The Alchemist of Netley Abbey: Eighth in the Hildegard of Meaux medieval mystery series

by Cassandra Clark

  Bestowing a curt obeisance to acknowledge the abbot’s superior status, he left.

  ‘What a night!’ she exclaimed, leaning over to kiss Hubert on the mouth when no-one was looking. ‘You would not want to have been there in so furious a time, my dearest. The flames were terrifying. Luckily everyone was brought off safely although it’s a tragedy for the ship-owner.’ She sat down.‘You’re looking serious, Hubert.’

  ‘You haven’t heard. I know you can’t have heard because Philip wants it kept a secret for the time being.’

  ‘Heard what?’

  His expression did not alter. ‘You know the monks are saying it was God’s punishment for the evil of our ways?’

  ‘They always say that whenever the weather runs to extremes – ’

  ‘But this is about more than the storm.’

  ‘You mean the loss of Master John’s ship and his cargo? What evil has he done?

  ‘Nothing to do with him.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Not everyone was saved.’

  ‘What? You mean – ?’

  He looked somber. ‘No doubt you were told that everyone was brought off safely but it’s not so. Before the ship man left he found a body below deck.’

  ‘A body?’ She half-rose in astonishment.

  ‘Just so.’

  After a pause she asked, ‘Was it one of the crew?’

  Hubert did not answer straightaway. He was frowning. At last he admitted, ‘He does not know.’

  ‘How could he not know?’ The answer dawned. ‘Poor fellow. Disfigured in the flames?...It was truly terrible, Hubert,’ she continued rapidly, ‘I’m amazed more of the crew weren’t lost, especially given their reluctance to trust themselves to the water. Those lay-brothers are to be admired for their speed and organization in getting them off safely.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Our two brothers also pulled their weight as we would expect. But how could anyone be over-looked? I don’t understand.’

  ‘He found him in his own private alcove below deck where he keeps his charts and personal belongings as ship master...He believes it was a death caused, not by fire, but by other means.’

  ‘What other means?’

  ‘It appears that the man died horribly if his remains are anything to go by. The ship man is scarcely sane, by all accounts. He’s babbling about devils.’

  ‘Devils?’ She gave Hubert a skeptical glance. ‘He was grieving about the loss of his ship when he came ashore,’ she told him. ‘There was no mention of a body let alone devils.’

  ‘Maybe that was his way of dealing with the shock,’ Hubert replied.

  ‘Surely everyone else will know what he’s saying by now? I haven’t spoken to anyone since I left the warming house last night.’ She cast her mind back to what was said. ‘And all that time the ship man knew he had lost one of his crew?’ She frowned. ‘Is Master John aware of this?’

  Hubert looked uncertain. ‘My Netley Abbey brother did not mention anyone else, merely saying that Abbot Philip had been informed and wished it to be kept secret until he had taken time to meditate on the matter and pray for guidance.’

  ‘Am I supposed to know?’ she asked him.

  He kissed the back of her hand. ‘I keep no secrets from you, dear heart.’

  ‘The ship man was the last to leave...?’

  ‘He insisted on speaking to Philip shortly before Prime, to urge the abbot to send an exorcist. He was in quite a state, I’m told. “Free my ship of devils,” he was pleading. Why he should imagine devils on board is anybody’s guess.’

  ‘Is the body not a matter for the Sheriff?’

  ‘There’s some confusion about how far the jurisdiction of the abbey extends. Some say above the high-water mark, while others say below it and half-way across Southampton Water. Meanwhile the poor man is afraid the devil will run free to harvest the souls of others while the law clerks dispute the matter.’

  Hildegard told him what she had seen last night after the lightning bolt struck the St Marie. ‘It was such confusion. At first people were running everywhere. They had to find enough boats – those little fishing boats on the beach are hardly big enough to take more than a couple of passengers – most are no more than single coracles – you remember the one we came down river in? It’s an amazement that those conversi managed to get the rest of the crew off safely in such craft – it was fortunate the ship had been brought into the near channel ready to unload her cargo today – they must be distraught now to find they overlooked someone. If they know, that is.’

  Hubert was silent for a moment before saying, ‘I have received such kind treatment since arriving here,’ he gnawed his bottom lip. ‘I would like to offer help. It’s clearly a case of murder, don’t you think? Abbot Philip must suspect as much. The man had no burn marks on him, or so the ship man says. If I could get out of this thing,’ he scowled at the wooden contraption in which his broken leg was encased. Even before he spoke again Hildegard knew what he was going to say. ‘Well,’ he confirmed her suspicions. ‘Will you?’

  ‘Stand in for you in this matter?’

  ‘Is it too much to ask?’

  Slowly she shook her head. ‘They have shown you much courtesy and care, as you say. For that reason alone I will do my utmost. Now, where shall we begin?’

  ‘First I suggest you call Gregory and Egbert. You know you can rely on them. Bring them here. Let’s thrash this matter out and then cast our net.’

  So it was, with little to go on, even after thrashing it out as Hubert suggested, the three Cistercians found themselves a few hours later in a pitching wooden boat sculled by one of the local fisherman, in the company of Master John, the grieving ship man, and a monk from the abbey, destination the St Marie.

  Sunlight flashed from off the water in dazzling contrast to the gaunt, smoke blackened shape of the ruined trading cog now at anchor in the inner-channel. The closer they approached the stronger was the assault of the acrid stench of smoke as it floated across the water. Maybe it was the great pine pole of the main mast which still stood, though lightning blasted, that made Hildegard see it as the finger of doom pointing heavenwards.

  As if trying to lighten the dark mood that had settled over the occupants of the boat Master John exclaimed, ‘It’s a miracle she’s still afloat! We’ve that to thank God for.’

  They came up close.

  The ship man asserted that it was no miracle. ‘She’s the best little cog afloat. I told you she would never let us down. Even through the Bay of Biscay she was as stout-hearted as any man could desire.’ There were tears in his eyes again. ‘Let me on board first, I beg you. Give me a minute alone with her.’

  There was silence on the matter of devils and exorcism.

  Gregory bent his head to his two companions. ‘I’ll follow to keep him in sight. This whole business is odd.’

  The bows of St Marie loomed like a black cliff above them as they came in under her side. Their own small boat banging against her oak boards with a dismal clacking sound emphasized their own puny nature in face of the greater desolation.

  The oarsman sculled vigorously to a place amidships where it would be easier to climb up and, reaching for a dangling line above their heads, held the boat steady. ‘You folk get aboard. I’ll go round starboard to see if I can find a longer line to fasten to. I’ll wait for you round there. Tide’s beginning to run again.’

  The ship man could scarcely wait to scramble up the rope and pitch himself over the side onto the deck. Gregory, long-legged and athletic, kirtled his habit and followed with ease.

  He called down to the others, ‘You’ll have to tread carefully. Some of the planks are burned through.’ His head disappeared and Hildegard guessed he was following close behind the ship man.

  With some difficulty she was hoisted on board by Egbert pulling from above. He had had no difficulty in swarming up a trailing line. The monk needed even more help than Hildegard but Master John, waiting for them both to find their feet on board, courteo
usly climbed up last. He was almost as tall as Gregory and fit for a man who was a merchant and presumably unused to much physical activity.

  The monk, finding it difficult to keep his balance on the heat-buckled planks, was rubbing soot off his hands and shaking out the white skirts of his habit with a mouth pursed in distaste. ‘Are we expected to go below deck?’ he asked.

  ‘I expect so,’ Hildegard replied. ‘If that’s where they found the body.’ She turned to Master John. ‘Had you already left the ship when he was found?’

  He turned to look at her. ‘Yes,’ he replied after a moment’s consideration. ‘I was not the last to leave by any means.’He trod with caution over the blackened planks then held out his hand to Hildegard. ‘They’re still warm. Let me guide you.’

  The ship man had not long to commune alone with his beloved. When they found him he was standing in the bows. In his hand he held a charred piece of wood but let it drop before wiping the back of his hand over his face when he heard them crunching about, then he turned, brisk and now suddenly in command of both himself and his ship.

  ‘I suggest we go below at once. I reckon she’s sound enough to be saved. We’ll have to get to work, shan’t we, Master John? As soon as the devils are got out of her we can make her good for another thirty years. Come, follow me, I know where to tread.’

  The merchant’s face was impassive and he made no false promises about refurbishing the ruined ship but he followed in the steps of his ship man with Gregory next while the monk, a Brother Heribert, and Hildegard herself picked their way after. She was impatient to get below but the monk was still fussing about the grime on his habit so, by the time she climbed down the three short steps, it was already crowded by those who had gone first. Gregory and the merchant were standing with crucked necks under the low timbers. Stooping, she joined them.

  Bales of goods concealed under waterproof covers were stacked along the walls. Hildegard prodded one but it gave to her touch, proving that what the merchant had said last night about not bringing in wine was true. It was fabric of some kind.

  There was only a narrow space between the bales and the men filled it but they had also made a small deferential space round a pile of what looked like rags heaped on the floor. Then she saw that what they partly obscured was a body in a foetal position. Something was grasped in one talon-like hand and the other dragged at his throat. The face was bloated and almost unrecognisable as human.

  At first Hildegard thought it must be one of the crew as had been suggested all along but then she gazed at him in shock.

  Brother Heribert, still fussing with the soot on his robes, came belatedly down the steps, to where they were all standing then he himself gave an audible gasp. Master John and the ship man turned to him with expressions that bordered on the accusatory.

  Gregory and Egbert were crouching down beside these remains of a human being.

  When Egbert stood up, he said, ‘This is unexpected. He’s one of ours.’

  Chapter Two

  A babble of voices were released by his acknowledgement that the body was one of his own Order. The Cistercian habit of unbleached stamyn surely proved it.

  The ship man was heard above the others. ‘I guessed that at once when I saw him but what I’d like to know is what was he doing on board my ship?’

  Gregory was crouched next to the body and looked up at Brother Heribert. ‘Do you know him? Is he from Netley?’

  The monk came a little closer and replied in slow horror, ‘I think I do indeed know him, brother. He may be one of our choir monks. Without a closer look I will only guess that it is Brother Martin. See his ring?’

  The little finger of the claw-like hand wore a wide plain band with the letter ‘M’ scrolled on it.

  His name meant nothing to the visiting Cistercians. Heribert filled in a few details. ‘He’s been at Netley for six years. A trustworthy, disciplined sort of fellow. Well-liked,’ he added, ‘although clearly not without his secrets – for why else would he be on board.’

  ‘Was he helping get the crew off?’ asked Hildegard.

  ‘I thought the brotherhood was instructed to help by praying for the ship and all on board,’ remarked Egbert with his usual bluntness. ‘So what exactly do you mean when you say disciplined, brother? He can’t have been all that disciplined to be here, unless...’ he tailed off as an idea struck him.

  Heribert began to stutter. ‘I’ve always found him a strict upholder of the Rule. That’s what I mean.’ He glanced down at the body then turned away and rushed up on deck. They could hear him throwing up over the side.

  ‘He’s not a pretty sight,’ Master John said in a low voice. ‘Why is his face puffed up like that? Is it poison?’

  ‘He has something in his hand,’ Hildegard pointed out. ‘Can you see what it is, Gregory? It looks like a key.’

  ‘It is a key,’ he replied after a closer scrutiny. ‘When the rigor leaves him we shall endeavour to find out which lock it fits.’

  When Heribert, shame-faced, returned, Gregory suggested he say a short prayer for his brother and in the silence following, as the ship rocked on the changing tide, with the clanking of the anchor chain setting up a doleful chime, under obvious thoughts about death and eternity and the fate about which we can know nothing, Hildegard wondered how she had not noticed the unfortunate victim on the beach last night.

  The question troubled her while the men discussed what to do next. She was no nearer an explanation when she heard them agree to leave Brother Heribert on board to keep vigil beside the body, while they themselves returned to the abbey to make arrangements to bring it back to its resting place within the precinct.

  As they made their way up on deck Hildegard wondered aloud if Abbot Philip had been expecting anything specific in the cargo and had sent the unfortunate brother to fetch it off.

  Heribert knew nothing about that. His nose quivered in distress. ‘We expected a few books, that’s true. Nothing out of the ordinary that I know of.’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry I cannot help. You must speak to the sacristan about that. Meanwhile I shall pray for our brother’s soul.’

  The ship man hailed the boat that was waiting for them below then told them that now he was on board his own ship he was staying put. ‘If you want me you know where to find me.’ He gave Master John a long look. ‘Send a couple of my lads out. We might need help to keep what’s left of your cargo safe. Did you manage to take much off?’

  ‘Some.’ He swung one leg over the side. ‘Any preferences?’

  ‘My bo’sun will draw lots.’ As the merchant grasped the ropes the ship man muttered, ‘Get a promise out of you-know-who.’ He indicated what he meant by rubbing his thumb over his palm. ‘I can try to get her up river to a boat builder there.’

  With the promise to return with more help in order to take the body back to the abbey and deal with what could be retrieved of the cargo, John slid down the rope into the boat after the others and, lighter now with fewer passengers, and helped by the tide, the craft made a swift crossing back to the beach.

  Egbert agreed to go and sort things out with the prior before joining the other two at what he called HQ.

  They were sitting beside Hubert’s bed when he returned. ‘I’ve told him,’ he announced. ‘I couldn’t speak to the abbot. He was in meditation in his lodging. Apparently he’ll welcome us should we so honour him by a visit after Chapter.’

  ‘Did you find out anything from the prior?’ Hubert asked.

  ‘He’s a cold, dead fish. He expressed no surprise nor grief at the death of Martin. Maybe they didn’t get on. I asked him about the goods they were expecting. He said they were importing nothing out of the ordinary.’

  ‘But what, exactly, did he say?’

  ‘I asked him. He seemed affronted. He said I could get a list from the sacristan if I thought it important. They get books twice a year, he says. Some to copy. Some to read. That’s why it’s a bit of an event. I managed to get a better idea from the sacristan –
but all he knew about were the spices, some ivory, ox-horns, paper, nothing else other than some plate for their altar and a couple of bales of silk and velvet.’

  ‘Do they always use Master John and the same ship man?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘John came on the scene a year ago. They’ve never had any problems. The St Marie is well-founded. He claimed everything has been satisfactory – which I imagine is high praise coming from the prior.’

  ‘Any ideas why Brother Martin went out there?’

  ‘And,’ Hildegard butted in, ‘was it under instructions or in defiance of them?

  Egbert ran a hand over his tonsure making his grizzled fringe stand up-right. ‘I believe they may have a lunar view of the truth.’

  ‘By which you mean – ?’ Gregory raised his eyebrows.

  ‘It rises in visibility and splendour then wanes to nothing. They claimed to know nothing about Brother Martin’s reason for going out to the ship. Which in itself suggests that someone is obscuring the truth about Martin’s presence on board.’

  ‘And, more specifically, how and why he was poisoned?’

  ‘Exactly, Hildegard, exactly.’ Egbert shot her a dark look in agreement.

  Gregory stretched his long limbs into the space under Hubert’s crib. They were still sitting round his bed but appeared to be getting nowhere with their discussion.

  ‘Let’s go back to last night. We seem to agree that, pending the coroner’s assessment, Martin was poisoned. At the time we were too busy trying to get the boats down to the water to take much notice of anything, but what about you, Hildegard, you were on the beach from the beginning. Did you see anything that might be relevant?’

  She began to describe everything she had seen but stopped abruptly in mid-sentence. ‘You know, I did see something. This is probably nothing but before the first boat reached the shore when the fire was at its brightest, I saw a boat arrive at the ship. It must have been the first to get there. Someone climbed out of it and went hand over hand up the anchor chain to get on board. At that point the crew were leaning over the side making up their minds whether to drown or be consumed by fire.’