The Fate of the Arrow

by Shel Pais

Hubert nodded. “Yes, Your Grace, I am very interested. However, is not Hedgestone out of your jurisdiction?”

  “Yes, but I have been given the authority to replace Bartholomew. You need not concern yourself with that.”

  “Very well. Please tell me more.”

  “What I am going to say is very confidential. Hubert and Alwyn, do you swear by Our Lady you will not divulge this to anyone?” Alwyn had been listening intently to the bishop, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

  “Yes, Your Grace, we swear,” the two men said simultaneously.

  “The priory at Hedgestone is being poorly run. You yourself mentioned how filthy it was when you stopped there. Its finances are in terrible shape, the buildings are deteriorating, and the monks are lazy. Also, the prior has become too friendly with the Jews.”

  Hedgestone stood outside Northampton, not far from the Jewish quarter at West End. Hubert thought he was beginning to understand what Basil wanted. Clueless, Alwyn kept silent.

  “Prior Bartholomew? Why would he get too friendly with the Jews? I’ve never met him, but my friend, Prior Xavier, knows him well, and never said anything like that about him.”

  “I do not know why. However, it was reported to me he has been attending some of their services, and often discusses scripture with the rabbi. This is dangerous, and I want it stopped.”

  “I have heard of a monk in Germany who committed the ultimate heresy of converting to Judaism. You don’t want that to happen here, I suppose.”

  “Absolutely not. Prior Bartholomew will be retired, and you will take his place.”

  “What about my current abbey? Who will replace me?”

  “I will take care of that. I want you to go back to your abbey, get your belongings, and meet me at Hedgestone in mid-July. If you arrive before me, say nothing to Bartholomew or anyone else. Just say I told you to meet me there, understand?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I understand. And thank you for this opportunity.”

  Basil grunted. “Just do as I ask and you will please me.”

  “What about me?” Alwyn asked.

  Basil thought for a moment. “Hubert, please leave the room. I want to talk to Alwyn alone.” Hubert looked annoyed and insulted. Why did he have to leave when a mere priest did not? He reluctantly bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

  Basil took a long look at Alwyn. “How long have you been at York?”

  “About seven years. I’ve been assisting the bishops. There have been three in the last few years.”

  “Yes, I know. While I do not know you, if it is agreeable, I would like you to go to Hedgestone with Hubert. I want you to report back to me if he does anything against my orders. Will you do that?”

  Alwyn answered without hesitation. “Yes, Your Grace. Hubert is my cousin, but I have no love for him. I will be happy to honor your wishes.”

  “Good. I am counting on you. You will find it very beneficial to have me on your side.”

  “May I ask why you want me to do this?”

  “I do not trust him. I want him to do exactly what I say and nothing more. His reputation as an opportunist scares me, but with your eyes on him I would feel better. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I want nothing more than to serve you.”

  “Then remember that. Now go prepare for your journey.”

  The bishop sat and became immersed in his thoughts. Ever since he was a young priest, he wanted to enrich himself by appropriating money from the Jews. However, since they were protected by the king, he had to be very careful. Hubert will do the dirty work for me, Basil thought, smiling as he worked out his plan. He will not be able to resist his own greedy nature. Alwyn will keep me informed of his progress. When the time comes, Hubert will suffer the consequences, and I will reap the reward.

  “Eustace,” he called.

  “Yes, Your Grace?” Eustace was always close. Perhaps too close, Basil thought. He may know too much. I will have to keep my eye on him as well. “Bring me more wine. I have much to ponder.”

  “Right away, Your Grace. Right away.”

  Alwyn returned to his chamber in the bishop’s palace and found Hubert waiting for him.

  “It’s about time you returned. What did he want with you?”

  Alwyn’s face was blank. “Nothing in particular. He asked me to accompany you to Hedgestone, and inquired about the conditions in York, particularly about the Jews there.” Alwyn hoped he was convincing, adding the lie about the Jews. He never considered himself a very good liar, and when the bishop asked him to spy on Hubert, he feared he could not do it without giving himself away.

  “He asked you to go with me and about the Jews? Why would I have to leave his presence for that?”

  “I don’t know,” Alwyn said in a low, soft voice.

  “He’s up to something, I know it. Alwyn, I’m glad you’ll be accompanying me. I was going to ask Basil myself for you to come with me anyway. Listen. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open and tell me anything that involves him. Do you understand?”

  Alwyn began to show a little fear. By nature, he was not a brave man. “He’s a bishop. I cannot spy on him for you.”

  Hubert looked sternly at his cousin. “Do you want me to tell him about your frequent escapades with Brother Thomas?”

  Alwyn shuddered. That swine, he whispered to himself under his breath. He is always holding that over me. “No, cousin. Of course not. I will do as you ask. But please do not tell anyone about that.”

  Hubert smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t. As long as you do as I tell you and are loyal to me, your secret is safe. However, if you betray me…”

  “I will not betray you,” Alwyn said sheepishly.

  “Good,” Hubert replied. “Now, let us pack our things and prepare to leave.”

  IT WAS A SHORT WALK from Mordecai’s house to the synagogue. As he slowly approached the old structure, Mordecai thought of all the time he has spent there, including attending the minyan that morning.

  More than one hundred years old, the synagogue building used to be a tavern. When the owner died, he owed a considerable amount of money to Isaac, the wealthiest moneylender in West End at the time. In an unusual display of generosity, Isaac donated it to the community to be converted into a synagogue since the previous one, a ramshackle wooden building, had burned down. Arson was suspected, but it could not be proven, and the sheriff showed no interest in trying to identify the perpetrator. Fortunately, the rabbi had managed to save the Torah.

  Isaac was not known to be a very kind or considerate individual. He often clashed with the synagogue elders in both religious and secular matters. He always wanted everything his way, which alienated him from almost everyone. While the community thanked him for his gift, it was generally believed he only did it to try to make amends for his sins against God and man, since he was more than seventy years old. Mordecai had gotten along with him, even though they did not have much in common. Isaac was killed the same night as Mordecai’s wife.

  Mordecai opened the heavy wooden door and saw the rabbi sitting in a small room near the back of the chapel. There were only two chairs and a small table with a lit candle on it.

  “Shalom, Mordecai. Thank you for coming,” Rabbi Ezra greeted him. “I hope you are well. Please sit down. You are probably wondering why I asked to see you.”

  “Shalom, Rabbi. Yes, I am well enough. And yes, I am wondering why. What is this about?” Mordecai sat in a chair that for years had threatened to outlive its usefulness.

  “We are worried, Mordecai. The council and I are worried about your son David.”

  “Worried? About what? Has he done something wrong?”

  “Mordecai, we know how hard it has been for you since that awful day, losing your wife and your best friend. And we understand how much more difficult it has been for your children.”

  “Yes, of course. Please get to the point.”

  “As you wish. David is showing more and more a lack of
interest in his studies and in his prayers. When you are away, he often does not even show up. He also has been talking to some of the other boys about tournaments, jousting and fighting with weapons. He actually told one he wishes he could become a knight! Imagine that, a Jewish knight. How absurd.”

  “Rabbi, you know this is nothing new. David has never been afraid to defend himself. He was very upset he could not help save his mother. I’ve spoken to him several times about this. He understands we are forbidden to have weapons. He understands we cannot learn about such things. But he does not agree with these restrictions, and I do not as well.”

  “Are you saying you would let him fight if he could?”

  “Yes, I am. Our history has many examples of how we fought tyranny and won. Today is different. We are scattered and prevented by laws and edicts that keep us from defending ourselves. The Church says it protects us, but often incites the people against us. We rely on a lord or sheriff for protection when they usually have no love for us as well. The king considers us his property. Bar Kochba and Judah Maccabee would not have lived like this. They would fight back if they lived today under these conditions, and I think David just feels the same way.”

  “Mordecai, we must never speak like that. Do you not think such talk is dangerous, for everyone else as well as David? If the people start hearing these things there will be trouble.”

  “Rabbi, there’s always the chance of trouble occurring. The Gentiles do not need any excuses—they make up their own. Perhaps if there were more like David, willing to fight back, there would be less trouble for us.”

  The rabbi stood and pointed at Mordecai. “We want him to stop all this talk and bad behavior. We want him to be like all the other boys. Talk to him again. Make him understand. He must attend all classes and prayers. We will hold you responsible if he does not.”

  “Rabbi, I will talk to him, but not because of what you said. I will talk to him because he cannot get his wish. He will never be able to fight with a weapon for himself or our people. He will never be able to be a knight. I do not know where his destiny lies. Not everyone is a good student or has the same desires as everyone else. Somehow, he must learn to live his life as best he can under the conditions our people are required to live. But I will say again, Rabbi, if he could pursue his dream, I would let him.”

  Mordecai left without saying goodbye. As he walked slowly home, he thought about what the rabbi had said. Mordecai always had been a man of peace and tried to avoid confrontation. As a boy, he often had been harassed by the Christian children when walking to cheder or simply playing in the street. He had been beaten up a few times, but it was mostly his pride that was injured. He admired David’s feelings and his willingness to fight. He especially admired his lack of fear or when he defended other Jews who were being harassed. His size and strength enabled him to do this. However, what he wants cannot be. Not now. Not ever.

  David sat with his best friend Avram by the side of the river Nene. The stench from the offal and human waste thrown into it usually made it impossible to be this close. Today, however, it was not so bad. They both were tossing small stones, watching the ripples slowly fade away. Avram was David’s age, but several inches shorter and about thirty pounds lighter. He was a thin boy, with brown hair and brown eyes. David liked to tease him about being so skinny. He would tell him how easy it would be to break him in half. Avram would laugh and compare himself to the biblical David and David to Goliath. It was all in fun.

  “Avram, the rabbi spoke to my father about me.”

  “I’m not surprised. You haven’t exactly been a model student lately.”

  “I know.”

  “Was your father angry with you?”

  “Actually, no, and that surprised me.”

  “I’m surprised as well. My father would have been very angry with me. He constantly tells me study not only brings me closer to God, but also is important to separate us from the Gentiles. I’m not sure what it means, but he’s adamant about it.”

  “I think my father changed after what happened to my mother. He still has not forgiven himself for not being here or God, for that matter, for taking her away from us. Perhaps that’s why he isn’t angry with me.”

  “He hasn’t forgiven God? That’s serious. Do the elders know about his feelings?”

  “They do, but under the circumstances they don’t hold him responsible for them, the same way they did when Joshua’s daughter Miriam was raped and killed that same night.”

  “Poor Joshua. He was never the same. They say he died shortly afterwards of a broken heart. She was his pride and joy after his wife died on their passage here.”

  “Well, I tell you, Avram, I’m sick of all of this. I want to fight back.”

  “But you know you can’t. How could that ever happen? Jews cannot have weapons, cannot be a man-at-arms or anything like that. Only Christians can. It’s the law. Even if you could somehow get a weapon, how could you learn to use it? Where could you hide it? I’m afraid it’s impossible.”

  David looked down at the water. “I know. I know. There must be a way. I just have to find it.”

  Avram put his right hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “If you ever do, I’ll be there for you. I’ll keep your secret and help you in any way I can.”

  “Thank you, Avram. I know it’s mad, but I just can’t get those thoughts out of my mind.”

  The two friends headed back to West End. It was getting late, and it soon would be dark. It was Friday night, and the Sabbath shortly would begin.

  Sabbath at Mordecai’s house generally resembled Sabbath at all the Jewish houses in West End. The female of the house would light the Sabbath candles, covering her eyes as she said the blessing. Rachel performed this, even though she was still a little too young. At the Sabbath meal, blessings were said over the wine and bread. The meal usually consisted of chicken, although sometimes fish would be served. Side dishes may be a vegetable or soup, depending upon what was fresh at the market. Rachel would take it upon herself to prepare the meals. Mordecai could not afford a housekeeper like his brother.

  After the meal, grace would be chanted, and the family would gather together. Mordecai would tell the children stories from the Torah and about his youth and their grandparents.

  On Saturday mornings, after a brief breakfast, the entire family would walk to the synagogue for services. Since the men and women sit separately, Rachel would go to the women’s side, usually sitting with her best friend, Malka. The service always seemed too long, and the sounds of men chanting in an unfamiliar language could be heard outside the building. After services, the family would return home for their dinner, usually resting afterwards. Sometimes they would have a visitor, and he and Mordecai would discuss scripture or the events of the week. David preferred to take walks when the weather permitted, as he was too bored not doing anything for so long. As darkness approached, Rachel would light the Havdalah candle signaling the end of the Sabbath. Then the family would have their supper. Another Sabbath, another week. It seemed like nothing would ever change.

  MORDECAI LOOKED AT DAVID ASLEEP and smiled. He thought how he wished he could help him. Mordecai knew he is who he is and would probably never change. David is very smart, but not in classroom ways. He knows his environment, and he knows how to talk to people, especially Christians. He is never afraid to stand up to them. Why could I not be more like him? Why are not more of our people like him? Being submissive was never appealing to Mordecai, but it constantly had been repeated to him by his father.

  Mordecai’s father Tuvia was born and raised in Paris. Mordecai decided to leave France after a series of anti-Jewish incidents that resulted in the murder of his parents. While there seemed to be a relative calm between Christians and Jews for quite a while, it did not take much for something to ignite. Usually it was the same thing—a debtor did not want to pay his moneylender (the occupation forced upon most Jews), and made up some story to incite a few hateful people that resulted
in terrible consequences.

  Mordecai chose to go to England because his brother Baruch had resettled there, he knew some of the language, and could speak French, which was widely spoken by the Normans. Baruch was ten years older than Mordecai and had decided to leave France eight years earlier. Baruch had a temper that could convert a small, seemingly insignificant incident into a major situation. One evening, Baruch was leaving the small Paris synagogue his family attended. He had hurried out after services because he was invited to dinner at his friend Gabriel’s. Baruch was excited, because Gabriel had a very pretty sister, Chava. While the custom was for marriages to be arranged, Baruch was never one to hope to chance when there was something he wanted. Chava was fourteen, and Gabriel, like Baruch, was sixteen. He was determined to someday make her his wife.

  As Baruch ran down the street on the way to Gabriel’s house, he accidently collided with a knight walking with two other knights to an inn. The knight stumbled, twisted his ankle, and cried out in pain.

  “Watch where you’re going, Jew,” the knight curtly said. “Bow down and apologize.” His two companions, Sir Nicholas of Rouen and Sir Guibert of Caan, moved around him, so Baruch basically was surrounded.

  Baruch tried to escape. One of the knights tripped him, and he stumbled onto the filthy street, his anger growing as they laughed. A small crowd of onlookers began to gather.

  “Nice work, Nicholas,” the apparently aggrieved knight said. “You made him bow down.” The knight, Sir Jacque of Navarre, put his right boot on Baruch’s back, pinning him down. “Now we’ll make him apologize.”

  Baruch quickly assessed the situation, looking for some way out. He knew he could not simply apologize and do the knight’s bidding. They would not let him off without a beating or something worse.

  “Sir Knight,” he said. “You must let me go. I’m on an important errand.” He figured it was a futile attempt to escape unscathed, but this was the only thing he could think of.

  “What errand, you lying pig?” the knight replied.