Crowner's Dilemma - Part Twelve

[ismenin]

Hello, dear friends! I'm sorry I am so late posting thius, but I've been having a really good chat on the phone with a friend! YaY! Nice. Me likes friends.

I am now going to have a late afternoon snooze, so will answer all comments made in my two previous posts, later when I get up. :D

I hope there is no snow where you are, or if there is, it is bearable. In the Antipodes, another friend tells me the fire has cost many lives. God bless them all.

I hope this will take your mind off the world for a bit. It certainly does mine, wen I'm writing it.

So here we go...

Thank you, ladysunrope, for beta.


Part - 12


By the next morning, another of Matt's men, and two of the castle's kitchen maids fell sick, – all had had contact with the infected.

"Hell's teeth!" Elijah groaned. "It comes near to us all. Is there nothing we can do?" He felt helpless confronted with this faceless peril, but he knew in his heart there was no solution. It would pass - but when, and who it would take with it? That was something too dark to contemplate.

Matt was sitting in a chair by the fire, in the Hall, having declared he would stay no longer in bed. His legs were covered by a sheepskin rug, and there was a small table at his side, with some cordial upon it, that John insisted he drink a small dose every few hours. These were the only concessions he would make to his enfeebled state, but John had spoken apart with Wat, and he was keeping a keen eye on his master, to see that he did not exert himself.

"Will you send my men away, sir? Back into the woods?" Matt was afraid for his men, and could not bring himself to look at the duke. "I beg that you will not."

Elijah smiled. "My name is Elijah, please use it, as do my other friends here."

Matt nodded. "Thank you, Elijah. But will you - send them away?"

Wat, standing beside Matt's chair shuffled his feet, but said nothing. He was rapidly learning the ways of this duke, and he was growing to like them.

"Of course I will not send them away. If any more of them fall sick, how can they be tended outside these walls? This place can hold them," Elijah glanced at Dom, who was casting a reassuring look at his brother.

"They are best here. There is food, warmth and shelter. If any sick come to Beauvallet, they are right welcome."

Dom pressed his hand on Elijah's shoulder, as Matt thanked his host. "And those who are well? Are they welcome, too?"

John Barebone snorted. "They are fools if they wish to enter this place. No-one knows how this plague is spread. If I were well, I would not come within fifty miles of any plague house."

Matt looked up. "But you are well, John, are you not?"

John coughed, embarrassed, and reached for some wine. "Well, yes, but the case is different. It is my duty to tend the sick. I cannot abdicate from this responsibility as I choose. I have sworn to nurture, and to cure where I can, and this I will do, whatever comes to me."

"I would like to speak to my men, Elijah, if you will permit it. Is there a small room - somewhere private, that I can use?" Matt asked, hesitantly.

"I shall order them sent here. Dom and I have some business to attend to. You will be private enough, no-one will disturb you."

Dom cast a quizzical look at his lover, wondering what the business could be. He had no time to enquire further, for John had quickly drained his mazer and rose once more to go about his duties. It had seemed barely a moment since he had come for a brief rest.

"I must return to the sick. I give leave to tell you, Elijah, that Dame Rowenna is a fearful organiser. Already she has recruited teams of nurses to tend the sick, from those best able amongst your people. She assures me that you will pay them extra for their services. She said she had no need to ask you to sanction this expense. Does she know you that well?"

Elijah laughed, but then grew serious. "She knows me well, and she is right. No sum would be too large to reward those who walk into the valley of the shadow, unafraid."

***

Elijah and Dom walked outside near the bridge, already feeling confined by the atmosphere within Beauvallet itself. The drawbridge was raised, and, looking around him, Dom noticed the watcher Elijah had ordered to remain there in case of visitors, perched high on the battlements.

The trees on the other side of the lake were green and leafy. The sun warm, and the countryside about them was verdant and lush. It seemed ironic that such danger lay all about them, when all was so beautiful.

"I trust Ben and Red are well," Dom remarked, as they leant against the wall.

"I have ordered that we be told if they fall ill. I hope they will be safe and well there."

Dom sniffed. "But we have all been to the abbey, where there are now sick, and where two of Matt's men died. I pray the boys will be safe."

"We will go into the chapel, later, and pray for them," Elijah was looking over the side of the bridge at the fish darting about in the water. "The priest we had here has lately died, and it is to my shame that I have not found another to take his place, for you will have noticed, Dom, that many, in times of great need, turn to God. Even if before they scoffed at him, when danger threatens, he becomes their anchor. So it was at Outremer."

Dom turned to look into the water, wanting to put his arm around his lover, yet not daring to, in that open place.

"Tell me of Acre, Elijah. What happened there to give you such a sad expression when anyone talks of it? Will you tell me?"

Elijah moved a few feet away, out of the bright sunlight, and sat on a low wall, beckoning to Dom to sit beside him. "You know some of the details, Dom, I will not bore you with them. It was a great victory against the Infidel, as you have been told. Saladin was defeated, because all Christendom's forces united to defend the City of Jerusalem, and the Holy Land. Baldwin of Exeter was then Archbishop of Canterbury. Vincent was his successor."

Elijah breathed deeply, and Dom did not try to hurry Elijah to reveal his story. He knew there was something very amiss, but what it could be, he did not know.

"Food was scarce," Elijah continued, staring at his feet. "The water sources contaminated by human and animal corpses. The stink of death was everywhere. Saladin and his forces were routed, and he and Richard held meetings to talk terms, but Richard, hasty as always, wanted to leave to fight and conquer elsewhere, once the city was secured."

"Saladin made the first of three agreed payments - ransom for the prisoners Richard held at Acre. Richard was unhappy, he told me he felt that Saladin was deliberately withholding the other payments, and rejected Saladin's first offer because certain Christian prisoners were not delivered to him. Richard was furious. He thought Saladin was delaying because he was trying to regroup, and attack again. He would not countenance another view of it, even if he asked for the opinion of those close to him. He..."

Elijah wiped his face with his hands, and Dom saw, to his horror, that Elijah was weeping. "Richard had all the prisoners held at Acre - men, women, and - God forgive him, children, and infants - beheaded. Nearly three thousand of them, slaughtered in the sand of the desert, under my very window. Because he was not willing to feed them, or leave them, because he wanted to move on ... because Saladin had to know that he was Richard, and his command was all -and because he was the victor."

"Being sick of a fever I was not at the king's side, thanks be to God, but I had risen from my bed to see what was happening below. I stood on the battlements, and watched, heard the terrified screams and the supplications, the prayers and the wailing when all hope was gone, saw them try to run from the swords..... I have never before seen the like of it, and I pray I never will again. Even now the smell of blood takes me back to that day..."

"Richard lost my affection, then, not as king, but as a man. I loved him as a cousin, and as my closest friend. I never loved him as a lover should - as I have told you, I have loved only you - but, after that day...I could not lie with him...and he knew why, even if he did not ask me to explain."

Elijah took out a piece of embroidered lawn, and wiped his face again.

"Saladin was not blameless. He, too, killed many, many prisoners without thought, or pity. But...Richard's deed that day was barbarous. We left Acre soon after, thanks be to God, and engaged the Infidel at the Battle of Arsuf, where I was wounded. The wound was given to me by one of Saladin's sons, minutes before his father's defeat. I was glad of it, despite the pain, for I knew I could come home, and leave the murder of innocents to those who had a taste for it, for I did not.

They were still disputing the kingship of Jerusalem when I left for the ships. Such it is to be a leader of men. As for me, I prefer something...quieter. I think Richard knew it, too, in the end. That is why he invited me to accept the crowner's task. Hanging murderers is far more cleanly than slaughtering sobbing infants held in their mothers' arms...."

Dom was silent with shock. What could he say that would take this sorrow from his dear one's heart? What a burden to carry! He was just about to put a consoling arm about his companion's shoulder, regardless of who saw him, when a cry went up from the roof.

"A rider approaching, my lord duke!"

The men turned, and saw the rider draw up opposite the raised drawbridge, and clatter onto the stone where the bridge joined the bank. Neither Elijah nor Dom knew him; he seemed to be a servant, for he was wearing livery of some sort, but they could not tell for certain.

"A message from the Venerable Abbess, my lord," the man shouted across the space. "Or, at least, from the Infirmarer. The Abbess has taken the sickness. She wishes to speak with you. She is very restless, in her mind, the Infirmarer says. Will you come?"

Elijah called back. "I will come! Do you return and tell them. I shall follow close behind you."

The man bowed and rode off.

"I cannot see what harm it will do to go there, Dom, as long as I avoid anyone I might meet on the road. After all, the same sickness is in both places. What do you think?"

The men hurried into the bailey, and Elijah ordered a horse saddled, and Dom, smiling at Elijah, ordered another for himself. "You will not go alone. I shall come with you, whether you like it, or no."

Elijah patted Dom's arm. "Who am I to order your movements? You are a free man, and may go where you please." Then Elijah sent an ostler to the kitchens for a bottle of his finest aqua vitae, and ordered the drawbridge lowered.

***

They encountered no-one on the road, and as they rode into the abbey courtyard, and dismounted, they recognised the ostler, who was pale and red-eyed. On enquiry it was revealed that his companion in those duties, his brother, had died.

"...and three of the sisters, my lord. Sister Clotilde, from the sewing rooms, and two of the novices."

The man who had brought them the message was standing nearby. As if to explain his presence, he bowed, and spoke. "I am William of Norwich, your Grace. My master lies within, and is very sick. We were heading for Canterbury, for he was to meet somebody there. We had been visiting some weaving sheds, east of here, looking for better quality fine wool than we have..."

Elijah interrupted the man. "What is your master's name?"

The man bowed his head. "Messire Hugh de Bray, my lord duke."

"Is your master like to die?" Dom asked, softly, for the man was clearly distressed.

The servant sniffed. "Aye, so the Infirmarer says. And quite soon...I do not know how I shall tell the mistress..." The man ended on an anguished sob.

"Is he kept in the infirmary?" If he was that bad, they could not waste any time. There were questions to be answered.

"He is, my lord, yes."

Elijah clasped his hands together. "I will see him first, then."

They strode to the infirmary, where a sturdy nun stood at the door, well-muscled arms folded across her chest. "Ready to repel boarders," Dom whispered, as they approached. But when she saw who the visitors were, she stood aside.

"Where is Messire de Bray lying?" Elijah asked of the doorkeeper.

They had no difficulty in finding him. He had another servant sitting with him, a man who was dressed as a clerk, in deepest black, with the cap of that office pulled down far upon his forehead. He was - or seemed to be - praying, but his eyes, Dom noticed, darted everywhere.

They approached the bed. The sick man was not asleep, and Elijah ventured to address him. The clerk made as if to protest, but encountering Elijah's icy gaze, backed off, and stood against the wall.

"Messire de Bray, I am Elijah de Woode. I have come to see if you can describe to me Messire Corbald, for I think we have had him sick at the castle."

The sick man opened his eyes slightly. His chest was bubbling, as if filled with water, but he managed to speak in a strangled whisper, giving a fair description of the man they had so recently buried.

"Is he dead?" de Bray asked, through cracked lips. Elijah answered, quietly and simply, "he is. I am sorry," and offered him some watered mead from a cup standing on a stool nearby. The man swallowed it eagerly. He was parched with thirst.

Elijah looked with compassion upon the dying man. "Is there any thing I could do for you?" He had thought of offering the man some aqua vitae, but decided against it. "More...drink...thirst..." the man gasped, and as he drank, he died.

The little clerk hurried over. He cast a weary eye over his employer, but did not seem to be overly distressed at his passing. Elijah glanced at Dom, jerking his head slightly, and together they went to find the Abbess.

She lay in the side room where the two men had first encountered the body of Sister Odilla. Sister Aefre was there and rose from her stool as they entered.

Elijah gave her the bottle he had brought for his aunt, and looked down upon the sick woman. She lay quiet, enveloped in white linen even in her sickness, her head covered by a cloth that fastened tightly under her chin. Sister Aefre gestured at the stool, and Elijah sat. "Aunt," he said, his voice low, "you wished to see me?"

The eyelids rose as if it took the strength of Heracles to lift them. "Ah, nephew! I am glad you came. I did not think you would be in any more danger than you have already been, as you have encountered the sick before today."

Her voice was husky, and weak, but clear. Her chest was not as congested as had been Matt's, Corbald's, and de Bray's, but she was sweating profusely, the signs clearly visible on the sheets.

"How may I aid you, aunt?" Elijah's voice was not quite steady, for in her weakened state Gertruda looked very like her brother, Elijah's father.

"You cannot aid me, nephew, only God can help me, now. I wished to see your face, that is all." She put out her hand, and Elijah grasped it, gently. "...so like your dear, dear father's..." the abbess murmured, before falling asleep.

Elijah stayed beside her for some time, until Sister Aefre asked him to leave, so that she could minister to the abbesses needs.
The two men went out into the fresh air, and sat under a tree for several minutes.

"It seemed to me she cares for you, Elijah. It is a thousand pities she did not show you this affection in your childhood," Dom murmured, as Elijah raised his face to the sun's warmth.

"In her own way, I expect she thought she did. I remember my father saying that Aunt Gertruda behaved towards me, after my mother died, in the same way as they were both treated as children. It was, he said, the only way she knew to discipline children. Theirs must have been a joyless upbringing, I have always thought."

Dom did not trust himself to speak, but, looked about him, and as there was no-one near, quickly took Elijah's hand, and kissed it.

"How did your parents behave towards you and Matt, Dom? Were they kind?"

"Very kind, and loving," was all the answer Dom felt equal to giving. He thought of Elijah, a small boy whose mother had lately died, being made to lie, sick in bed, with the window open, and snow falling upon his shivering little body. He could not trust himself to speak of the Abbess Gertruda. Heaven forgive her, if it can, he raged inwardly, for I cannot!

"Do not feel too sorry for me, my love. The castle is large - I was often able to hide in it - and I had my Wenna to console me, after all," Elijah said, noting Dom's expression. "Before we leave this place, let us go to see for ourselves the second carving. I am not equal to interviewing today, so my questioning must wait a more convenient time. It may be that we will find something St Aubin and his men have missed."

Before they had the opportunity to cross the stream, the little clerk came out into the sunlight, and Elijah wasted no time in getting from him directions to Corbald's home.

"I will send a fast rider, Dom. The family must know what has come to him, and be prepared for the sickness to fall upon them, if it has not already done so."

As they forded the stream, Elijah ventured to ask a question that had been bothering him for some days. If Dom was of the same mind, it would make it easier to broach the subject. He moved carefully around the problem.

"Can you think of anyone else who might have wished Odilla dead? Someone outside the abbey?"

Dom smiled. He was beginning to know Elijah's mind. "Do you mean Wat? After all, one would have to be both blind and deaf not to see how much he loves Matt. Are you thinking, perhaps, he killed the girl in a jealous rage?"

Elijah stopped, and thought for a moment. He was feeling the heat, and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "It has occurred to me, yes, I admit it. But I am far from certain that he is a serious suspect, although we can afford to rule no-one out at this juncture."

"Why do you think so? I find the workings of your mind a fascinating study, your Grace. Enlighten me, I beg."

Elijah leaned against the bole of a tree, as his legs were aching, and looked at his lover with an intensity that made Dom blush.

"Because I believe Wat truly loves Matt. It is not mere infatuation. If he truly loves him, as I love you, he would want Matt's happiness above all other considerations. I have come to realise that in the past few days. He would want Matt to be happy at the expense of his own feelings."

Dom grabbed Elijah's arm, and, dragging him behind a thick oak, kissed him passionately. "My Amiloun! Do not tempt me to beg you, on my knees, to take me here - for I love you in that fashion, God be my judge!" and he kissed him, again.

They parted reluctantly. "We cannot be seen to enter the abbey courtyard covered in grass stains and leaves, my love," Elijah said, ruefully, pushing Dom away.

Dom rearranged his clothing with a scowl. "I will be glad when it is night. Come! Let us look for the damned carvings!"

They did not have far to look. On the next tree to the Odilla carvings, clear and new, were the others. MM + C.

"Do you think it is by the same hand?" Dom asked, peering back and forth between the two sets of initials.

Elijah nodded. "I do. Look how the last downstroke on the M's is longer than the others, on both sets. It seems carvings might hold some of the same characteristics as handwriting. Vincent, for example, writes an illegible hand. He always has his scribe to write his letters, unless, of course, they are private - as was his one to me concerning St Aubin."

Dom laughed. "I noticed it! 'A dead spider has fallen into the ink-horn', I thought, 'and come out drunk.'"

There was nothing else to see, so they returned to the courtyard, and called for their horses. De Bray's servant was not there, and the men had assumed he was inside with his late master, or in the chapel, praying for his soul.

Before they left, Sister Aefre came out, and told Elijah that the abbess was sleeping comfortably, now. "It seems your visit has brought her some peace, my lord. I am glad of it. Her life is not easy," she said, sadly.

Elijah smiled, and offered the sister a few suitable words. Then he asked, as if as an afterthought - "I have not seen Sister Wilda about the infirmary, Sister. Is she not well?"

Aefre's brow clouded over. "Sister Wilda is at present still in Canterbury. She would not come back with us, for some reason. Her mind seems...disordered, and she cannot sleep. I left her there with one of the sisters, in the priest's manse. It seemed best. Why, did you wish to see her?"

Elijah quickly disclaimed. "No, no, a trifling question I have concerning Odilla, that is all..." he said as calmly as he could, his face a careful mask of indifference.

"Do let me know if I can help you in any way," she replied, staring coolly at the two men. "I would be glad to be of service to you." Her face was as devoid of expression as theirs had been, but her eyes seemed to be harbouring secrets.

Elijah shivered. A sudden chill seemed to overcome him.

They rode out onto the road, giving a passing wagon and its driver a wide berth, in case of passing on any contagion, for no-one knew how these things travelled about. It was best to be safe.

Elijah unclasped the neck of his tunic. "It is much warmer today than it was yesterday," he observed as they rode up the lane. "I will be glad of some wine, Dom. Astin usually has a few bottles cooling in the well at this season. It makes a pleasant drink in the heat."

The drawbridge was up, and the look-out called down for the men to lower the bridge for the duke was come home, and soon they were riding into the bailey. As they dismounted, they were surprised to see Astin hurrying towards them. Then he stopped and bent his head as if not knowing what to say.

Elijah stared at him. "What is it, man? Out with it. What has happened to render you so tongue-tied?"

Astin took in a deep breath. There was only one way in which to impart such news as he had - quickly and simply. He looked up and both Elijah and Dom gasped aloud at his grief ravaged face.

"My lord, it is with great sorrow I have to tell you that Dame Rowenna is dead."