Michael JECKS - The Leper's Return

“But when you went to his house?”

“I ran round there to confront him, not save the bastard! The place was in a mess. Cecily was apparently coming round, and her maid came downstairs as I walked in. William here was with me. I told him to carry Cecily to her chamber, and while they were gone Godfrey began to groan.

“I was angry. Furious! That’s my only excuse. As soon as he started making a noise, a red rage overcame me. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise; I couldn’t have.”

“You hit him with what – a stick?”

In answer Coffyn jerked his head at the fire. “It was a blackthorn cudgel. I used to carry it with me all the time, but when I saw what I’d done, I couldn’t keep it. The ball of the handle was smothered in gore, and I couldn’t bear to use it again, so I broke it over my knee and threw it into Godfrey’s fire.”

“While your man went off to fetch the constable?”

“Yes. Just as a good citizen should. And when he arrived, I told him I’d found Godfrey already dead while the other two were merely wounded. And I walked home.”

He broke off and glowered at the knight. “I don’t regret it, Sir Baldwin. Godfrey was an evil, money-grabbing bastard. He shafted me in business, and then shafted my wife as well. It wasn’t that he made me a fool, I could cope with that happily enough. No, it was that he took everything I had – money, marriage, everything! I killed him with as little compunction as I would have killed a beetle.”

“And what of John?”

“John of Irelaunde?” Coffyn glanced up uncomprehendingly. “That shady little bugger? What of him?”

“He was innocent of any involvement with your wife, yet you were happy to let others circulate the rumor that he had enjoyed an affair with her…”

“That was the reputation he had cultivated for himself, Sir Knight.”

“But you were happy to go to his house and beat him, merely to deflect attention from yourself, weren’t you? You knew perfectly well he had nothing to do with your wife’s infidelity when you gave him that savage clubbing.”

Simon let his hand fall on his friend’s shoulder. Baldwin’s voice had taken on a cold precision as the anger began to overtake him. Feeling Simon’s hand, the knight took a deep breath and forced himself to relax a little.

Coffyn sat shaking his head, nibbling hard at a tiny shred of thumbnail. “I had to make sure you thought I was convinced of his guilt. If I did nothing about the Irishman, you might have realized I knew about Godfrey.”

“Yes. That was why you were so careful to let him see you. It was important that he should be able to swear that you were his attacker.” Baldwin stood, and his voice dropped. “Well, Matthew Coffyn, you have made a full confession, but it only serves to highlight your guilt. You were prepared to almost kill John without justification; to steal your neighbor’s plate; and to commit murder. There is only one penalty for all that – the rope!”

Ralph had finished tidying his chapel when Mary entered. She walked quietly to the body at the hearse and stood there, shaking her head with grief.

“Mary, I am so very sorry.”

“He had such a little life.”

“But he has a great life now,” he reminded her.

“I am grateful for that.”

He could hear the doubt in her voice. “Mary, don’t believe what the uneducated say about lepers: Edmund wasn’t evil. He was certainly not a great sinner, for he followed Christ’s teaching. He turned the other cheek; he allowed another to kill him without using his own weapon in defense. He died refusing to protect himself from another’s attack. Christ would revere young Edmund as a friend.”

“I am glad for that,” she said quietly.

Her tears appeared to be a relief to her. Ralph thought her sadness looked overwhelming, but her eyes held gratitude too, as if in the midst of her misery she was glad to have known her man. “What will you do now?” he asked.

“With Jack gone, I don’t think anyone else will make my life too difficult, but I haven’t changed my mind.”

“You will go to the convent?”

“Yes. The Bishop has promised to find me a position with one of the convents in his diocese. I will spend my time praying for Edmund and helping others who are sick. After my treatment recently I feel I can understand the suffering of others. Maybe I can help them.”

“I will pray for you.”

“Thank you, Brother. That would mean much to me.”

She closed her eyes and knelt before the altar, and Ralph quietly left her. Outside the clear weather appeared to be breaking at last, and heavy gray clouds were hanging almost motionless in the air. He took in the view for a while, tugging his robes tighter around his body against the bitter wind.

Seeing a figure near the gate, Ralph frowned quickly, then strolled over to him. “Thomas?”

“It is no good, Brother. My mind is made up. After what has happened here, I think I would always be a reminder of the attack, and that can’t be good for the camp or for the town.”

“And you fear that you’ll cause her more hurt?”

“What can I offer her? She’s still young. Let her become a widow once more. If she tries to stay with me, she will be devoting her life to suffering. It’s not right.”

“I think you are right. And I wish you godspeed, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

Ralph noticed that a monk was walking toward them. It wasn’t the almoner, for Ralph would have recognized his bent back and slightly shuffling gait. This man walked with a spring in his step. As he came closer, he hailed Ralph. “Brother, may I speak to you a moment?”

Shrugging, Ralph joined him at the gate. Rodde waited patiently, his attention fixed on the town’s smoke in the distance. When he was called, he was surprised, but he ambled over willingly enough, although the suppressed excitement in Ralph’s voice made him wary.

“Thomas, this brother would like to have a word with you.”

Margaret walked slowly with Jeanne through the knight’s orchard. The clouds overhead tried to cast a gloomy atmosphere over the area, but Margaret couldn’t sense it. She was still filled with delight over the news of the night before.

“When will you arrange the celebration?”

Jeanne giggled. “I don’t know! Perhaps early in the New Year. I would like to wed in springtime. It seems best to marry when the flowers are springing up and the leaves are bright and fresh. A new year for beginning a new life – it seems appropriate, doesn’t it?”

“Most appropriate! And I will look forward to it.”

“So will I. He is a good man.”

“He is,” Margaret smiled. “You have won the heart of a kind and noble gentleman.”

“I am glad you think so too. It would be horrible to find myself attached to another man like my first husband,” Jeanne said with a shudder.

Margaret put her arm round her friend’s shoulder. “You can forget your past now. Baldwin will be a good husband for you.”

They were coming close to the house again, and in the doorway they saw Hugh helping Wat to bring in wood. The dour servant nodded to his mistress, before shepherding the boy inside.

“Is that man always so miserable?” Jeanne whispered.

“Oh yes,” Margaret laughed. “He was born with a sour apple in his mouth and the flavor has never left him!”

They went through into the house and along the screens. In the hall Wat was tending to the fire under Hugh’s supervision. Hugh rolled his eyes at his mistress as the women passed the doorway.

“I think when you are the lady of this house you’ll need to take that boy under your wing,” Margaret murmured, trying not to grin.

Jeanne caught the boy’s glance and gave him a wink. He instantly reddened to have been noticed by his master’s lady, and bent to his task with renewed vigor. His evident embarrassment made Jeanne hurry to the door and out to the open air, where her laughter couldn’t upset him.