Edward Marston - The Owls of Gloucester

‘And the Archdeacon of Gwent,’ noted Gervase. ‘He not only dived into the river to help me, he swam after the boat and clambered abroad to steer it back to the shore. Abraham the Priest is a born sailor.’

Canon Hubert snorted. ‘And all this when he was stark naked?

Hardly fit behaviour for a monk. I suppose that we may be glad that he did not feel obliged to deliver another baby at the same time.’

‘A baby, Canon Hubert?’ queried the abbot.

‘A private jest, Abbot Serlo.’

‘We are sorry that you were not there with us, Hubert,’ teased Ralph. ‘Our efforts really needed the controlling hand of the leader of the murder investigation.’

There were five visitors in the abbot’s lodging. Ralph, Gervase and Hubert had been joined by Bishop Wulfstan and Brother Frewine. The two older men heaped their own congratulations on the commissioners.

‘No mercy will be shown to them,’ promised Wulfstan. ‘Strang the Dane and his henchman will be tried, convicted and hanged.

A lot of parents will sleep more soundly after this day’s work.’

‘So will the monks of this abbey,’ said Frewine softly. ‘With your permission, Father Abbot, I would like to put a question of my own to these three heroes.’ Hubert basked in his inclusion.

‘We now know that it was Strang who was seen arguing with Brother Nicholas and that he killed our holy brother. But why?

The motive is unclear.’

‘It was to us,’ admitted Gervase. ‘At first.’

‘But I got the truth out of him,’ boasted Ralph. ‘It is amazing how willing some people are to talk when they have a swordpoint at their throat. Strang was furious with Brother Nicholas. He had waited patiently until it was safe to abduct another novice from the abbey, knowing that your rent collector would have won the confidence of his next victim. But Nicholas betrayed him.

Having befriended Owen for the purpose of selling him to Strang, he grew to like the boy too much and Owen, in turn, became fond of him. They were like father and son, meeting in secret at night in the bell tower just to be together. When Strang tried to force Nicholas to hand the boy over, he refused. He could not bear to part with a child he had come to love.’

‘He had some glimmer of humanity, then,’ observed Wulfstan.

‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘Owen adored him. He would not hear a word against his friend. Brother Nicholas, apparently, gave him a coin as a memento. It was the most precious thing Owen possessed. He told us that he buried it in the grave.’

Abbot Serlo was troubled. ‘That is a commendable gesture but it concerns me that a novice should believe that money is more precious than serving God in all humility. Owen has much to learn.’

‘Adversity has already been a strict teacher,’ said Frewine. ‘But do continue, my lord,’ he invited, turning to Ralph again. ‘I do not believe that you finished what you were saying.’

‘Gervase has told you the bulk of it, Brother Frewine,’ said Ralph. ‘And let me confess to you all that I misjudged your rent collector. When I heard the rumours about him, I thought his interest in young boys had an unnatural side to it. Which it did, in a sense, because what is more unnatural than selling them into slavery? But he had no designs on their innocence, Owen assured us of that. They just sat together and talked. Nothing more occurred. The closeness of their friendship may have annoyed Strang but it also gave him his opportunity.’

‘In what way?’ said Hubert.

‘He knew that Owen would want to mourn Brother Nicholas.

The only way that he could do that alone was to visit the grave or the church at night. Strang rightly guessed that the boy might be on the loose and he lay in ambush.’ He touched the bruise on his chin. ‘Strang is a powerful man, I can vouch for that. Owen had no chance against him.’

‘This has all ended most satisfactorily,’ said Abbot Serlo. ‘I am so grateful that Canon Hubert took an interest in this whole business.’

‘My colleagues are the real heroes,’ said Hubert with false modesty. ‘But I like to feel that I set everything in train. What pleases me is that my earlier judgement was proved sound.’

‘What earlier judgement?’

‘The same one you made yourself, Abbot Serlo. That the killer could not possibly have been a Benedictine monk?’

‘Yet he was,’ said Ralph. ‘When he committed murder and abducted a novice, Strang the Dane was wearing a cowl. To all intents and purposes, he was one of you.’

A loud chorus of protest came from Serlo, Wulfstan, Hubert and Frewine. It was left to Gervase to provide the balm to their injured pride.

‘Cuchullus non facit monachum ,’ he said.

The quartet smiled instantly and clapped in approval.

‘What does it mean, Gervase?’ asked Ralph.

‘The hood does not make a monk.’

When he was summoned that evening by the Master of the Novices, Kenelm walked towards Brother Paul’s lodging on unsteady feet. He was certain that a long overdue punishment would now be administered. It was not only because he had twice ventured out of the dormitory at night that he feared reprisal.

What terrified him most was the thought that the strong-armed Brother Paul had caught wind of his earlier vow to flee from the abbey. Kenelm had changed his mind about that but he doubted if the master would give him time to explain. The mere suggestion of him absconding would be enough to stir his ire. As he knocked on Brother Paul’s door, Kenelm could almost hear the swish of the birch rod. Sweat ran freely down his back like so much blood.

The door opened and the bushy eyebrows lifted with pleasure.

‘Kenelm!’ greeted Brother Paul. ‘Come on in!’

He stood back to reveal another visitor. Seated in a corner was the waif-like figure of Owen, released from his torment and restored once more to the abbey. Kenelm was so pleased to see him again that he burst into tears. Brother Paul eased him forward.

‘Why not give him a proper welcome?’ he suggested.

Kenelm darted forward as Owen rose to his feet. They embraced warmly and held each other for a long time. Kenelm was thrilled to see him back in the safety of the cloister but it was Owen who had the greater delight. In that involuntary hug, a whole list of past slights was forgotten and forgiven. Kenelm liked him now.

Owen had a new friend.

It was a splendid feast with an appropriate air of celebration this time. His business in Gloucester concluded, King William was able to relax, and he presided happily over the banquet in the hall at the castle. They were all there: Durand the Sheriff, the nominal host, sat beside the King, with his wife on the other side of their guest. The other three members of the council were in attendance, Bishop Wulfstan among them, at last persuaded, to the advantage of all within reach of him, to remove his malodorous cloak while he was at table. Ralph, Gervase and Golde sat together. Canon Hubert had accepted the invitation to join them, as had Abbot Serlo, but Brother Simon had not dared to quit the abbey. Hubert felt his decision wise. Among the other guests were Hamelin of Lisieux and his wife. Unable to take his own eyes from the lady Emma, Hubert kept telling himself how much the scribe would be suffering if he were there.

Though the King was the guest of honour, he graciously directed attention to the commissioners, praising them for their good offices in solving two crimes and liberating the abbey from the grip of fear. Serlo was pleased with all he heard, but Hubert was peeved that his name was not mentioned and Durand was positively writhing with suppressed fury at the way Ralph and Gervase were garlanded for succeeding in duties that rightly fell to him. The sheriff’s fury was increased when he saw that Nigel the Reeve was enjoying his discomfiture so openly.