Edward Marston: The Serpents of Harbledown

“Who told you all this?”

“Canon Hubert.”

“Flogged in public?”

“Mercilessly. And then evicted from the Order.”

Ralph was shocked. “Lanfranc has decided this?”

“Yes.”

“But Hubert told us the man was a saint.”

“Even saints can lose their temper at times.”

“I am sorry for the leader of this revolt,” said Ralph, “but I am heartened to know that there is steel in the good archbishop. If this is how he treats his own monks, imagine how much more ruthless he will be towards Philippe Berbizier and his accomplices.

Flogging would be too light a sentence for him. I would happily be his executioner.”

“Leave him to the rigour of the law and the condemnation of the Church,” suggested Gervase. “We have done our share.

Bertha’s death is answered and her father can die in peace.

Brother Martin’s murder has been solved and the church of St.

Nicholas is once again unpolluted.”

“Golde’s sufferings have been avenged as well. She is now free to help Eadgyth in a pressing task.”

“Looking after the baby?”

“No, Gervase. Finding a new doctor.”

Canon Hubert sailed in with Brother Simon. Both wore stern expressions and gave only muted greetings. It was evident that they were deeply embarrassed by Lanfranc’s difficulties with perverse monks. Ralph spread a little early-morning unease.

“What is your view of clerical marriage, Hubert?” he said.

“It is expressly forbidden,” said Hubert.

“Do you support that edict?”

“To the hilt. A priest should be pure and unsullied. Like myself and Brother Simon here.”

“But what of a priest, for the sake of argument, who fell in love before Archbishop Lanfranc made his decree? Imagine his plight.

He is betrothed at an early age and wants nothing more than to share his life, his work and his bed with his beloved. Then along comes this ruling from above and he learns that he is divorced before he is even married.”

“He must renounce the girl.”

“Supposing he is not willing?”

“His duty is simple. He has no choice.”

“He can resign his ministry,” noted Gervase.

“There is a third way,” said Ralph mischievously. “What if he were to remain a priest but marry in secret?”

“An abomination!” exclaimed Brother Simon.

“He would not be able to serve God properly.”

“But he would be able to serve his wife.”

“My lord!” blustered Hubert.

“I merely put a case to you.”

“If you know of such a one, he must be reported to the archbishop forthwith. Carnal knowledge is unbecoming in a man of God. Do you have a priest in mind?”

“No, Canon Hubert,” said Gervase, jumping in quickly. “Ralph is teasing you. In any case, would Archbishop Lanfranc really have time for such a minor malefactor when he has so much else on his hands? Heresy in the city and dissension at the abbey will keep his mind occupied for some time.”

“That is true, Gervase.”

Osbern the Reeve appeared at the door to await orders. They took their seats and brought out documents from their satchels to set on the table before them. As Hubert put some charters in front of him, he noted the neat repair in the sleeve of his cowl.

“I am deeply grateful to your wife, my lord.”

“Golde insisted on sewing up your sleeve herself. I got it slashed while trying to save her. Your cowl had many exciting adventures while I wore it.”

“I am glad that it has been restored to me.”

“Even though you may think it contaminated?”

“By what, my lord?”

“The very thing you spoke of just now. Marriage.”

“I do not understand.”

“When I rescued Golde, I did so as Canon Hubert. She was so relieved to see me that she embraced me warmly. A dagger is not the only thing which touched your cowl. It has felt the true warmth of marital passion.”

Brother Simon was outraged and Canon Hubert began to pat himself all over as if he had a wasp inside his cowl. Ralph rocked with laughter. Having thoroughly upset the pair of them, he signalled to Osbern to bring in the first witness. Then he turned to nudge Gervase.

“Do not fear,” he whispered. “I would never betray our wanton priest. Every man is entitled to keep one big secret.”

Gervase thought of Alain at the leper hospital.

“Yes,” he said. “Just one.”