“What do you think?” the woman said with a smirk.
Everyone laughed. “The lower clergy are always too poor to pay for a proper whore in a brothel. They take it whenever they can get it.”
“The jael probably was working with a gang,” the woman finished. “She lured him to the hut and her confederates dispatched him.” She ran her finger across her throat. “I’m just surprised they didn’t dump the body in the river.”
“Likely it was too heavy,” someone else suggested. “My brother says he ate enough for four the night he died.”
“How does he know that?” Catherine asked.
“Felix is a subdeacon of Paris,” she said. “He was at the dinner with all the others from the chapter.”
“Do you think he’d talk to me about it?” Catherine asked.
“Why? Do you want the menu?”
“It’s important that I find out all I can about what Rolland did that night,” Catherine persisted. “The countess will confirm that my interest is not idle, if you ask her.”
“It’s nothing to me,” the woman said. “Felix will be at the cathedral this afternoon. Remind me and I’ll introduce him to you.”
“That was stupid of me to speak in their hearing,” Catherine said to Margaret as they hurried to meet the men. “I must watch my tongue.”
“But the slip gave you information,” Margaret consoled her. “Although I can’t think it matters where Rolland ate or what.”
“Anything he did might be important,” Catherine said. “I also want to know more about this Arnulf. At least now we have a name to put to him.”
“I had thought that the archbishop of Tours knew him,” Margaret said. “But he didn’t seem to last night.”
“Yes, that’s odd. I could have sworn that when we met them on the road, he said that he and Rolland were working under Archbishop Engebaud’s orders.”
They found John, Astrolabe and Godfrey waiting for them.
“I meant to tell you last night,” Godfrey began as soon as they were away from eavesdroppers, “but I didn’t want to give you further cause for worry when there was nothing to be done so late. Gwenael has run away. I searched for her yesterday afternoon but had no luck.”
“I’m sorry for that,” Astrolabe said. “But it might mean that she finally realized there was no use in trying to free Eon. I hope she finds her way back home.”
“Annora seems to be missing as well,” Catherine said. “At least she didn’t sleep with us last night. The countess may know where she is, but I’m afraid to ask her, in case she doesn’t. Annora would never forgive me.”
“It is strange that she would do something so foolish,” Godfrey said. “I wonder if her absence might have something to do with the people who came for Lord Gui.”
“He’s no longer in the infirmary?” Catherine asked in consternation.
She still had questions for him, based on Margaret’s conclusions. “How do you know?”
“That was one of the places I checked when I was looking for Gwenael,” Godfrey told her. “They told me that some of Gui’s relatives had arrived and that he left with them. Apparently he felt much better. I tried to discover more, but apparently they were so glad to be rid of him that no one asked any questions. They were all sure that he was glad to see his family and went willingly. Could Annora have been among them?”
“It doesn’t seem likely,” Catherine said, “knowing how they feel about each other. Annora didn’t even greet him when they were at the same dinner last Friday.”
“I think the time has come to inform the countess,” Astrolabe said. “She may know where Annora is. There’s no point in being anxious about her if she’s safe with Lady Sybil.”
“I’ll go back and ask,” Margaret offered. “Will you wait for me?”
“At the beer stand,” Astrolabe said. “We won’t move until you return.”
“And perhaps not for some time after,” said Catherine.
Margaret hurried back to the convent. It was still early; the nuns had hardly begun chanting Prime. She wondered if it were wise to knock at the countess’s door. What if she woke her?
As she stood in the courtyard, hesitating, the problem was solved for her. Annora appeared at the entrance to the kitchen gardens. Her hair and clothes were rumpled again. Margaret was not as naive as her family imagined. How could she be? She had a good guess as to what Annora had been doing.
“Annora!” she waved.
Annora heard her and stopped. “Who is it?”
“Margaret.” She came over to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. When you didn’t come in last night we thought something dreadful had happened to you.”
“I’m fine,” Annora said. “I spent the night at Saint-Etienne, praying for the soul of my sister.”
“Oh,” Margaret tried to keep the tone even. “Then you must be very tired. I’ll let you go up to rest.”
“Thank you.” Annora unbent a little. “It was kind of you to be concerned. The meeting last night was very difficult for me. All the time I was safe with Countess Sybil, thinking my sister safe in the convent, Cecile was enduring so many horrors. Hearing about it was terrible. I couldn’t help. I never knew. Now all I can give her are prayers.”
Margaret felt ashamed of her suspicions although not entirely convinced they were wrong.
“When I pray for the soul of my mother, as I do each day, I’ll add Cecile’s name to my entreaties,” she promised.
Annora thanked her and tried to continue up to their room. Margaret moved to stand in her way.
“Yes?” Annora asked wearily. “Is there something else?”
Margaret licked her lips. “Yes. I wasn’t going to mention it, but my conscience won’t let me stay silent, especially now that Gui has left.”
“What? What are you talking about, child?”
“I’m not a child!” Margaret said instinctively. “I went to see Gui at the Temple. I had a brooch that was found when he was attacked and I thought it might be his. He said it was your grandmother’s but that he had always wanted it. He seemed so sad. I gave it to him. I’m sorry.”
Annora stared at her, not taking in what she was saying. She blinked.
“You went to see Gui?”
“Yes.”
“You had a brooch you thought was his?”
“Yes, it was—”
“Gold, square, with topazes?” Annora asked.
“Yes, your grandmother’s? He said you had it from Cecile when she left for the convent.”
“No,” Annora said coldly. “Cecile took it with her. She said it wasn’t a piece of vainglory but a reminder of someone she had loved. It was the only possession she couldn’t give up.”
“But then how did it get into the garden here?” Margaret wondered. “I was sure Gui had dropped it.”
Annora had paled. She was holding her mouth tightly, white to the lips, as if trying not to throw up.
“Whoever did”—she swallowed hard—“could only have taken it from Cecile. Sweet Virgin! The person who killed her was only a step away from me, and I did nothing! If I ever get that close to him again, I swear I will rip out his heart with my bare hands.”
Nineteen
A crowded beer stand, Reims. Thursday, 8 kalends April (March 25), 1148. Fifth day of the council. Feast of the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin, nine months before the Feast of the Nativity.
Cum ergo staret in conspectus concilü, interrogatus a summo
pontifice quisnam esset, responit: “Ego sum Eun, qui venturus est
juidacre vivos et mortuos, et seculum per ignem.“… ad haec risk
universa synodus, derisitque hominem tam profunde datum in
reprobum sensum.
And so, when he stood before the council and was questioned by the pope as to who he was, he answered, “I am Eon, who is come to judge the living and the dead and the world through fire.”… At this the whole council laughed and derided a man so deeply disturbed in his mind.
William of Newburgh, The History of English Affairs
I was so sure Annora had dropped the brooch,“ Margaret said. ”Gui told me it was hers!“
Margaret’s teeth clanked against the rim of her bowl. She put it down, too agitated to hold it steadily.
“I’ve done something awful!” she went on. “You should have seen Annora’s face when I told her I had given it to Gui. I might as well have stabbed her with the thing. Now how will we ever know who took the brooch from Cecile? For it must have been the one who killed her. Could it have been Gui?”
“I’m hoping for Arnulf,” Astrolabe said.
“That would be nice, but he wasn’t at the dinner where I found it.” Catherine tried to envision the faces of the other guests. She had certainly had enough time to study them, since Gui had ignored her for most of the evening.
“Margaret, you mustn’t feel bad about this.” John patted her trembling hand. “Your impulse was generous.”
“But stupid,” Margaret sighed. “And I was positive that Gui had faked the attack. I must have been wrong about that, too.”
“Astrolabe,” Catherine asked, “could Gui have been among those who raided the Eonite camp?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “All I remember is a horde of men on horses coming toward me.”
“But Cecile knew one of them,” Catherine said. “We assumed it must have been one of the knights of Henri of Treguier. What if she saw a family member, one she didn’t trust?”
“Is there any way we can find out if Gui was in Brittany then?” John asked. “We don’t have time to send messengers.”
“We can’t even find out if Gui is in Reims now.” Astrolabe hunched over the table, his head in his hands.
“Then let’s begin with what we can do,” Catherine said. “John, will you come with me to the house where the bishop of Paris is staying? I want to catch this subdeacon Felix before he leaves for the council to see what he can tell us about Rolland’s last night. You probably studied with him, or tutored him or drank with him at least. You can help me get information. Perhaps someone saw him leave for the toll booth.”
“Certainly.” John was on his feet at once.
“What can we do?” Godfrey asked.
“Find the other two,” Catherine said. “Gui and Gwenael. None of you have told Gui that Cecile is dead, have you?”
Margaret shook her head vehemently. “He spoke as if he thought she was still at Saint-Georges.”
“I said nothing,” Astrolabe added.
“I think it’s time to tell him,” Catherine said. “If he’s innocent of her death, then he may be willing to help us. If he is guilty, then he might well make a slip that will trap him.”
“And Gwenael?” Margaret asked.
Catherine shook her head. “I have no idea what she’s planning. But I’d feel better if she were under our supervision. Her wild ideas about Astrolabe could do as much damage as Rolland’s rumor mongering.”
“What about those ‘relatives’ that came for Gui?” Astrolabe asked.
Catherine threw up her hands. “I’d forgotten all about them. Maybe the guard at the Temple can describe them? Someone will have to ask Annora what other family Gui has. Ow!”
She pressed a hand against her stomach. The others looked at her in alarm.
“Just a cramp,” Catherine said. “This child seems to be playing crosses and naughts on the wall of my womb.”
She adjusted her bliaut.
“Now, we all have a task,” she said. “We’ll meet back here at Nones. Is that agreeable?”
They all agreed. Catherine and John left on their errand.
Astrolabe remained at the table with Godfrey and Margaret. Rather than leaping into action, as Catherine had hoped, all three seemed lost in their own thoughts.
Astrolabe sighed.
“Poor Eon is going to be brought before the council today,” he said. “I can’t help now in the way that I had hoped, but I still feel that I should be there to speak for him. Of course it might well make his case worse.”
“Did it occur to you that you might be arrested before you had a chance to speak at all?” Godfrey asked.
“Oh, yes.” Astrolabe rubbed his bare chin. “But I’ve waited long enough. I can’t spend the rest of my life denying my name or running from faceless accusers. With all that’s happened here, they may expect me to continue hiding. If I come before the council on my own, it may make their denunciations appear mere bluster.”
“Perhaps.” Margaret was doubtful. “But is it worth the risk? I don’t mind going to observe the proceedings for you. I’d like to see this madman. I want to understand how he could inspire such devotion when his theology is so obviously preposterous. Even if he’s condemned, you could plead for him privately later.”
“Could you get me inside the cathedral?” Godfrey asked her. “It seems to me that we might begin there anyway. If Gwenael hasn’t regained her senses and fled the city, then I’d bet she couldn’t resist seeing her master again.”
“I’m sure I could,” Margaret said. “Astrolabe? Will you wait for us here?”
“No.” Astrolabe got up. He squared his shoulders for battle, his hand automatically reaching for the sword that he no longer wore.
“I can’t abandon Eon now,” he said. “I’m sure he’s frightened and confused. Someone must be his advocate. If I’m permitted, I’ll speak for him. Compared to the bandits that roam the forest and the wandering preachers who incite riots, he’s harmless. I’ve got to try to make the council understand that.”
“And what if Arnulf takes the opportunity to bring his charges against you before the full council?” Godfrey asked.
“Archbishop Samson will see that he doesn’t,” Margaret said. “At least, I think he will. Anyway, Arnulf seems to be convinced that he’s won. Why accuse him among so many of Abelard’s old students and take the chance of swaying opinion in Astrolabe’s favor?”
“Who knows what Arnulf might do? In his own way, that monk seems as mad as Eon,” Astrolabe said. “Does anyone remember what monastery he said he was from? I’d like to know the abbot who would send him out on a mission like this alone.”
“Good, they haven’t left yet.” John pointed at the sedan chair outside the house, ready for the bishop. “Now, to find Subdeacon Felix. Why don’t you let me go to the porter first and ask for him?”
“Why can’t I come with you?” Catherine asked.
John looked down at her. Catherine followed his gaze.
“Oh, yes,” she chuckled softly. “Clerics do tend to panic when pregnant women show up at their door. Very well. I’ll sit on the bench over there. Bring him out, though, if you can.”
She sat down to wait. After a few moments the morning sun made her drowsy and she closed her eyes, leaning back against the rough wall in front of the house.
She was vaguely aware of people passing, but no one bothered her. Two men were conversing nearby in low tones. They must have moved closer to her for she caught a sentence that brought her suddenly alert. She forced herself to relax, keeping her eyes shut.
“Rolland never went to whores,” one voice said. “Everyone knows that. And even if he did, he’d never go off to meet one in a remote place at night. He was slow but not stupid.”
“I wonder if his death might have something to do with those questions he’d been asking,” the other said. “Wanting to know about some priory in Brittany. Did he come to you? He seemed awfully agitated when I saw him.”
“No,” the first one said. “Why would he be interested in a Breton house? Do you think he finally realized that he had no hope for advancement? Even his family couldn’t get him a better position in Paris.”
“And so he decided to retire to the wilds of Brittany? Seems drastic.”
“Oh, well.” The men started to move away. “It doesn’t matter anymore. The only position he has now is recumbent.”
Catherine opened her eyes a slit. The men were walking away
from her, toward the cathedral. She sat up. Interesting. Without any effort, she had overheard something useful. Assuming that she had no Latin, the canons had spoken without caution. After her wasted day as a beggar, she had decided that the plan had been foolish. She was astonished that it had worked after all.
John came out soon after with a boy who looked too young to be a student, much less a subdeacon.
“Felix?” she asked.
“Master John said you know my sister?” he asked in some puzzlement. “I’m not clear why she sent you to me. Canon Rolland and I weren’t close.”
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