require a scribe?”
“I have just been sent for once more.”
“Then we will not delay you, Brother Francis.”
“It is interesting work,” said the other, “but I would much rather break bread with you in the refectory. I have no taste for secular matters.”
“We have just been saying the same,” boomed Hubert. “Brother Simon and I venerate the monastic ideal-sobriety, humility, patience, obedience, chastity, charity.”
“And the greatest of these is chastity,” added Simon.
“We are all of one mind,” said Francis.
After polite farewells, they parted company. Canon Hubert and Brother Simon moved nearer to their God with measured tread. Neither of them saw the contented smile on the face of Brother Francis as he strode with enthusiasm towards another session with the commissioners. When he turned the corner, he positively skipped along the street.
Gervase Bret was in a quandary. How much should he tell Ralph Delchard and how much keep from him? They were close friends as well as colleagues and he ordinarily confided everything in him. Now it was different. Ralph had a right to know the name of the man who was devoured by the two lions but Gervase could not divulge it without betraying Inga. He had given her his word. At that moment, for reasons he only vaguely understood, his promise to her took precedence over his obligation to Ralph.
There was an allied fear. If he disclosed the identity of the intruder to Ralph, the latter would feel duty-bound to pass it on to Aubrey Maminot. He could hardly enjoy his friend’s hospitality while keeping such a valuable piece of information from him. Once in possession of the name of Toki, the castellan would set in motion an investigation that would surely lead to Inga and her mother. Though the women knew nothing of Toki’s visit to the castle, they would come under grave suspicion and be hounded by Aubrey. Their credibility would be destroyed and their dispute with Nigel Arbarbonel would crumble.
Gervase was not bound to his host by any ties of friendship. Grateful for the accommodation, he had seen enough of the genial Aubrey to be wary of arousing his ire. Romulus and Remus were a lethal pair of pets. A man who took such pleasure in the way they had eaten a human being alive should not be unleashed on two defenceless women.
Gervase resolved to keep his own counsel. There were many things he needed to find out about Toki before he passed on the name to anybody.
His meditations were curtailed by the arrival of Ralph Delchard, who marched into the room with four of his men-at-arms. Brother Francis came close on their heels and took his place behind the table.
Gervase began to leaf once more through the documents supplied by Nigel Arbarbonel.
Ralph was in a characteristically jocular mood. As he took his seat between the two men, he leaned over to whisper in Gervase’s ear.
“Where is she?”
“Who?” said Gervase.
“You know quite well. Where have you hidden her?”
“Inga is no longer here, Ralph.”
“But she was?”
“Very briefly.”
“It only takes a moment for love to blossom.”
“Brunn the Priest was with her,” said Gervase, trying to sound calm.
“They came for advice.”
“As long as they did not try to bribe you.”
“There was no question of that. I told them that I could not violate my independence by discussing their case. What I did Stress-as I told you I would-was the need for documentary evidence. I warned them that they did not have unlimited time in which to produce it.”
“And that was all?”
“That was all.”
Ralph became serious. “I don’t need to tell you of the dangers of being influenced by pleas from any witnesses.”