Michael JECKS - The Devil's Acolyte

‘May I crave your generosity? I have been robbed, and my food and water were stolen. Could I share a little of your food with you?’

‘Certainly, sir. It is poor fare for a gentleman. Still, you are welcome to share what we have,’ Rudolf said.

Joce smiled, although he was thinking that this man was a fool. He would eat with them, drink with them, and then, when all was dark and these ignorant foreigners were asleep, he would take the pewter. Perhaps someone might wake – well, if they did, Joce would enjoy setting his blade across the man’s throat. It would be pleasant to kill again. There were many of them, and only one of him – but that didn’t concern Joce. He knew he was more than equal to them.

Coroner Roger lunged at the runaway horse and hauled on its reins, almost unseating himself as the wild animal pulled him and his own horse along. ‘I have it!’ he roared gleefully as he drew it to a slower pace, then to a canter, leaning over to pat the beast’s neck, wiping some of the foam and froth away.

‘This is my Sergeant’s mount,’ Sir Tristram said with icy calm.

‘Is he the sort of man to lose his horse?’ the Coroner asked, but even as he spoke his eyes caught sight of the stain. ‘Blood.’

‘Christ Jesus!’ The blasphemy was deserved. All along the horse’s flank was a great gout of blood.

‘I fear your man is dead,’ Coroner Roger said soberly.

‘Up there! Ah, by the devil’s cods, he must have got past all the men! Jack was up there as a last line to stop him. If he cut Jack down, he could be anywhere.’

‘Not anywhere,’ Roger said thoughtfully. ‘There are not that many paths from here. And the ground is quite damp. Let’s see if we can find out where he has gone.’

They left the runaway horse with another of Sir Tristram’s men and made their way back up the hill. The hoofprints were clear enough, for the horse had galloped wildly, each steel horseshoe cutting deeply into the soft, well-cropped grass, and they had no need of a tracker. They could ride at a gentle canter until they came to the body.

‘Dear God!’ Sir Tristram said with disgust.

‘It’s your man?’ the Coroner asked.

‘Yes. That looks like Jack’s body. But where’s his head?’

Coroner Roger jumped lightly from his horse and left the corpse, walking along the hoofprints until he came to a place where the blood lay thickly. ‘Here it is,’ he said, picking up Jack’s head. He set it with the body and gazed east. ‘That’s his direction. He’s going to Ashburton.’

‘Then let’s be after him!’ Sir Tristram grated. ‘I want his head.’

Simon and Baldwin entered the Abbot’s lodging after him, and while Abbot Robert roared for his Steward, the two sat in chairs near his table. When Augerus hurried inside, he was instantly sent out again to fetch wine. Meanwhile the Abbot instructed a messenger to collect Brother Peter.

That monk, when he entered, found himself being gazed at by the stern quartet of the Abbot, Baldwin, Simon, and Mark; the latter wore the most savage expression of them all, as though, Peter thought privately, he was determined to outdo all the others in righteous indignation.

‘My Lord Abbot, you asked for me?’ Peter asked, with apparent surprise. He had been warned, but their expressions were fearsome.

Augerus entered behind him, and now stood contemplating him with some surprise, a tray of cups and wine in his hands.

‘Wake up, Steward!’ the Abbot snapped. ‘Serve us. Brother Peter, I have had some alarming news. It is said that you knew who was stealing from me; that you have known for some time.’

Peter sniffed, his brows lifted. ‘It is true that I guessed, as you know, but I couldn’t swear to know for certain.’

‘How did you guess?’ the Abbot demanded, his face darkening.

‘My Lord Abbot, as I told you before, I saw Gerard and also Wally, taking goods. Thus when I spoke to Wally, his part was known to me, and he swore he’d fetch back the pewter.’

‘Brother Mark has said he thinks you were helping the thieves. Is this so?’ the Abbot rapped out.

‘No, it most certainly is not. I knew he was about, and for a short while I did wonder whether he could be involved, but now it seems…’

‘You decided he was not?’ Simon prompted.

Peter glanced at Mark with an apologetic smile. ‘It is hard to imagine someone less suited to clandestine work. He would always be too drunk later in the evening to be able to perform any quiet or secret operation without discovery.’

‘He was able to perform one,’ Simon said.

‘Oh, stealing the wine, yes,’ Peter said dismissively. ‘That was simple enough, though. Mark likes his drink too much to be able to leave it alone, and it was easy for him to persuade Augerus to get drunk with him one night, and then, when Augerus’ wits were entirely fuddled, get him to open up the undercroft and permit him to taste the wines.’

‘You knew of this?’ the Abbot said.

Peter shrugged uneasily. ‘I thought you yourself knew. Otherwise I shouldn’t have spoken. It is a matter for Mark and God. Not me.’

The Abbot slowly turned and stared at his salsarius . ‘I shall wish to speak with you, Brother,’ he said heavily before facing Peter again. ‘You say that Augerus let him in to drink my wine?’

‘I saw them.’

Augerus felt Abbot Robert’s eyes turn upon him, and hastily gabbled, ‘I am sorry, my Lord, but if I did let him in, it was because I was too drunk to realise! I could scarcely have wanted to let him in to take all your wine.’

‘Four times in a week?’ Peter murmured in surprise. ‘You must have been extremely drunk, Augerus.’

‘Is this true?’ the Abbot snarled. ‘You went to enjoy private parties in my undercroft each night?’

‘My Lord, I don’t know. All I know is, I woke up one morning and Mark there told me that I must replace all the wine from one barrel because he had finished it, and you had announced your imminent return. Oh, my Lord, don’t scold me and punish me for weakness – rather, punish the man who brought me down.’

‘What have you to say, Mark?’ the Abbot said.

The monk noted the absence of the fraternal title. ‘My Lord, I cannot lie to you. I did enjoy your wine. But that is all I have done, and I did tell you about Gerard. I couldn’t bring shame to this Abbey. I believe that Gerard was not alone in stealing. I believe he had an ally within who helped him pass the pewter out to Wally.’

‘That is something that troubled me,’ Simon said. ‘How would Gerard have come to know Wally? Surely someone would have needed to introduce them? And then, how would Gerard have gained access to the lodgings here? Would he not have found the doors barred and locked?’

‘Yes,’ the Abbot said with a frown. ‘In your drunkenness, you must have left the doors open, Augerus.’

‘Perhaps that is why Mark insisted on ensuring I was drunk, my Lord,’ Augerus said with a shocked expression. ‘He wanted to give Gerard access to the rooms so that he could pass the stolen things to Wally.’

Simon chuckled. ‘This is a fine muddle, my Lord. But we do know some facts. First, that Mark can be persuaded to accept a drink of any sort.’ He ignored a huffy grunt from the salsarius . ‘Second, that it would be easy for Gerard to get in here, if he had an accomplice inside your lodgings. We also know that the thefts were tied to Wally’s death, and that Hamelin also died because of the thefts.’

‘Why?’

‘Hamelin had been given the money, but I think that the money was a secondary motive. If his killer had found it, he would have kept it, but the money itself wasn’t the reason for the murder. I think he had to die because he saw Mark up at Wally’s house that day. But Ellis saw two monks. We know what Mark was doing, he was trying to force Wally to bring back the pewter, but what about the other man? We know Peter was on the moors – but what if there was a third? Perhaps Hamelin saw him too. And which other monk was not in the Abbey that day? Augerus.’