“Did not the Church demand penance of the man for betraying the confessional?”
“Aye. He was required to make a pilgrimage to Compostela, which he did, but has since returned. He is to serve as assistant to the almoner at St Nicholas’s Priory, in Exeter.”
“You believe this priest murdered the fellow found hanged?”
“Aye. The dead man’s brother was first entangled in the blackmail, and was found dead from an arrow in the back when I was near to discovering the felony. ’Tis my belief this priest slew him to avoid his sins being exposed.”
“An evil man, this false priest,” the monk concluded.
Arthur and Uctred had overheard this conversation while gazing out over the town and abbey below. Now Arthur spoke: “John Kellet was always a good man with a longbow. Master Hugh couldn’t prove ’e’d put the arrow in Henry atte Bridge’s back, but who else would do so?”
“Kellet?” Brother Alnett turned to me with raised brows. “The priest was named Kellet?”
“Aye. John Kellet.”
“He stayed three days here… no, ’twas four. I would not have thought him strong enough to draw a bow. He was near to collapse from hunger when he came to us.”
“How long past was this?” I asked.
“Three weeks, thereabouts. Said he was bound for Exeter. Didn’t say why. I bade him stay ’til his strength was renewed for the journey. I could not see him plainly, of course, but brother infirmarer said he was gaunt and wore a hair shirt. A holy man, we took him for.”
This report troubled me. Was John Kellet so able an actor that he could take a man’s life but appear pious to both Father Simon and the monks of Glastonbury Abbey?
Early next morn Brother Alnett bid me farewell and required of me a promise that I would visit the abbey again upon my return from Exeter to treat his other eye. The sun that day was warm in our faces as we traveled southward. Robins and jackdaws flitted across our way, and high above carrion crows perched in the uppermost branches of trees. From such lofty roost they watched for songbirds, and when they saw a smaller bird seeking its home they flapped from their place to swoop down and plunder the nest. Must it always be thus, that the strong take what they will from the weak? It is my duty as bailiff to see it is not so, but many who hold such a post as mine in service to great lords are much like the crows. The carrion crows do but what is their nature. Is such conduct men’s nature also? It must be so, else why must the Lord Christ die for our sins? I must seek Master Wyclif and hear his opinion.
Arthur, Uctred, and I sought lodging that night in Taunton, and departed next day with multiple companions, for the inn was verminous.
Chapter 8
We reached Exeter late in the second day after leaving Glastonbury, as the sacrist rang the church bell to call the monks to vespers. St Nicholas’s Priory is not so grand as Glastonbury Abbey. The latter soars over a majestic cloister, whereas at the priory a squat church presides over a mean, unadorned cloister. If the object of monastic life be to live in simplicity and humility before God, surely the brothers at St Nicholas’s have an advantage over those at Glastonbury.
The hosteller at the priory is young to be a guest-master. He showed us to a chamber in the priory’s west range, sent for a lay brother to care for our beasts, and spoke never a word otherwise. So I was not required to announce the reason for our visit and decided to await the new day before I approached the prior to seek permission to examine John Kellet.
Prior Jocelyn Ludlow was unavailable or unwilling to grant me audience next morn ’til after terce was sung. But the sun was warm against the stones of the guest hall, so sitting there upon a bench was a pleasant diversion. It was near time for dinner before a monk of the house announced that the prior would see me.
Jocelyn Ludlow is a gaunt, narrow-faced man. But for a different name I might have assumed him kin to the abbot of Glastonbury Abbey. His thin, pointed skull rises hatchet-like from his tonsure. This is balanced by an equally sharp nose, about which I will say little, for it is remarkably like my own. His deep-set eyes scanned me from head to toe when I was shown to his chamber. I felt as if he discerned my mission before I announced it.
I introduced myself and my task. When I was done silence followed, for the prior was speechless. I soon discovered the reason.
“John Kellet’s past is known to me,” he finally said. “The bishop told me of his felonies many months past. I expected a reprobate, but when the man arrived a fortnight past I found an ascetic.”
“Does his work please the almoner?”
“Entirely. Too much so. Kellet is not willing to wait for the poor to appeal to the priory for aid. He goes into the town streets to seek them out, then returns with a multitude following. The infirmary is bursting with those he has found ill, and the infirmarer has near exhausted his supply of herbs and remedies. Brother almoner is at his wits’ end for fear funds will be depleted. How will the priory then aid the poor? But Kellet will not desist. I do not know,” the prior sighed, “what I am to do with the man. This is not a wealthy house. He seems bent on bankrupting the priory in the name of God’s work.”
“Kellet was once a fleshy man,” I said. “I am told he is no longer.”
Prior Ludlow’s eyes widened at this statement. “Nay,” he said. “He is all skin and bones and seems likely to blow away does a strong autumn wind come from the sea.”
“He was once skilled with a longbow. I saw him place eleven of twelve arrows in a butt from a hundred paces.”
“Don’t know if the man could lift a longbow now, much less draw and loose an arrow.”
“You think my mission foolish, then?”
The prior pursed his lips and thought for a moment before he replied. “I am not competent in the ways of murderers, as a bailiff might be, but John Kellet seems not capable of what even the bishop told me of his crimes.”
The prior told me where I might find the almoner and I set off for the chamber. This was not difficult to discover, for St Nicholas’s Priory is not large. I hoped I might find Kellet in company with the almoner but was disappointed. A pale, round-faced monk peered up from examining a book as I entered his chamber. He was alone. As I approached the fellow I saw that he was inspecting an account book. He did not seem pleased.
“You are Brother William, the almoner?”
“Aye.” The monk stood and examined me for sign that I required alms from the priory. He seemed perplexed that an apparently prosperous visitor sought him. I relieved his confusion.
“I wish to speak to you of your new assistant.”
“John Kellet? He is not within.”
I could see that. “I will speak to him later. I would have some conversation with you now. I am Hugh de Singleton.”
“Very well,” the monk shrugged, and waved his hand to a bench. When I sat upon it the almoner resumed his place at his table. “Kellet has served here little more than a fortnight. I do not know him well. What is it you would know?”
“Do you know why he is here?”
“Aye. Brother Prior told me of his misdeeds. Is it of this you would know?”
“I know of his offenses. I am bailiff to Lord Gilbert Talbot on his Bampton Manor. I discovered Kellet’s felonies.”
“Then you are the reason he was sent to Compostela on pilgrimage.”
“Nay. Kellet’s own deeds are the reason his pilgrimage was required. I was but discoverer of his misconduct. No doubt he harbors resentment of me for finding out his sins.”
Brother William’s brow furrowed. “Not so,” he replied. “Kellet told me all, and said ’twas well his crimes were found out, else he would likely have continued in his sins and mayhap died with them unshriven.”