Dissolution (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries) (33 page)
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Authors: C J Sansom
BOOK: Dissolution (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries)
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‘The abbot himself has to impress the seal on any deed,’ I mused.
‘Anyone else would be guilty of forgery,’ Mark observed.
‘Remember we saw the seal on his desk the day we came? It would be safer locked away, but I imagine he likes displaying it there, as a symbol of his authority. “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.” ’ I stretched out my arms. ‘I do not think I will eat in the refectory tonight, I am too tired. You may get something from the infirmarian if you wish. You could bring me some bread and cheese.’
‘I will do that.’ He left the room, and I sat thinking. Since our argument at the inn there was a new reserve, a distance, in Mark’s voice. Sooner or later I would have to raise the matter of his future again. I had an obligation not to let him throw away a career; an obligation not just to Mark but also to his father and mine.
WHEN HE HAD still not returned after ten minutes I began to grow impatient; I was hungrier than I had realized. I heaved myself up and went out to look for him. I saw there was a light coming from the open door of the infirmarian’s kitchen and I heard a sound too, soft and indistinct. A woman sobbing.
I pushed the door wide. Alice sat at the table, her head in her hands. Her thick brown hair was in disarray, hiding her face. She was weeping softly, a sad keening noise. She heard me and looked up. Her face was red and blotchy, the strong regularity of her features dissolved. She half-rose, wiping her face on her sleeve, but I motioned her to remain seated.
‘No, no, stay, Alice. Pray tell me what ails you so.’
‘It is nothing, sir.’ She coughed to hide a break in her voice.
‘Has someone done something to upset you? Please tell me. Is it Brother Edwig?’
‘No, sir.’ She gave me a puzzled look. ‘Why should it be him?’
I told her of my talk with the bursar, and that he had guessed the source of my information. ‘But do not fear, Alice, I told him you are under my personal protection.’
‘It is not that, sir. It is just -’ she bowed her head - ‘I feel alone, sir. I am alone in the world. You cannot know what that is like.’
‘I think I can understand. I have not seen my family for years. They live far from London. I have only Master Poer at my house. I know I have a position in the world, but I too can feel alone. Yes, alone.’ I smiled at her sadly. ‘But have you no family at all? No friends in Scarnsea that you visit?’
She frowned, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. ‘My mother was the last of our family. The Fewterers were not popular in the town, women healers are always a little apart.’ Her voice became bitter. ‘People come to women like my mother and grandmother for help with their ills, but they do not like the sense of obligation. Once when he was young Justice Copynger came to my grandmother, seeking help for a griping in his guts that would not leave him. She cured him, but he would not so much as acknowledge her in the street afterwards. And it did not stop him taking our cottage when my mother died. I had to sell all our sticks of furniture that I had grown up with, for I had nowhere to put them.’
‘I am sorry. Such thefts of land should be stopped.’
‘So I do not go into Scarnsea any more. On my rest days I stay here, looking at Brother Guy’s books. He helps me try to read them.’
‘Well then, you have one friend.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, he is a good man.’
‘Tell me, Alice, did you ever hear of a girl who worked here before you, a girl named Orphan?
‘I heard she took some gold cups and ran away. I do not blame her.’
I decided to say nothing of Goodwife Stumpe’s fears; I did not wish to worry Alice further. I felt an overpowering urge to rise and clasp her to my breast, to ease the ache of loneliness in us both. I fought it down.
‘Perhaps you too could leave,’ I suggested diffidently. ‘You did once, when you went to work for the apothecary in - Esher, was it not?’
‘I would leave this place if I could, all the more after what has happened these last ten days. It is full of dusty old men and there is neither love nor warmth in their ceremonies. And I wonder still over what poor Simon meant about warning me.’
‘Yes, so do I.’ I leaned forward. ‘Perhaps I may do something to help. I have contacts in the town, and in London too.’ She looked at me curiously. ‘I can feel for your position, truly I can, and I would help you. I would not have you -’ I felt myself blush - ‘put under any - any obligation to me for it, but if you would accept help from an ugly old hunchback I would gladly give it.’
Her look of curiosity deepened. She frowned. ‘Why do you call yourself old and ugly, sir?’
I shrugged. ‘I am approaching forty, Alice, and I have always been told I am ugly.’
‘It is not so, sir,’ she said hotly. ‘Why only yesterday Brother Guy remarked how your features have a rare combination of refinement and sadness.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘I hope Brother Guy is not of Gabriel’s inclination,’ I said jokingly.
‘No, he is not,’ Alice said with sudden heat. ‘And you should not insult yourself so, sir. Is there not enough suffering in the world?’
‘I am sorry.’ I laughed nervously. I was overcome with embarrassment and pleasure at her words. She sat looking at me sadly and despite myself I lifted a hand to reach across and touch hers. Then we both jumped as the church bells began to peal, clashing and echoing through the night. I let my hand fall as we both laughed nervously. The door opened and Mark walked in. Alice at once rose and went to a cupboard; I guessed she did not want him to see her tear-streaked face.
‘I am sorry I took so long, sir.’ He spoke to me but his eyes were on Alice’s back. ‘I went to the privy and then stopped in the infirmary hall. Brother Guy is there, the ancient monk is very ill.’
‘Brother Francis?’ Alice turned quickly. ‘Then please excuse me, sirs, I must go to him.’ She brushed by us, her footsteps pattering up the corridor. Mark’s face was concerned.
‘Has she been crying, sir? What ails her?’
I sighed. ‘Loneliness, Mark, only loneliness. Now come, those infernal bells are tolling for the vigil.’
AS WE PASSED through the infirmary hall, we saw Alice and Brother Guy standing over the old monk’s bed. Blind Brother Andrew sat in his chair as usual, cocking his head from side to side to catch the sounds of Alice and Brother Guy’s movements. The infirmarian looked up as I approached the bed.
‘He is sinking,’ he said quietly. ‘It seems I must lose another.’
‘It is his time.’ We all looked round as the blind monk spoke. ‘Poor Francis, he has watched nearly a hundred years as the world falls down to its end. He has seen the coming of the Antichrist, as was foretold. Luther, and his agent Cromwell.’
I realized he had no idea I was there. Brother Guy stepped hastily towards him, but I laid a restraining hand on his arm.
‘No, Brother, let us hear.’
‘Is that a visitor?’ the blind monk asked, turning his milky eyes towards me. ‘Did you know Brother Francis, sir?’
‘No, Brother. I am a - visitor.’
‘When he was professed it was still the time of the wars between Lancaster and York. Think of that. He told me there was an old monk at Scarnsea then, as old as Francis is now, who had known monks who were here at the time of the Great Pestilence.’ He smiled softly. ‘Those must have been great days. Over a hundred brothers here, a clamour of young men seeking the habit. This old man told Brother Fabian that when the Pestilence came half the monks died in a week. They partitioned the refectory, for the survivors could not bear the sight of the empty tables. The whole world was stricken then as it fell a further step towards its close.’ He shook his head. ‘Now all is vanity and corruption as the end nears. Soon Christ will come and judge all.’
‘Quiet, Brother,’ Brother Guy murmured anxiously, ‘quiet.’ I looked across at Alice; she dropped her eyes. I studied the ancient monk; he lay quite unconscious, his wrinkled face calm.
‘Come, Mark,’ I said quietly. ‘Let us go.’
WE MUFFLED ourselves up and went out. The freezing night was still, moonlight glinting on the snow as we crunched along to the church. A subdued glow of candlelight was visible from the windows.
At night the church had quite a different aspect. It seemed like a great cavern, the roof lost in echoing darkness. Pinpoints of light came from candles lit before favoured images round the walls, and there were two larger oases of light, one beyond the rood screen in the choir, the other in a side chapel. I led Mark there, guessing Singleton would have the less exalted setting.
The open coffin stood on a table. Posted round it were nine or ten monks, each holding a large candle. They made a strange sight, those cowled figures in the dark, their sombre faces lit from below. As we approached I saw Brother Athelstan there; he quickly lowered his head. Brother Jude and Brother Hugh shuffled aside to give us room.
Singleton’s head had been set upon his neck and a block of wood laid between the head and the coffin’s back to hold it in place. His eyes and mouth had been closed and but for the red line round the neck he could have been lying in the repose of natural death. I looked down, then lifted my head hastily at the smell that rose from the body, cutting through the monks’ fusty odour. Singleton had been dead over a week and out of the vault he was decomposing fast. I nodded gravely to the monks and withdrew a few paces.
‘I am going to bed,’ I said to Mark. ‘You may stay if you wish.’
He shook his head. ‘I will come with you. It is a doleful sight.’
‘I would pay my respects to Simon Whelplay. But as laymen I doubt we would be welcome.’
Mark nodded and we turned away. The sound of a Latin psalm came from behind the rood screen where the novice lay. I recognized Psalm 94.
‘O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth: O God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself.’
EXHAUSTED THOUGH I was, I slept badly again. My back pained me and I only dozed in fits and starts. Mark too was restless, grunting and mumbling in his dreams. Just as the sky lightened I fell at last into a deep sleep, only to be woken by Mark an hour later. He was already up and dressed.
‘Jesu’s mercy,’ I groaned. ‘Is it full day?’
‘Aye, sir.’ There was still something withdrawn about his tone. A shaft of pain ran through my hump as I heaved myself up; I could not go on like this.
‘No more noises this morning?’ I asked. I had not intended to bait him, but it was coming to annoy me the way my words seemed to slide from him like water from a duck.
‘As a matter of fact, I did think I heard something a few minutes ago,’ he said coldly. ‘It’s gone now.’
‘I have been thinking on what Jerome said yesterday. You know he is mad. It is possible he himself believes the stories he told us, and that that made them sound - credible.’
Mark met my gaze. ‘I am not sure he is mad at all, sir. Only in great agony of soul.’
I had hoped Mark would accept my explanation; though I did not realize it then, I needed reassurance.
‘Well, one way or the other,’ I said sharply, ‘what he says had no bearing on Singleton’s death. It may even have been smoke to hide something he does know. And now we must press on.’
‘Yes, sir.’
By the time I was shaved and dressed Mark had gone down the hall to breakfast. As I approached the kitchen, I heard his voice and Alice’s.
‘He should not make you labour so,’ Mark was saying.
‘It makes me strong,’ Alice replied in a voice lighter than any I had heard her use. ‘I will have arms thick and strong as yours one day.’
‘That would be meet for no lady.’
Feeling a pang of jealousy, I coughed and went in. Mark was at table, smiling at Alice as she manoeuvred stone urns into a row. They did indeed look heavy.
‘Good morning. Mark, would you take those letters to the abbot’s house? Tell him I will keep the deeds for now.’
‘Of course.’ He left me with Alice, who set bread and cheese on the table. She seemed in better spirits this morning and made no reference to our conversation the night before, asking me only if I fared well that morning. I was a little disappointed at the formality of the question, for her words the evening before had gladdened my heart, although I was glad I had withdrawn my hand; there were enough complications here.
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