Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (32 page)

Catherine could bear it no longer.

“Please, my lord,” she said. “I will swear on the bones of Saint Remigius, on the Holy Cross itself, that Astrolabe is innocent.”

“As will I,” John said.

“Me, too,” Margaret added, with a nervous glance at Count Thibault.

Samson glared at them. “I will excuse your outburst this once. Your offer of compurgation is noted. However, I believe we all would prefer to have the truth rather than simply the belief of his friends. Count Thibault, what do you say?”

“I believe Astrolabe’s story implicitly,” the count stated. “Brother Arnulf may have acted in good faith, but his conclusions must be incorrect.”

However, there was an edge of doubt in his voice. Catherine gripped Margaret’s hand in fear.

Archbishop Engebaud stood to address them. “I don’t want to believe that this man, of good birth and education, could be led into heresy and violence. But I agree that we have not been given an alternative to his guilt. If the deaths of this woman and the canon are connected, who else would have had a reason to kill them both? Who else was even present in both places?”

Catherine bit her lip. This was what she should have discovered.

“I agree,” Archbishop Hugh said. “I was in Brittany only a year ago, and I’m acutely aware of how heresy and violence have been allowed to flourish, even among the nobility. His family connections do not guarantee that this man is innocent.”

“Then you’ll support my plea for the excommunication of Olivier of Dol?” Engebaud asked eagerly. “It is his fault that these heresies have spread so far.”

“Yes,” Hugh answered. “It’s clear that he has not been a good shepherd and should be deposed if he will not submit.”

“Thank you!” Engebaud said. He seemed to have forgotten the matter at hand in his joy at acquiring an ally.

Sybil brought him back to the present.

“I have taken Astrolabe into my household and under my protection,” she said. “Since we are not agreed on his guilt, I insist that he be released to me. I, for one, would like to see more proof on both sides.”

“You’ll guarantee that he won’t flee?” Samson asked.

“The woman murdered was the sister of my ward,” Sybil said. “I promised their father I would watch over them. Finding the one who killed Cecile is of the utmost importance to me. I don’t believe it is Astrolabe. Therefore, I shall make my pledge for his compliance in your final decision. If he absconds, I will make restitution from my own purse.”

“Oh, my lady!” Astrolabe said.

“Are we agreed?” Samson asked the others.

They all nodded.

“This must be resolved soon,” Samson continued. “I have far too many obligations to allow this to take up much more of my time. I shall give Brother Arnulf and Astrolabe until Saturday morning to collect more substantial proof. Then, after consulting with the rest of you, I will decide the truth as best I can. Remove his chains.”

Arnulf strangled a protest. Regaining his poise, he bowed to all and left.

Astrolabe was taken away to have the shackles struck off. Catherine hoped they would be gentle about it.

The archbishop thanked his guests for coming and offered them more wine and some sugared almonds. The dish was pointedly not passed to Catherine’s corner.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be all right?” she said to Margaret, when they were back down in the street.

“Are you sure?” Margaret answered. “It didn’t sound settled to me. I thought my grandfather would say the charges were nonsense and tell everyone to go home.”

Catherine had actually been hoping much the same.

“I suppose he couldn’t,” she said. “He can’t appear to be inequitable before the other lords and the archbishops.”

“That wouldn’t have bothered me,” Margaret said firmly.

Compline was long past and the street was deserted. Outside the gate they saw one forlorn soldier keeping watch. As they came out, he ran toward them.

“Godfrey!” Catherine said. “We have another chance. They’re letting him go, for now.”

“For now?”

“We have more time, at least, to find the real murderer,” she said. “That’s something.”

A moment later John came out. Astrolabe was with him.

“Are you all right?” Margaret asked him. “Oh, dear, that was a stupid question, wasn’t it? I can see you aren’t.”

Astrolabe gave her a smile and a hug.

“I can tell you, I’m much better than I was a few moments ago,” he said. “Chains!” He shuddered.

“Many noblemen, kings, even apostles have been unjustly fettered,” Catherine told him. “We even have a feast for Saint Peter in chains, right?”

Astrolabe looked at her a moment and then burst out laughing. The sound echoed down the dark street. He laughed so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath, and John had to pound his back.

“Hysterical,” he told the others. “After a day like this, I don’t blame him.”

“No,” Astrolabe was still chuckling. “It was just so idiotic, the image of me as Saint Peter. Catherine, do you see the whole world as an analogy?”

“I was only trying…” Catherine began.

“Never mind,” Astrolabe said. “I understand. Thank you. Thank you all for offering to stand for me. I don’t think I had truly understood how damaging the facts were. If you hadn’t been there, I might have been convicted tonight.”

“Instead, you’ll have to endure my snoring again,” John said.

“That would be music,” Astrolabe said. “But I can’t take your hospitality. Countess Sybil spoke to me before she left. I’m to stay in the guardhouse by the convent. I believe this time I’m the one to be guarded. She’s pledged me to appear in two days. She can’t take the chance that I’ll run off.”

“Ah, then
I’ll
have to listen to you snore,” Godfrey said happily. “Have you ever thought about the noise a nose like yours can make?”

They all started at the sound of a shutter being thrown open.

“You down there!” a man shouted. “Take it somewhere else! I’m trying to sleep!”

“A good idea,” John whispered. “I’ll be at the convent at first light tomorrow. I know we can solve this. I wouldn’t be surprised if that Arnulf wasn’t the one who killed Rolland. He’s the sort who would plan how to cover up a crime before he committed it.”

“If only we could find a motive,” Catherine sighed. “I’d cheerfully see him taken to the gallows. Or sent on a long and dangerous pilgrimage,” she added hastily.

They set off for Saint-Pierre, parting from John at the corner.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Godfrey asked him. “There’s no one out at this hour but cutthroats and drunks.”

“I’ll run,” John said. “I’ve had years of practice racing the cutpurses home from the tavern. Don’t worry. It’s not far.”

By the time they got back to the convent all was dark except for one small oil lamp left to guide their way up the stairs. Godfrey and Astrolabe saw the women past the guard at the gate before going to sleep with the other guards.

“I’m so weary I don’t think I can even get my shoes off,” Catherine moaned as they went up the stairs.

“I’ll help you,” Margaret said. “I hope Annora is still up. Then we won’t be the only ones disturbing everyone.”

“Goodness, I had forgotten all about her.” Catherine stopped at the middle step to rest. “She was so quiet during the questioning. I hope the evening didn’t upset her too much.”

When they entered the room, the light showed all the other women asleep in their beds. Margaret shone it into the corner where their bed was to see if Annora was awake.

Once again, Annora’s place was empty.

“We assumed she was with you,” one of the women told Catherine the next morning.

“She probably stayed in the countess’s room,” another yawned, “rather than disturb the rest of us.”

Catherine let the rebuke pass. Where had Annora gone? The first thing that occurred to her was that the woman had a lover. But it didn’t seem like Annora to do something that would certainly infuriate Countess Sybil. So far, none of the women had reported her absence, but if this went on, Catherine was inclined to tell the countess herself.

In the meantime, she had to face another day.

“Only four days past the equinox.” Catherine tried to make her tired body stand. “I feel like it’s a midsummer dawn. I’m sure I just went to sleep.”

“Perhaps you should stay in today.” Margaret’s face was creased with worry.

“With all we have to do?” Catherine said. “Nonsense! I’m fine. I was just grumbling.”

“What do we have to do?” Margaret asked.

“Find Annora, first.” Catherine sat on the edge of the bed and let Margaret help with her hose and shoes. “Then I want to find out as much as we can about this Canon Rolland.”

“The man who was murdered?” one of the women asked.

Catherine cursed herself for speaking thoughtlessly. “I was just curious about how it happened,” she said. “They say he was found in the toll booth by the river. What would he have been doing there?”

“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.