Susanna Gregory - The Sacred stone

Dawn prayers had just finished, and the monks were filing out of the church. Some, seeing the state of the weather, headed for the dormitory to collect hoods and cloaks before the deluge, while others drifted towards the scriptorium or the kitchens. Odo had cornered Aidan and was talking to him in a low, urgent voice, while Marcus turned and shot back inside the church when he spotted Geoffrey.

‘Where is he going?’ asked Roger suspiciously.

Ivar, who was passing and overheard, answered. ‘I noticed his mind was elsewhere during the Mass. I imagine he has gone to say a few more prayers, to salve his conscience.’

‘It needs salving for more than that,’ remarked Roger before Geoffrey could stop him. He spoke very loudly, and monks, Cadowan and Nest turned to listen. ‘He is the one who has been telling your priory’s secrets to Walter de Clare.’

Ivar gaped at him. ‘Marcus is the spy? No! It is far more likely to have been Odo.’

‘Odo? Why him?’ asked Geoffrey, watching as the prior broke away from Aidan and disappeared around the side of the church. His affable monk went in the opposite direction and was soon lost to sight among the chicken coops.

Ivar lowered his voice. ‘Because he pretends to be pleasant, but there is a black heart beneath his habit. My other suspect is Aidan, who alone of the monks likes to wander the town on his own. None of us knows what he does, and he gets testy when we ask. And the spy cannot be Marcus, anyway, because he is the one who is most vocal about the damage the spy does with his tales.’

And that, Geoffrey thought, was exactly what Marcus would say when he was confronted with the evidence of his treachery. He was about to say so when Ivar, seeing Cadowan and Nest indicate they wanted to speak to him, turned and broke into a run. They followed, making a comical procession as they rounded the church.

Then the gate opened again and Walter strode inside, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle; his four knights were at his heels. Their arrival was oddly timed, and Geoffrey wondered whether they had heard Roger’s pronouncement from outside — it had certainly been loud enough. Pigot’s dark face creased into a scowl when he saw Roger, although Revelle smiled a friendly greeting. Walter grinned when he saw Geoffrey, all teeth and no sincerity.

‘You are up early,’ the constable remarked. ‘I expected you to sleep late, given that you must have been tired after yesterday’s exertions. I am sorry business claimed me last night, depriving us of the opportunity to chat, but we shall rectify that today. I am eager to make better acquaintance with one of the King’s agents.’

Odo appeared suddenly from the direction of the church. He was breathless and looked flustered; Aidan was not far behind him. Odo stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Walter’s words.

‘You are the King’s agent?’ he demanded, regarding Geoffrey with alarm. ‘You did not mention that yesterday.’

‘He is a modest man,’ provided Roger when Geoffrey said nothing. ‘It is usually left to me to do the bragging. And it was as well I did yesterday, or you might have killed him.’ He turned to glower at Walter, who had the grace to look sheepish.

‘Walter tried to harm you?’ asked Odo. An expression of gleeful malice crossed his face. ‘Then it is a matter that must be reported to the King. I shall write this morning and-’

‘Please do not,’ said Geoffrey tiredly, unwilling to have his name brought to Henry’s attention for any reason. ‘It was a misunderstanding.’

Odo’s eyes narrowed. ‘I do not believe you. And you do not look well today. You-’

‘He said it was a misunderstanding,’ snarled Walter, coming to stand close to the prior and insinuating enough menace into his words to make Odo step back in alarm. ‘So that is an end to it. You would do better to pay heed to your own business — for example, establishing which of your monks murdered Leger, who, incidentally, is uncle to Sir Geoffrey’s wife.’

‘That means Geoffrey is Leger’s kin, and you are in serious trouble,’ added Pigot provocatively.

‘How dare you make such accusations,’ shouted Odo. ‘You know perfectly well that the villain was one of the brutes who stand at your heels. They have killed before and-’

‘I came to return this,’ interrupted Walter. He pulled the cloth from the parcel he held, to reveal a large altar-cross. ‘It was found in the possession of a local thief, and I imagined you would be pleased to have it back. However, I did not come here to bandy words with you. I am above such indignities. With your permission, I shall take it to the church.’

He turned and strutted away, without waiting to hear whether he had permission or not, leaving Odo grinding his teeth in impotent rage. It was a clever piece of manipulation — coming to present the priory with stolen property, and then manoeuvring himself into the position of injured party during the exchange that followed — although Geoffrey saw through it. But Walter’s games with the priory were not his concern.

‘We need to talk to Marcus,’ he told Odo, watching as Walter and his henchmen opened the church door and disappeared inside.

‘He is your spy,’ added Roger, presenting the little box and its contents with a flourish. Geoffrey closed his eyes. He had imagined the thing had been left where it had been found and would have stopped Roger, had he seen him removing it.

Aidan snatched it from him. ‘Walter owns a lot of these. I know, because when we say Masses for his daughter’s soul, the coins come in one. And here is one of our wooden crosses. It looks like Marcus’s — his was chipped when he dropped it once, and here you can see a small piece is missing.’

‘But Marcus told me he lost it,’ said Odo, bemused. ‘And that his family had sent him a gold one as a replacement. He asked my permission to wear it, because he said a gift from his family helped alleviate the sorrow he felt at losing the one he was given at his ordination.’

‘If this cross was at the castle,’ said Aidan, staring at his prior with worried eyes, ‘then it means Walter stole it. Marcus would not have parted with it otherwise. Or it fell off when he was in their dungeons.’

‘Fell off into a box?’ asked Roger archly. ‘Which was then hidden in a wall of the room allocated to him when he is at the castle? And in company with gold coins?’

‘There are no gold coins in here,’ said Aidan, peering into the box doubtfully.

‘They must have fallen out,’ said Roger smoothly.

‘We should confront Walter,’ said Aidan, watching as the constable left the church. Walter was walking briskly, giving the impression of being a busy man. ‘He is here anyway.’

‘No,’ said Odo, reaching out a hand to stop him. ‘We will talk to Marcus first. Where is he?’

‘Asking forgiveness for his sins in the church,’ replied Roger piously, ignoring the fact that he had some sins of his own to confess, the most recent being theft.

Odo set off towards the building, the others at his heels. It was far darker than it had been the previous day, because of the gathering thunderclouds. As if to accentuate the point, there was a flash of lightning and another growl of thunder, this time closer.

It illuminated Marcus, who was in the Lady Chapel next to Leger’s coffin. He was lying on his face, and there was a dagger protruding from his back.

Odo released a strangled cry and ran towards him, while the blood drained from Aidan’s face. Geoffrey dropped to one knee beside the prostrate monk but could see he was past all earthly help. Like Leger, he had been killed neatly and proficiently with a single, efficient blow.

‘Walter!’ exclaimed Aidan. ‘He was just in here. He killed Marcus!’