The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery

by Sharan Newman

“Does he have the palsy?” Brother Martin asked Brother James. “I don’t want to risk my life on the skill of someone who shakes.”

  “I’d rather that than trust it to this man,” James said sourly. “He’s telling his friends to be ready to attack us if he doesn’t like the taste of our money.”

  Jehan leaned down to speak to the ferryman. Their voices were too low for the others to hear. However, when they had finished, the man was grinning again so broadly that the black stumps of his upper molars were visible.

  Jehan drew several small coins from his purse and gave them to the man.

  “You get the rest when we are safely across,” he reminded the man. “Berengar, you go first. Then the monks, then Guy.”

  Berengar had been at the rear, talking to Arnald. He had observed the haggling without much interest. That was something traders did. It wasn’t until he reached the river bank that he saw what was to take him and his horse across the swift river.

  “You must be mad!” he cried. “That’s no more than a hollowed log!”

  “It’s carried better men than you!” the ferryman retorted. “Why a few years ago the abbot of Cluny was my passenger. He told me he had never felt so safe, just like in his mother’s arms. There was even room for his little white mule.”

  “Where? On his lap?” Berengar turned to Jehan. “You can’t mean us to pay money for the chance to drown?”

  “It’s this or turn back,” Jehan told him. “Get in the boat. Put your horse on the lead and tie it to your wrist. He’ll swim behind. Go on, do you want the others to think you hide a curling tail in your brais?”

  “I’m not a coward!” Berengar said. But he made no move toward the ferry.

  “Let me go first,” Brother Martin said. “If it will hold me, then the rest of you should have no trouble.”

  “No, you need someone to guard you on the other side.” Jehan shook his head at Berengar. “Who knows how many thieves are hiding there.”

  “Guy! Our young nobleman is afraid of the water,” he called.

  Guy sighed. “I’ll go first if he won’t,” he said. “Anyone want to wager that Berengar ends up in the river?”

  “I’ll take that,” the ferryman said.

  “No, you won’t,” Jehan snapped. “Berengar, hurry. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

  Berengar was white with terror but, in the end, he preferred losing his life to his reputation.

  With many grumblings, the other guards and the monks were taken across. Jehan went last.

  “Wait!” Aaron called as the knight stepped into the ferry. “You’re being paid to protect us, as well.”

  “From outlaws, not boatmen,” Jehan called back. “Deal with him yourselves. We’ll meet you at Hostavalla tonight.”

  “You…vopils!” Aaron shouted. “Ganador! Bastard! Salierissugua!”

  “Aaron!” Solomon exclaimed in admiration. “Very good. Although he’s probably done even more disgusting things in his life. I was wondering when the old Jehan would appear.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?” Aaron asked.

  “I didn’t think of it,” Solomon admitted. “It never occurred to me that you might trust a Christian.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Solomon turned around. Arnald was still with them.

  “Sorry,” he said. “So shall we find out what kind of bargain that monk and Jehan made for their own passage?”

  While they had been talking, Yusef had already approached the ferryman.

  “Greetings, Fortus.” He nodded.

  The ferryman nodded back. “You brought a friend this time, Senhor Yusef.” He smirked at Babylonia, who glared at him.

  “So what did they agree to pay in exchange for giving you free rein to gouge us?” Yusef asked.

  Fortus chuckled. “Seven pogesia for each man, including the monks, two sous for the battle horses and one each for the mules and pack animals.”

  “You did well,” Yusef told him. “I’m inclined to give you a couple of sous extra just for the entertainment.”

  “I hate those monks.” Fortus’s cheerful mask fell and the anger showed through. “They all think they’re Christ, Himself. But He cared for the poor. They just take from them.”

  Yusef nodded. “If I ever met a cleric who could heal the sick or raise the dead, I might convert, myself.”

  “Well, they say the apocalypse won’t come until the Jews all accept Our Lord as their savior,” Fortus said philosophically. “If that’s what it will take for you to turn Christian, I figure we’ll all be here a long time yet. So, five men, one woman, four horses, three mules. Not taking much to trade this time, are you?”

  “Things are too unsettled in Spain,” Yusef said. “No one’s buying.”

  He gave the ferryman the money.

  They made it across without incident, although Arnald prayed loudly to a saint Genesius, to whom he offered several candles before they reached the opposite bank.

  “Don’t know why you think he’ll help you,” Fortus said. “Saint Genesius knew how to swim.”

  “Exactly,” Arnald said. “If I fall in, he’s just the saint I want looking out for me.”

  Jehan expected to endure a tirade from the Jews for leaving them on the other side of the river, but no one said anything. Upon arriving at camp later that day, they checked their packs for damp and then took out cloths to dry the horses. Arnald made it clear to everyone that he was expending some of the travel money his father had given him on a candle at the first shrine they came to.

  “How many times will we have to do this?” he asked the world in general. “I swear I saw demonic claws just below the surface of the water. I was sure they’d tip the boat over.”

  “It’s just a little water,” Berengar said. “Anyone would think you’d never been baptized.”

  This was such a turnabout from his behavior on the other side of the river that everyone forgot resentment to gape at him.

  Berengar shrugged and laughed. “Well fooled, weren’t you?” he said. “The ferries farther up the Garonne from Toulouse are far worse than that. I only wanted to see if that old espoarit would try anything, believing I was too busy reviewing my sins to notice.”

  “You had me convinced,” Arnald said. “And I didn’t blame you. I’ve never been in anything so rickety that still floated.”

  They continued on with no further conversation. The day was long, but twilight had still settled on them before they reached the town of Hostevalla. It had been built around hostels for the pilgrims, for several roads met there. The next morning they set out for the new town of Santa-Maria-Cabo-la-Puente established at the foot of the Pyrenees by the king of Narvarre for the comfort and taxation of pilgrims and traders.

  “It’s clouding over,” Aaron said as they continued south. “I hope we don’t have to camp out tonight.”

  “If we make it to Cabo-la-Puente, I’m fairly sure I can find us a place to stay,” Solomon told him.

  “Why? Do you have a deal with one of the innkeepers?” Aaron joked. “Wait a bit! I know that smirk. What’s her name?”

  “She’s a widow named Cauzida,” Solomon answered.

  “A widow.” Aaron nodded knowingly. “Fairly young, I would imagine.”

  “Well, the last time I saw her she still had all her teeth.” Solomon laughed. “Of course, that was five or six years ago. I’m hoping she’s held up and hasn’t remarried.”

  “If it gets us a bed tonight, I hope so, too,” Aaron said.

  Cabo-la-Puente was a town that existed only to serve the needs of travelers. Berengar and Guy were happily surprised to find that not all the services were those that pilgrims would be expected to enjoy. One building, especially, drew their attention. It was clearly a tavern below but the shutters of the upper windows were wide open. Women leaned from them and called down to the men, offering unimaginable delights.

  “Warm the bath for me, my Angels,” Berengar called up to them. “I’ll be with you soon.”

>   “No you won’t,” Jehan told him. “Even when you see the monks safely to the priory, you still have to watch out for the Jews.”

  “We’re in a town!” Berengar protested. “What could happen to them here?”

  “Everything from having their purses cut to murder,” Jehan answered. “I don’t like Jews, either, but we took their coins and we owe them. So stay out of the brothels and water your wine. You can immerse yourselves in sin when the job’s done.”

  “Can we follow the Jews if one of them goes to the brothel?” Berengar asked hopefully.

  “No.” Jehan smiled. “If he’s that foolish, then no one can help him. You’ll take shifts watching outside their inn. Arnald, you and Guy go first.”

  “Can’t I sit inside with them?” Arnald asked, looking up. “It’s going to rain.”

  Jehan grimaced. “I forgot you were a Jew-lover. As long as you stay sober, I don’t care. But Guy will have to agree to it as well.”

  Guy wasn’t pleased with the idea, but a glance at the sky, where dark clouds were gathering before a sharp northern wind, convinced him.

  “As long as they don’t try any of their sorcery on me,” he decided.

  “Good. Berengar and I will see to the monks,” Jehan told them. “We’ll meet at the monastery gate tomorrow just after Lauds.”

  Solomon smiled when he saw Arnald enter the inn.

  “I wondered how long you’d last out in this weather,” he said. “You can bet that Jehan has found a warm corner to curl up in.”

  Then he noticed Guy.

  For the first time, Guy noticed him, too. “Jehan told me that he knew you in Paris,” he said. “I’m supposed to watch out for you. He says you’re tougher than you look.”

  “That’s right,” Solomon agreed pleasantly. “Did he tell you anything else?”

  Guy shook his head. He was about to say more but a welcome sound caught his attention, the rattle of dice in a cup.

  “Who brought a tric-trac board?” he asked.

  “It belongs to the innkeeper,” Solomon said. “Samuel and Aaron are just throwing for amusement. There’s no money on the table.”

  “Why not?” Guy went over to watch.

  “We’re forbidden to gamble,” Samuel explained.

  “So are Christians,” Guy said. “But it’s only a minor sin.”

  Samuel thought that over. “How do you know?”

  “Guy,” Arnald warned. “We’re not to play games of chance with the people who hired us. And you have nothing to bet with.”

  “No,” Guy said sadly. Then a thought struck him. “But we could play for my wages, double or nothing. What do you say?”

  Behind him Arnald shook his head violently.

  “Guy, Arnald,” Solomon interrupted. “This is our hostess, Na Cauzida. Cauzida?”

  He had hoped to be able to greet her privately. She had welcomed him warmly on his last visit, but who knew what had passed in her life since then?

  “Solomon!” Her smile was casual, as if he was a neighbor who dropped in every week. “Good to see you again. You have a different party this time.”

  “Three of my fellow traders.” Solomon waved to Aaron, and Samuel, who stood and bowed. “Yusef will be with us in a moment. He has a servant woman with him. She’ll need a bed to herself.”

  “Of course, and these men?” Cauzida gave Guy and Arnald a smile that made even Guy think about something besides games of chance.

  “Our guards,” Solomon told her. “There are four altogether. At least these two will need a place.”

  She thought. “That will be a crowd but, yes, I can do it. It happens that you are the only guests tonight unless the storm brings more. There’s a place in the kitchen for Yusef’s servant. The loft upstairs is divided by a curtain. Jews on one side, Christians on the other?”

  “Thank you, Cauzida.” Solomon’s eyes asked another question.

  “Perhaps you could come with me while I figure the price,” she answered. “Helian!” she called into the kitchen. “See that the straw upstairs is clean and put another bone in the soup.”

  “It’s mutton,” she told Solomon. “Will your friends eat it?”

  “I will,” he said. “Now, shall we do the reckoning?”

  They went into the next room.

  Guy swore and spat on the flagstones. “Damn! She was ripe! I should have known he’d have her bagged already. You know what they say about Jews.”

  Arnald had gone back to the game. “No, what do they say?”

  Samuel also seemed interested. “No one told me anything. Maybe I should know before I’m married.”

  Guy looked from one to the other. He suspected they were laughing at him.

  The servant came in from the kitchen, carrying a plate of cheese and olives. He was followed by a small child of uncertain sex dressed in a long tunic. Its feet were bare. The sight of so many men didn’t seem to bother it.

  “Gossave!” It greeted them.

  “What?” Guy asked staring at the child.

  “She means ‘God save you,’” the servant volunteered. “If you’ll keep an eye on her, I’ll go up and see about the straw. Just see she doesn’t go near the coals.”

  The three men instinctively backed away from the child. She didn’t seem worried by the reaction. Samuel smiled at her nervously. She smiled back and came over to the table. She tried to pull herself onto the bench but didn’t seem to have the coordination.

  “Up,” she commanded, giving them a confident grin.

  Samuel obliged. “Odd-looking thing,” he said.

  “Maybe she’s part Saracen,” Guy suggested.

  “Of course not,” Arnald said. “She’s an idiot-child. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

  The little girl was now seated on the table. She had straight dark hair, cut short and a curiously flat face with almond shaped eyes. Her tongue seemed too large for her mouth and from her flat nose thick mucus was flowing. Samuel looked around for a cloth to wipe it with.

  “I’ve known only one,” Samuel said. “A friend of my mother’s had a son who had the same sort of features. It didn’t live long.”

  Guy shuddered. “If she were mine, I wouldn’t grieve.”

  “I don’t know,” Arnald said. “She has a certain appeal. Sort of like having your own pet monkey.”

  He patted her on the head. “Nice monkey,”

  “Meow!” she said.

  They all laughed. “She got you!” Samuel said. “You’re not a monkey, but a nice kitty, aren’t you?”

  At that moment, the door to the inn banged open and Yusef blew in along with a burst of rain.

  “Babylonia’s missing,” he gasped. “You’ve got to help me find her.”

  For a moment everyone just stared at him. Then Arnald said what they all were thinking.

  “Why?”

  “Because she could be in trouble,” Yusef answered. “She might have fallen and broken her ankle, or been set upon by thieves. There are plenty of unrepentant rapists and murderers concealed among the pilgrims you know.”

  “It would be a desperate man who’d try to rape her,” Guy said not softly enough.

  Yusef glared at him.

  The bang of the door brought Solomon and Cauzida running from the chamber. Solomon quickly finished buckling his belt.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “What are you doing with my child?” Cauzida demanded at the same time.

  “Your what?” Solomon said.

  Cauzida lifted the girl from the table. “Anna,” she said. “My daughter.”

  “We were only looking out for her,” Samuel explained. “We would never hurt her.”

  Yusef explained the situation to Solomon.

  “If Babylonia’s run off there’s nothing we can do tonight,” Guy spoke up. “It makes no sense to go out. In the dark and in this weather, we’d never find her. Those lunatics are sly. They can hide so’s you could walk right by and not spot them.”

  “She’ll d
ie if we don’t find her,” Yusef pleaded.

  Solomon sighed and reached for his cloak.

  “I’ll go with you, Yusef,” he said. “Where did you last see her?”

  “I’ll come, too.” Aaron stood up. “The poor thing may be wandering witless through the town, prey to evil of all sorts.”

  Arnald realized that his sojourn in the warmth was to be short lived. His feet were still soaked from a leak in his boot. He wiggled his toes, feeling the water squelch between them.

  “Maybe she escaped you to join her own people,” Guy suggested. “She’s probably at one of the pilgrim hostels.”

  Arnald brightened at this. Even Samuel looked hopeful. But Yusef shook his head.

  “She wouldn’t go back to them,” he said with certainty. “She’d been forced into making a pilgrimage when I found her.”

  “What for?” Solomon asked. “Attacking her mistress? Yusef, how could you take her into your home and then let her wander freely? She could have been doing penance for murdering her own children.”

  “What’s this?” Cauzida said, clutching her daughter tightly. “Solomon, what have you brought into my home?”

  “Babylonia did nothing wrong,” Yusef said. “She’s been wickedly mistreated. No.” He forestalled Solomon’s reproach. “I don’t condone the offenses she committed against Josta or, even worse, how she tried to pollute the food. I only say that her unbalanced mind comes from great tragedy. The sin is mine, for thinking I could heal her. Please, help me. She mustn’t suffer more because of my pride.”

  And there it was, Solomon thought. Yusef was a humorless man, rigid in his observance of the Law. He spread disapproval like fertilizer, believing that it would improve the lives of those it landed on. But at the end of the day, he was a good man in the true sense, not just a community leader, like the Good Men of Toulouse.

  “I’ll take a lantern and check the side streets,” he said. “She may have taken shelter in one of them.”

  “Guy and I will ask at the monastery and the pilgrim hostels,” Arnald offered.

  Guy started to protest, then gave it up. The odds were against him.

  “Will you come with me, Aaron?” Yusef asked. “There are places by the river where women are sometimes taken.”