Priscilla Royal - Sanctity of Hate

“Let Brother Thomas calm Adelard so he will answer my questions when he awakens after taking Annie’s sleeping potion. I am hoping he has seen something that will lead us to the killer of both your lay brother and Kenelm. Were I to guess at the meaning of the attack on the baker’s son, I would say that Jacob ben Asser may have saved the boy’s life by appearing before another blow was struck. In the dark, I had the impression I had seen someone run away.”

“The youth has much to learn, but our good monk believes there may be some hope for him. Brother Thomas will do his best to encourage him to cooperate with you.” She looked kindly at the crowner. “And will you seek your bed as well, Ralf?”

He bowed. “I shall go question my prisoner. Since he is of the Jewish faith, he may not claim the right to confess his sins to a priest and keep them private.” His lips twisted into a thin smile. “Since I seek a murderer, I am most grateful for that.”

Tostig reached for a thick iron rod when he heard the sound of someone at the door.

Ralf stopped in the entrance and raised his hands. “A friend!”

Putting his weapon down, Gytha’s brother invited the crowner to join him.

“Drinking with the prisoner?” Ralf stared at Jacob sitting on a bench with a mazer of ale in his hand.

Tostig raised a jug and gestured to an empty cup.

“My throat is dry enough. I would be grateful for that.” Ralf walked over and took the proffered cup for his friend to fill. Drinking deeply, he turned back to the seated man.

Even as the pale light of early morning strengthened, Jacob’s face lacked color. “My family?”

“They are well,” Ralf said. “Prioress Eleanor has sent to the stable several young lay brothers with strength aplenty and permission enough to break bones. But, as I heard her tell it, their faces are so angelic that villagers might pause before throwing rocks at them lest they be true messengers from God.”

“Your prioress has been kind.”

“She believes in the perfection of God’s justice and has little tolerance for flawed mortal judgments.” He slid onto the bench across the table from Jacob. “If you are innocent, she will protect you. If not, she’ll beg me to hang you.”

“There is more ale there,” Tostig said, pointing to a corner of the house. “Above you, out of the way of mice, are bread and cheese to break your fast. I’ll walk to the inn for some of Mistress Signy’s fare and listen for the latest rumors on these crimes.” He slapped the crowner on the shoulder. “I may even tell you what I learn.” Then he grinned and left.

“He has been a kind jailor.” Jacob ran his mazer around in a circle on the table.

“Not all Christians own horns and forked tails.”

The man smiled briefly, but the weight of his situation lay too heavily on his heart for true levity.

“I have oft wondered if you portray us the way we depict you.”

Jacob stiffened with wariness. “Do you think we would so brazenly mock Christians, an act for which we would surely be punished, when we are set on fire, beaten, and hanged for crimes we have not committed?”

Ralf retrieved the suspended food and brought it back to the table. “Not openly, but all men try to shine with virtue in the world. In private, their deeds are more rank.” He pulled out his knife and hacked slices of both bread and cheese, pushing some toward Jacob. He paused. “Your religion forbids so much. Dare you eat here?”

Jacob’s lips twitched briefly. “I am not required to starve to death in extreme situations, but the good innkeeper has provided us with fish from the stream, fresh summer fruits and vegetables so we might prepare them in accordance with our law. While I am in this house, Tostig will allow our maid to bring me food cooked in our own pot.” Looking at the proffered cheese and bread, he thanked the crowner for his kindness and gently refused.

Ralf hesitated and then shrugged. “Are you truly innocent of any crime since you came to Tyndal village?”

“No simple aye or nay would be an adequate reply. May I answer in my own way?”

The crowner nodded and bit into the moist cheese.

“Why would I kill the very guard set by the innkeeper to protect us? And, having seen how the men of this village reacted to that man’s death, why would I kill the young man I found outside our shelter?” He took a sip from his cup. “My wife was heavy with child when we arrived. Later, she delivered after a hard labor, a birth that almost killed her. We cannot leave until she gains strength. Would I be so foolish as to kill two men in such circumstances and endanger those I cherish more than my own life?”

“The village concludes that you have killed Kenelm and, when they learn of it, will decide the same about Adelard.”

“The village believes I killed the guard simply because he was a Christian. Presumably, they will think I killed the youth because we failed to convert when he demanded we do so.” Jacob threw his hands up in disgust. “Crowner, we do not poison wells. We do not use Christian blood for Passover baking. It is my people who have died by Christian swords, not the reverse. Since truth has been murdered by ignorance and justice blinded by sanctified hate, how can any of us defend ourselves?” He shook his head. “And I should have said none of that to you, but I am weary of having to cut myself again and again to prove that I bleed like any other man.”

Ralf poured ale into the man’s cup. “It matters not whether I dislike you for your beliefs. It is my duty to render justice whether or not I like a man. I have hanged Christians, found guilty of great crimes, with whom I might otherwise have shared a jug of ale. As Crowner, I take no joy in watching a man strangle on a rope for a wrong he did not commit.”

Jacob nodded.

“So tell me all that you know about the deaths of your guard and the baker’s son. If you are guilty, confess it. I shall then take you to the gallows, but on my oath as a man born of an honorable father, I promise that your family will be safely returned to Norwich. If you are innocent, you shall go with them.”

“Then ask what you need to know, and that may freshen my memory. I swear I am innocent of disobeying the commandment we all honor, but I shall reply honestly.” Jacob drained his mazer.

Ralf poured more for both of them. “Let us begin with Kenelm. He mocked you. You did strike him in anger. Perhaps he died by accident and you wished to hide the deed, not trusting the rule of law here.”

“I could not have killed him. As I told you, my wife was weak and suffering before she gave birth. I did not leave her side. Sadly, the only witnesses for the entire time are my wife, her mother, and perhaps our servant who is barely more than a child.” He thought for a moment. “The innkeeper did visit several times. She feared she might have to be midwife.” He glanced down at his mazer and grew pensive.

Ralf watched him, waited, and then lost patience. “You have something to say. If you want to hang before your babe leaves his mother’s breast, then remain silent.” He leaned forward. “But while you decide how much you dare trust me with any confidence, remember this. A nun saved your wife and child. A prioress has sent her lay brothers to guard your family from riots. A king’s man has given his word to return your kin, alive and well, to the safety of Norwich even if you do hang. Is that not the kind of justice you seek?”

“And what if the truth were to cast a shadow on your priory? Would a Christian take the word of a Jew or is it more likely that I would be condemned simply because I dared speak of it?”

“Prioress Eleanor does not turn her face from unhappy truths. I will judge the meaning of what you claim.” Ralf knew he had spoken firmly, but he clutched his hands together lest they tremble.