Eleanor leaned forward. “Why did you not mention this before?”
“Because the lad recognized neither of them. When I asked for details, all he could say was that one was fat and the other not.” The crowner shrugged.
Gytha looked relieved. “They were not local men if he could not identify either.”
Eleanor wondered if local included the priory. Had Gytha heard about the quarrel between Otes and Andrew? Although Brother Beorn was not one to gossip, she did not know if anyone else had witnessed the argument and failed to tell her, choosing to whisper the news about instead. Must she seek out these witnesses, question them, and demand prudence in their speech until this murder could be solved? The Prioress of Tyndal was not pleased with the possibility.
“More likely he could not see them well enough,” Ralf said.
Gytha shook her head. “If he was able to determine that one was larger than the other, he might have been able to see enough to judge if they were from the village.”
“Did he hear any of the argument?” Although Eleanor knew a child’s word would have little weight against that of a man, she hoped Nute’s story might at least help them find the killer. Getting the murderer to confess was a problem to worry about after capture.
Ralf thought for a moment. “He did say that the fat one, presumably the baron, asked the other where the man was that they were supposed to meet. An instant before the baron was killed, Nute did hear him exclaim ‘Impossible’.”
“Right away, as if there were a connection between word and deed?”
“I fear I did not pursue details. Signy thought Nute had endured enough questioning from me, and the boy was getting restless.”
The prioress nodded. Considering the baron’s reputation for greed, there was nothing surprising about the killer successfully luring him away from Tyndal with some promise of gain. The details of that bait might not be especially important, but she did wonder if there was any significance in the word uttered by Otes just before he was killed. Was it important that Nute remembered only that and nothing else? Or was it the only word spoken loud enough for him to hear?
“Is Nute still too frightened to give further details?” Eleanor hoped there might be far more to learn.
“Signy promised to draw them out, should the lad seem willing to talk more.” Taking another large chunk of cheese from the platter, the crowner bit off a mouthful and chewed with the contentment reminiscent of some benign bull.
Eleanor decided she was exaggerating the importance of the coincidence between word and act. And, if there was more to learn from Nute, Signy would gently pursue the questioning, telling Ralf the result if there was anything of note.
As the crowner ate, she debated whether she should share one particular confidence with him. If she did, she was in danger of implicating Father Eliduc. If she did not, she might permit someone of secular rank to be ignored. Surely Ralf would honor the right of the Church to deal with him if the evidence did lead to the priest. She did not want a man subject to the king’s law to escape justice.
When Baron Otes suggested a high ranking churchman was interested in the land grant, he might have lied. By suggesting this, his intent may have been to provoke in her an ambition to improve the wealth of her priory over that of others, a ploy that almost succeeded. If he had lied, the person hoping for this gift might be a man with a secular title. As long as Otes accomplished whatever he wanted, truthfulness did not matter. When it came to the question of murder, truth did.
“An odd thing happened just before the baron died,” she said. “I am not sure if it has any relevance, but you should know of it.”
His mouth too full to speak, Ralf nodded.
“Baron Otes came to me with an offer of land. He had some benefit to himself in mind, a price I did not wish to pay. He claimed the land was valuable. I did wonder if he had made the same offer elsewhere.”
The crowner looked puzzled. “What did he want in exchange?”
“Unless it becomes necessary, I would rather not explain beyond saying he wanted reprisal against one for whom he felt some hatred.”
“My lady, you must know I now suspect that man is one of your religious. Will you tell me if he had cause to kill the baron?”
“I believe the person to be innocent of any such crime, and I must be the arbiter here in Tyndal, as you well know.” She softened her words with a smile. “Ralf, I would not let you continue hunting a killer if I thought I had the perpetrator under my rule.”
Although he looked unhappy, he nodded agreement.
Eleanor was relieved. Not only had he respected her judgement on the matter, he had proven he would honor the Church’s right to discipline its own wrongdoers.
“If Baron Otes tried to use that land as a bribe to someone else and failed, I have not heard any rumors. All that means nothing,” the crowner said. “I am neither at court nor privy to such matters.”
“I am aware of his reputation. He gained wealth primarily by threatening to reveal damaging secrets,” Eleanor said. “That is why I thought his desire to actually pay for retribution was unusual.”
“Perhaps he hoped to increase what he could get in return for the gift by playing one against another.” He shifted on the stool with evident impatience.
“When he said another was interested, he avoided the mention of any name,” she replied. All she wanted Ralf to do was pursue secular leads and so chose not to mention Eliduc’s interest in the gift. Nor did she say that Otes had spoken of how much he hoped to gain for his soul with the grant, hinting that the leader of a prominent abbey might have been the other party.
The crowner grunted.
“I think you have better sources than I to discover who was wealthy enough to be interested in valuable land and able to offer Baron Otes enough in return, Ralf.”
And should he find some link between Father Eliduc, or rather his liege lord, and the baron, the discovery would force kings and bishops to strive together for resolution and her own priory would remain safe from the power struggles of the mighty. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had been very wise to refuse a gift that might well have been even more venomous than she had first believed.
His brow deeply furrowed, Ralf rose. “I will investigate further, my lady,” he muttered, then quickly bowed and raced from the chambers.
Eleanor and her maid looked at each other with mild surprise. The crowner had left with uncharacteristic abruptness, without even his usual jest to Gytha or a promise to return after he got more information.
Considering the matter with more care, the prioress realized he had grown uneasy after the mention of what Otes had offered her. Might he have kept some secrets to himself, just as she had over the matter of her prior, the priest, and that land grant?
Chapter Twenty-six
As they strolled along the path from the chapel to the guest lodging, Eliduc stole a look at the Lady Avelina. Her expression was too sad for such a bright day. Stopping, he bent over a yellow wild flower, as if admiring its simple beauty. “Do you remain troubled in spirit?”
Her hands, modestly folded against her waist, began to twist and intertwine with nervous distress. “Although I should not be, the turmoil does continue.”
Plucking the flower out of the ground, he straightened and continued to study the delicate color in the petals. “Simon is with the local hermit.” He turned to look at her. “That he has stayed with the holy man this long, speaks well for your son. Methinks he wishes a better understanding of God’s desires. Although his longing may be recently discovered, our Lord must be pleased.”
“Is it sinful of me to doubt that my son has found a deeper faith?”
“I cannot imagine what other reason he would have to choose the hermit’s company.” Bringing the flower closer to his eyes, he touched one petal with the tip of a finger. Lacking moisture to sustain it in the heat, the flower was beginning to wilt. He frowned.