Michael JECKS - The Devil's Acolyte

‘It made me think that I had misjudged him, or that he wasn’t prepared to confess with honesty, but… perhaps his memory was playing him false. It can do things like that to people. I don’t know. Certainly he appeared greatly upset when I left him. He was sitting at his stool, weighing his purse in his hand unhappily.’

The next morning, when Augerus woke, he remembered the corpse and shuddered. He had seen Wally’s body being brought in, but had hurried away before the poor devil’s ruined remains could be uncovered. He had known Wally as a sort of business associate, a drinking companion, too, well enough to not want to see the wreck of his body out in the open like this. Reaching the Abbot’s undercroft, he had unlocked the door and entered, pulling the door closed behind him and leaning on it, panting heavily. With the little cup he used for tasting the quality of the wines in the barrels, he had drawn off a good measure of the strongest, red spiced wine, and sank it at a gulp, grateful for the warmth that spread through his body, driving off the chill fear.

Now, in the first light of a chilly grey morning, he felt a queasiness in his belly at the thought of what had happened to Wally, although in his drowsy state he couldn’t deny a stab of pleasure at the way he had treated Joce.

He had given the bastard a shock, a real good one. Standing there and grabbing Augerus like he was some menial who had misbehaved! The thought that Gerard might tell everyone about their little game hadn’t occurred to him, not until Augerus had made him see sense. Now maybe he’d get rid of all the stuff quickly. Before it could be found! Augerus reflected for a moment on the enraged features of his accomplice as he’d held him by the throat up against his front door. Joce could fly off the handle at a moment’s notice.

When he had attended the morning Mass and seen to the Abbot’s breakfast, he pottered for a while in the undercroft, then went to visit Mark. The salsarius was welcoming enough, but he too appeared to have his mind on other things, and after only one bowl of wine and a few slices of dry-cured ham Augerus left him to it. He wanted to visit the parish church to see Wally and pray over him.

He entered the dark church with a feeling of sadness. After making the obeisances, he walked down the aisle to where Wally’s body lay, lighted by the guttering candles. It was gloomy here today, with so little light. Clouds smothered the sun and the great windows with the coloured pictures depicting scenes from the Bible all seemed grim and accusing. As they should be, Augerus nodded to himself, bearing in mind how much this man had stolen from the Abbey.

The sight of a decomposed body was not so uncommon that it was a shock, but to see old Wally lying here was depressing. This was the man with whom he had so often enjoyed a drink, the pal with whom he had swapped jokes and stories around the fireside. Later on, Wally had become his partner in crime, the accomplice with whom he had robbed the Abbey’s guests.

The loss of a partner was always sad, he thought to himself. Even if the thieving bastard had tried to gull him, taking a larger share of the proceeds than he should. And there was the wine, too. It was hard to forgive him that. Pinching the good Abbot’s wine was a sick joke. Even now, Augerus wasn’t sure how he’d managed it. Somehow he must have used Gerard. Jesu! But the lad was a marvel! So slim he could even wriggle through the metal bars at the Abbot’s own undercroft, with a bit of squirming. And then he had the brains to take whatever he had been told, even when he must have been terrified of being discovered.

The acolyte was a natural, although, of course, he had needed to be broken in carefully. That Ned talked about breaking in horses gently, but he had no idea. Taking a dumb brute like a horse in hand was one thing; a boy was quite another. Augerus had been looking for a lad like him for an age.

It hadn’t been easy to start with. The boy had been tough to persuade. In fact, the first thing Augerus had wheedled him into doing was to take a little rosary of Augerus’ own, which he had loaned Brother Mark, with the promise that it would make Mark laugh. And it did, for Augerus played a little with Mark, making a wager that he had lost it. When Mark couldn’t find it, Augerus made up a story about how Mark had dropped it from his habit, and Augerus had seen it fall and picked it up again. Easy. It allayed Mark’s concerns when Augerus refused to allow him to honour the wager, thereby convincing the salsarius that all was well, while at the same time demonstrating to Gerard that taking things could be fun.

Next it had been a loaf of bread. That wasn’t so difficult. There were plenty of them, and one thing that could be guaranteed about acolytes was that they were always hungry. Too much food, it was thought, made a lad drowsy and ruined his concentration. It had been easy to tell Gerard that the baker had bet no one would dare to take one of his loaves, and that no one could break in through the bars over his windows. As soon as Gerard heard that, he had willingly agreed to prove him wrong.

Then, Augerus said, the baker refused to believe that one had gone. He told the Steward that he was lying, and what could Augerus do? Obviously he must prove it beyond a doubt. So Gerard must, for a joke, steal three more loaves: one for himself, one for Augerus, and one for the baker. That would convince him. And if the baker still doubted, why, Gerard could climb in there right before his eyes!

Gerard had thought this a great lark. He laughed delightedly when Augerus explained the cunning plan. Gerard climbed up through the window again, with Augerus, and passed the loaves to him through the bars; afterwards, he had squeezed himself out again. Chuckling quietly, he scampered back to Augerus’ chamber, giggling to himself at the thought of the baker’s face when he saw the three loaves gone.

Except when they got back to Augerus’ room, the Steward ate a half loaf and persuaded Gerard to eat another. The acolyte balked at first, but then his hunger got the better of him and he set to. And as he finished his meal, Augerus told him the truth.

‘I think we’d better keep this secret between us, boy.’

‘Between us and the baker, you mean.’

‘No, between us alone. I wouldn’t want to see you thrown out of the Abbey, or dumped on the Scilly Isles, far from anyone and with only pirates in your congregation.’

The poor dolt had stared at him as if he was mad. ‘Why should that happen to me? I’ve done nothing wrong!’

‘You have stolen bread from the mouths of beggars.’

‘But you told me to! It’s for a joke!’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I? But I forgot to let the baker in on the joke, I am afraid, so you see, you are a thief. And that will mean you’ll be punished.’

That was the difficult moment. Augerus had done this before, and he knew that as the bait was snapped up, the fish could slip off the hook and run off. Some had done so before. They had stood up to him and stared him down, threatening to go straight to the Abbot and denounce him. To his credit, Gerard tried that, but when he did, Augerus merely laughed.

‘Fine, my cocky. You tell him anything you like. And I shall tell him that I caught you stealing from the baker. And that I caught you stealing my rosary from Brother Mark, but that I concealed your crime because I thought I could help you come to a state of grace. We’ll see whom it is the Abbot trusts most. An acolyte, or his favoured Steward.’

After that it had been easy. For a share of the rewards, the boy had stolen any little trinkets he was told to. His nimble fingers and sharp wits meant that there was a steady stream of goods arriving at Augerus’ door. And as soon as they arrived, they were parcelled up and pushed out through the little window that gave onto the orchard, where Wally would collect it and convey it to Joce. Never too much, only small items, and only ever just after a large service with many people, so that it would be impossible to guess who might have been the thief. That was the way of it.