‘What feud?’
‘Estrighoiel was a peaceful, happy town until a little more than two years ago, and we all liked Drogo de Hauteville, who was the constable. Then he “fell” over a cliff, and Satan’s spawn arrived very quickly to take his place. Immediately, things began to change. He has spies everywhere, even in the priory, and there is an atmosphere.. ’
‘Satan’s spawn?’
‘Walter de Clare — and his henchmen Revelle and Pigot. I would not be at all surprised to learn that they murdered Leger.’
‘Why would they pick on him? Did he speak out against them?’
‘He did not approve of them, certainly. And then there is Cadowan and his wife Nest. They wanted to buy Ivar’s sky-stone and were bitterly disappointed when he refused to sell.’
Geoffrey was confused. ‘What is a sky-stone?’
‘A piece of star that fell to earth in some godforsaken land to the north. Ivar brought it here, and it is said to be able to heal people.’
Geoffrey thought about what he had overheard at the market: Nest saved, but not Walter’s child. Was this why Walter and his men seemed to hate the priory? If so, it was unfair to pick on Leger. Why not Ivar, who owned the thing?
‘Where is it?’ he asked, wondering if it was in the church and if Leger had been struck down as someone attempted to make off with it.
Odo grimaced. ‘Ivar declines to say, despite my cajoling over the last two years — such a thing belongs in a shrine, not in whichever wretched hiding place he has chosen. But he maintains that God gave it to him, so he should decide its fate. It is difficult to argue with such conviction.’
‘So no one else knows where he has put it?’
‘No one. Ivar never leaves the priory these days, lest someone lays hold of him and tries to force him to tell. I do not blame him for being wary — Walter would tear him to pieces for failing to save Eleanor, while Cadowan and Nest are eager to own the stone.’
‘So these are your suspects for killing Leger? Walter and his men, and the town couple?’
Odo nodded. Geoffrey turned abruptly and walked back to the gate. It was sturdy and secured by two heavy bars that slotted into the wall on either side. Clearly, an intruder was not going to enter that way. Then he began to walk around the perimeter, and his heart sank. There were several places where an agile man could scramble across, and he saw that anyone could have invaded the monks’ domain and committed murder while Leger’s brethren slept.
‘What do you plan to do about this, Father Prior?’ he asked.
Odo shook his head slowly. ‘I do not know. We have barely had time to gather our thoughts.’
‘May I speak to the other monks?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Why?’ demanded Odo suspiciously. ‘None of us heard or saw anything amiss.’
‘Sometimes there are witnesses — they just do not know what they have seen.’
Odo stared at him. ‘Are you saying you intend to look into the matter on our behalf?’
‘On Hilde’s behalf,’ corrected Geoffrey.
‘Then thank you,’ said Odo. He gripped Geoffrey’s hand. ‘I shall take you to see my flock now, and you may ask them anything you please.’
Odo conducted Geoffrey to a refectory, where ten monks were sitting down to a meal. Lay brothers served them, and he saw that the Benedictines had carved a comfortable existence for themselves. Their habits were made of finest wool, although a concession to poverty was made in the simple wooden crosses that hung around their necks. The only exception was Brother Marcus, one of the pair Geoffrey had seen in the market, who sported a fine gold one.
Most of the monks were in their thirties or forties and seemed sleek and well fed. Geoffrey had been expecting older men, and it occurred to him that any of those now present would possess the strength to ram a knife between Leger’s shoulder blades, despite Odo’s contention that the killer was someone from outside.
One sat slightly apart from the others, and looked as if his life had been much harder than theirs. He had a shock of prematurely grey hair, and his skin was brown and wrinkled, as if he had spent many years out of doors. Although he was now stooped, his size and shape indicated that he had once been a formidable man. The knight saw tears glittering on his cheeks.
‘That is Ivar,’ murmured Odo. ‘He was a hermit in the woods for years before taking the cowl. Ivar and poor Leger were particular friends.’
‘Ivar?’ asked Geoffrey, regarding the man at the centre of such controversy with interest.
Odo narrowed his eyes. ‘Have you heard the horrible lies Walter has spread about him?’
‘I heard his magic stone failed to save Walter’s daughter.’
Odo waved a dismissive hand. ‘Ivar has explained that — the stone can cure but not raise from the dead. And poor Eleanor was dead long before Revelle dragged Ivar from his cave to tend her. But I was not referring to those lies. I was asking whether you had heard the others — about the bad things that have happened since Ivar decided to take the cowl.’
‘Not really.’
‘Poor crops, flooded rivers and now this suspiciously nice weather. But Walter and his creatures arrived at the same time that Ivar took his vows, so I believe they are responsible for our downturn in fortunes. They say Ivar has been seen worshipping the devil, but he is a monk now, so clearly they are lying.’
‘Do you think Walter killed Leger to give credence to their tales?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘The murder of Ivar’s friend would certainly damage his reputation further-’
‘It damages them,’ declared Odo fiercely. ‘I would not have believed they would stoop to such wickedness, but perhaps you are right. They will almost certainly say Ivar did it. And their spy will fabricate “evidence” to prove it.’
‘You have no idea about the identity of this spy?’
Odo suddenly looked old. ‘No. I have charged Brother Marcus to find out, because he is a dedicated and thorough man. His questions have seen him arrested and held prisoner at the castle on several occasions, but he has no answers yet.’
‘It seems a sorry state of affairs,’ mused Geoffrey. ‘Castle and Church bandying accusations back and forth like fishwives.’
Odo glowered. ‘They started it!’
‘Where does the town stand in this dispute?’
Odo’s glower intensified. ‘The sensible ones see we are the wronged party, but the lunatics support Walter and his villains.’
‘In other words, the feud is pulling the place apart.’
Odo continued to glare but made no other reply.
‘I had better ask my questions,’ said Geoffrey, wanting the case solved as quickly as possible. With such a bitter quarrel, it would not be wise to risk becoming embroiled in it.
‘We shall say a psalm first,’ said Odo piously. ‘And then a prayer. And then you may ask us anything you like.’
Geoffrey studied the monks as they stood and allowed their prior to lead them in their devotions. They sang lustily — with the exception of Ivar, who did not seem to know the words — and clearly enjoyed impressing their guest with their chanting. It confirmed Geoffrey’s initial impression: that the priory put great store in outward appearances. But what lay within?
‘Brother Leger thought someone was trying to kill him,’ said the large, amiable monk who had been addressed as Brother Aidan in the market. His companion, the hot-tempered Marcus, sat next to him. ‘We were disinclined to believe him, because we did not imagine for a moment that Walter and his henchmen would murder any of us.’
‘He hates us all,’ said Marcus, fingering his gold cross. ‘But I still refuse to accept that he stooped so low as to stab a monk in a church. I think Cadowan and Nest did it. They were probably looking for the sky-stone. Leger caught them, so they killed him.’
‘Did Leger see who threw the dagger at him earlier?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘Or who tampered with his food?’
‘Not that he told me,’ said Aidan. ‘And I questioned him about both incidents.’