Priscilla Royal - Sanctity of Hate

“Whose?” Signy’s tone announced that she had ceased jesting.

“Kenelm’s body was found in the priory mill pond this morning. His throat was cut.”

The news caused a flutter of surprise to cross her face. “No one will weep when he hears that news,” she said. “I pray the killer did not have just cause for his deed, else many will protest his hanging for it.”

“I know he was disliked, yet he must not have been without some merit. You told me you had hired him when the Jews traveled through here on their way to Norwich after their expulsion from nearby towns.”

“And hired him again when another small party of them arrived a few nights ago.” She shook her head with contempt. “You speak of merit, but Kenelm’s merit lay solely in his broad shoulders, strong cudgel, and deep love for shiny coin. Many in this village have no tolerance for the Jews. Since my wages were high enough, he was willing to guard them against injury and theft.”

The Crowner scowled. “Why is there so much ill-will here against the king’s people? They have never lived in Tyndal, nor are they ever like to do so. No one has suffered from their practice of usury. Men of higher rank were the ones to quarrel with the Jews over debts, not ones like our blacksmith, Hob, or the new wheelwright.”

Signy glanced quickly over her shoulder. “As I learned from a merchant passing through, the king ordered that the Jews give up usury and earn their bread by other labor. One of his unfortunate suggestions seems to have been that they might toil in the fields. The rumor spreads that Christians will be forced to sell or even give up land and other property to them without due recompense. One fisherman has hidden his boat so he won’t have to surrender it.”

“That is untrue! When King Edward declared that the Jews might take land, he meant that they could buy it with proper compensation and only from willing sellers. No one will be forced to give up anything.”

“Then you know the exact words of this statute?”

He nodded. “When I was in Norwich, my brother and I discussed the implications at length. It was our duty to administer the statute as the king intended.”

“The villagers are not so well informed, Ralf, and, as you should know, good sense rarely wins after rumor surrounds men with thick walls of fear.”

Lifting his pitch-coated leather jack, Ralf swallowed the last of his ale and stared around the inn. Other than the pilgrims and traveling merchants, he knew the men here, some from childhood but the rest for years enough to know they were neither better nor worse than God’s average creation. And that meant they were as capable of hate as they were of love.

He rubbed his hand over his bristled cheeks and turned back to the innkeeper. “Yet you gave safe haven to the Jews on their way to Norwich. Why not tell them to pass on, that there was no room in your inn?”

Signy did not reply and turned instead to gesture to a boy who was carefully transporting a jug through the crowd. The child nodded in acknowledgement, delivered his burden, and quickly wove through the groups of men to her side.

“Bring our crowner a half jug of the best ale, Nute,” she said and smiled at her foster child.

“I would be most grateful.” Ralf added a comradely wink.

Blushing with happiness, the boy disappeared.

Ralf looked back at Signy and waited to see if she would reply to his question or continue to avoid the subject.

She was studying him with amusement. “It is time you married again and had a son of your own, Crowner.”

He was not ready for this. Turning scarlet, Ralf croaked a protest.

“Shush.” She swatted at him as if waving aside a fly. “Do not prove yourself more of a fool than I know you are. If you do not soon take Mistress Gytha to wife, she will wed a merchant who will thumb his nose at you as he takes her far away. You have delayed unreasonably, and the maiden is too worthy to remain unwed much longer.”

The crowner’s mouth became too dry for speech.

Signy held his gaze for a long moment, then she twisted around to watch Nute at the far side of the inn. When she looked back, her eyes had softened. “That boy and his sister are my joys,” she murmured. “He is eager to learn the business of inn-keeping. I have just set him the work of collecting empty pitchers for cleaning and bringing the occasional order of small jugs.”

“A good’un you have.” Ralf said and waited for his answer. Signy had delayed long enough to consider her reply.

“You asked why I housed Jews when the village would have praised me for telling them to sleep in the outlaw-infested woodland instead.”

Ralf knew Signy had meant no harm with that sharp jab about Gytha, but he also suspected she was uneasy over the question about the Jews. The concern for her friend may have come from the heart, but it had also succeeded in putting him off-balance and less able to pry when she did answer his question. He quietly forgave the stratagem and nodded.

Signy tilted her head and let silence again fall between them. After a quick glance to see who might be seated nearby, she leaned closer to reply. “They asked only for shelter from the bitter wind and dry straw on which to sleep one night.” She studied the palm of her hand. “God has blessed me with prosperity, and I had just bought much of the land surrounding this inn, before their exodus to Norwich, but could do little with it because of the winter season.”

Nute suddenly appeared at Ralf’s side, his expression grave as he lifted the jug as high as he could. The crowner quickly relieved him of his burden and whispered thanks in the lad’s ear, taking the opportunity to slip a shiny object into the small fist. Nute grinned and rushed off, carefully avoiding Signy’s eyes.

“That coin was unnecessary, Crowner, but any gift from you is cherished. He’ll save it, not spend.” Pressing a finger into the corner of one eye, she smiled. “He worships you.”

For all the sins he had committed against this woman in the past, cruelties she had reasons never to forgive, he knew he would always be bonded to Signy in ways undefined by any known word. Nute had certainly earned a place in his heart, but any kindness he showed the lad was meant for this woman as well.

She blinked, as if a dust mote had stung her eyes, and then stiffened her back. “In brief, Crowner, I saw something to gain from their need and charged them for each service. I hired a guard to keep them safe, their animals were cared for, and I offered wine to banish the cold. For all this, I found profit in land that would be otherwise useless until spring. To anyone who criticizes me in this, I reply that my actions were nothing more than good business.”

“Or else it was charity,” Ralf whispered.

Signy gripped her hands until the knuckles turned bone-white.

Although her quiet kindness to the unfortunate had made her beloved in the village, he was sure she must have been condemned, her faith even questioned, for sheltering a despised people. This was not the first time he had cause to admire her courage.

Leaning forward, the inn-keeper replied, her voice so soft he could barely hear the words: “I will tell you this, my Lord Crowner. Never once did a Jew feel up a serving woman, vomit on my floor from too much drink, or fail to pay what was owed and with courtesy. There are many Christian men for whom I could not say the same.”

“I must still ask why you hired Kenelm to be a guard, a man known to cheat and, aye, steal from honest men.”

“I never paid him until he performed the task, and I paid him more than he could get elsewhere. Had I found any other man willing to do the work, I would never have hired him.”

“And you again asked him to do the same for these latest arrivals, a group that must have hurried on by now for they have long delayed obedience to the king’s orders.” He frowned. Need he chase after these people and investigate that matter, too?