Priscilla Royal - Wine of Violence

“Worldly ambition can be a powerful thing, sister. Confession and contrition might save the soul, but men of power in the Church do not view indiscreet sodomy in the lower orders with indifference. Those found guilty of it are removed from any position of authority, if not expelled from the Order and left to beg on the byways with lepers,” Eleanor said. “Hard penance for a man used to the sweet honey taste of power.”

Thomas chewed on a finger. “Simeon also had reason to fear for his very life, unless his family was influential enough and cared to intervene. If Brother Rupert revealed what he was doing with Eadmund, our receiver might have been burned at the stake as an example to all that sinned in like fashion. Imagining such foretaste of hellfire is enough to unman most of us.”

Anne studied the monk in silence for a very long moment. “You speak with authority, brother. I accept what you both say, although I do not understand the need for worldly ambition in a community dedicated to a higher glory.” Then her voice turned angry. “But Brother Simeon had bought silence from the boy and his father. How could our good priest have known, and how would our receiver have found out that he did?”

“I can only guess.” Thomas shook his head. “Perhaps Brother Rupert began to suspect about Simeon from something he had heard or seen. Perhaps he had even seen the two together in questionable circumstances. Since we now know from Gytha that Brother Rupert had gone to Eadmund’s father, he may have wanted to confirm his suspicions with Eadnoth, and Eadnoth might have later told our receiver of Brother Rupert’s visit. For cert, Brother Simeon would have feared that Brother Rupert would pass the news on to the mother house in France.” Thomas’ voice caught as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Paid or not, from the distraught behavior of Eadmund’s father before he, too, was killed, I’d say he could no longer endure what was being done to his son. Eadmund did say he had lost his wits. Perhaps the father even meant to kill Simeon himself. That would explain the knife when you saw him at the cave, my lady.”

“Still, Eadmund swears neither he nor his father said a word,” Eleanor said. “Although the lad may not have known all his father did or said.”

Sister Anne looked pensive for a moment. “There was one thing. At the time I thought it was of no moment, but now I wonder.…”

“What?” asked Eleanor.

“As Prioress Felicia was dying, she fell into a deep sleep. I thought she would never awaken from it, but she suddenly became quite agitated. She thrashed around in her bed, moaning and reaching out as if she were trying to grab something. To calm her, I took her hand and spoke gently, thinking to soothe her into a quiet passing. Then her eyes opened wide and she grabbed my hand with an uncommonly strong grip and begged me to tell Brother Rupert something. As I remember, she said she had accused wrongly and then she used the phrase: ‘it was not the one we feared, but rather the other.’ Before I could ask our priest to come to her, she died.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Yes, and I saw some light of understanding in his eyes, but he said nothing further to me.”

Eleanor bent her head. I am deeply puzzled by this. What is the connection between her words and Brother Rupert’s subsequent visit to Eadnoth? If no one told them about this heinous crime, how could they have suspected it? And her words suggest they thought someone else was involved in what troubled her so much she had to speak before she died. Nay, it is more likely that they would have realized there was something amiss with the account rolls. She shook her head. Can that be? To my knowledge, only the receiver worked on them. Who else could be involved or even suspected? Eleanor looked up at Sister Anne. “What do you think, sister?”

“I have nothing to say, my lady. I do not know what troubled Prioress Felicia so.” Anne’s expression was both distressed and questioning.

“When I looked over the account rolls myself,” Eleanor continued, “I found that harvests had been almost as plentiful as usual, but the incomes from them were not quite as high as they should have been. The discrepancy seemed minor and I told Brother Simeon that I planned to visit some of the nearby lands to ask some questions. It did not occur to me that the harvests had been greater and the rents properly paid but both improperly recorded. As far as I can tell, only he was guilty of this act. He was clever enough to modify the entries just enough so they’d appear reasonable to anyone looking for the obvious theft. I find no evidence of a second person being involved.”

“In that I concur, my lady,” Thomas added. “He did not take me into his confidence on this matter and I know of no one else whom he so trusted.”

“Perhaps we will never know what specifically led Prioress Felicia and Brother Rupert to their revelation,” Eleanor said.

Sister Anne frowned in thought.

Brother Thomas seemed lost in it. “I find it hard to believe that Eadnoth did not complain to anyone in authority at Tyndal,” he said. “How long could a parent turn his head in such a situation? To someone for whom hunger is so sharp that they will sell their child’s soul for a mouthful of food, money might buy silence for awhile, but such food would soon fill that mouth with worms.”

“As Gytha explained to me, we are still the conquerors in the eyes of many. We may think we treat all with courtesy and fairness, but, when it is Saxon versus Norman, the village believes we protect our own first. There may be some validity in their view.”

“And so they distrust the rulers of the priory.”

“Yes.”

“Although I do not dispute the boy’s story, my lady,” Thomas continued, “I find one thing strange. Eadnoth would have become a rich man if Simeon had given him all the money stolen from the priory. Yet he was dressed in rags, as is his son, while we must scrimp to have enough to buy food through the winter months.”

“Eadmund said his father could not use what he was given. The lad says Eadnoth went to the cliffs above the sea, and he watched while his father tossed the coin into the waves, screaming that Satan could take it all back and return his son’s soul and manhood.”

“Indeed, Eadnoth loved his son and would have lost his wits over these events,” Anne said. “Nonetheless, the sum does seem too vast for one bribe.”

“Or perhaps there were others Simeon paid to be silent,” Thomas muttered absently. “Others who have not and may never come forward out of fear and shame. The penalties for sodomy are dire ones. Had Eadmund been younger, he would have been found innocent, but he is just man enough to have lost that protection, and all Simeon’s victims might be of like age.” Thomas winced with unwelcome memories. “Our receiver might have saved his own life by showing sufficient contrition to the right bishop, but those of no influence suffer greatly: public excommunication, an edict announced in every church in the kingdom; to be forever shunned by family and friends. Willing or not, those he committed sodomy with would face hell both in this life and in the hereafter.”

Eleanor glanced at Thomas as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes closed. There was something odd in his tone, she thought. “Some probably went to worldly extravagance. Simeon is fond of fine plate and good wine. I have seen the gold goblets in the prior’s lodgings and the fine wines served, yet I use good pewter for my guests.”

Thomas opened his eyes and smiled at her, a look that gave more joy to her heart than it should.

“It seems the most influential visitors were entertained in the prior’s quarters by Brother Simeon,” Eleanor continued. “Prioress Felicia supped only with the wives and daughters, for whom fine red gold was not needed. But something else disturbs me. Brother Simeon is right-handed, yet you believe the murderer was left-handed, sister.”