Iris Collier - Day of Wrath

Nicholas stared intently at Jane. ‘I wonder…’ he began.

‘You wonder what?’

‘Perhaps we’ve not been concentrating on the right place. Perhaps we’re being blind. Perhaps Ultor’s here, in our community, in the Priory.’

‘One of the monks? Surely not.’

‘Why not, Jane? They might be holy, but they’re human. And they’re about to be sent packing. From the Prior downwards, they are all against the King’s policy. And, by God, Jane, the Prior’s coming to dine with us on the seventh. The Prior! If he’s Ultor – and he’s got the brains for it – there’s his opportunity handed to him on a plate. All he’d have to do would be to slip one of Brother Michael’s concoctions into the King’s drink.’

‘Surely there’s a royal taster?’

‘That’s true, but there would be an opportunity later on when everyone’s relaxed. No, it’s not as ridiculous as it seems. Just think of it, for a moment. He’s literate. Everyone respects him. He has his own coach and travels round the county. He could be responsible for starting all these rumours against Agnes and everyone would believe him. I know he agreed to have her in his Priory, but that could just be a cover to put us off the scent.

‘Now he could have consulted Agnes about which herbs were lethal, and of course, would want to shut her up. Yes, it makes sense. He might balk at the idea of killing her himself, but by spreading rumours that she’s a witch, he can leave it to the community to take the law into its own hands.

‘And Jane, don’t you see that when she talks, she’s going to talk to you, and that puts your life in danger.’

‘Oh don’t worry about me. As I said before, I’m only a woman, and therefore quite harmless.’

‘I’m not so sure. If Ultor is my Lord Prior, he’ll know you’ve got a mind as sharp as nails – equal to any man’s.’

She gave him a sideways look, and he wondered what he’d said wrong. She bobbed him a curtsy. ‘Thanks, Nicholas. I’m glad you’ve got confidence in me. But, just stop and think before we’re carried away by supposition. The Prior! Nicholas, he’s such a softy! He loves beautiful things: music, paintings, food and good-looking people. Ultor stands for all that’s ugly, destructive. How can he be the Prior?’

‘Jane, just because the Prior admires music doesn’t rule out the fact that he could be deeply resentful that his Priory is going to be closed down and all his monks turned out, and his luxurious life-style would come to an end. Besides, he might also regret that he ever took the Oath of Supremacy and might seize any opportunity of getting rid of the King. Jane, he could be the man we’re looking for.’

‘He could be, I suppose, Nicholas, but I don’t believe you.’

‘Well, maybe Agnes can help us.’

‘If her memory comes back in time. But memories are strange things, and Agnes has had two severe shocks. Let’s hope the Prior doesn’t give in to popular pressure and evict her before her memory returns. She needs rest and quiet. To move her again would set us back days.’

‘And we can’t afford that. I’ll make sure the Prior doesn’t evict her. But all right, I take your point. The Prior looks, on the surface, too relaxed and easy-going to be our man. But now let’s take a look at his monks. All of them could be involved in this conspiracy. All of them are against the King. But realistically, most of them are unaware of the trouble that’s coming their way. They trust the Prior implicitly to look after them. But some of them could be more worldly and want to do something to put a stop to the King’s policy. Brother Benedict, for instance – yes, I know it’s unlikely,’ he said noticing her astonishment, ‘but what do we know about him? Not much. He frequently crosses the Channel, ostensibly to top up the Prior’s cellar when it runs dry. It’s a good excuse, isn’t it? He could be under the Pope’s orders to do anything he can to put a stop to the King’s destruction of the monasteries. Then take Father Hubert, for instance. Yes, Jane, you may well look surprised, but he’s just told me that he was up in the woods collecting herbs when my horse bolted, but, just think, he could have seen me and seized his opportunity to get rid of me. That branch could have caught me on the neck or round the chest and I wouldn’t be here with you now. After all, I seem to have the reputation of being the King’s favourite. A reluctant favourite, I must say! But all the same, my death could have been a warning to the King that if he doesn’t give up his policy of closing down the monasteries, the same fate awaits him. I’m not saying that Father Hubert is Ultor; but I am saying that he might know who he is, and be working for him. So, there are three people from the Priory whom we know about, who could be Ultor – if we count the Prior – or know who he is.’

‘And I still think it’s unlikely that any of them are involved in this. They’re just not worldly enough. It needs a devious mind to plot the elimination of witnesses. Mind you, there are a lot of drunks from the ale-house ready to do any dirty work required,’ said Jane. ‘Although Pierrepoint, the churchwarden, says that none of them knew anything about the fire at Agnes’s house. After all, it started after the ale-house had closed.’

‘Yet I think, and so does the Sheriff,’ said Nicholas, ‘that the Tomkinses know more than they let on. Also the Sheriff’s got the two men in custody whom he thinks started the fire. They were regulars at the ale-house. Sooner or later they’re going to talk.’

‘It seems to me that we’re spending a lot of time waiting for people to talk,’ Jane said bitterly.

‘And we’ve not much time left. We’ve got to get back to our suspects. You to your spying; me to interviewing the monks.’

‘Prior’ll not permit it.’

‘He will if I’m doing the interviewing. And if he doesn’t, then he’ll become the chief suspect and I can summon the Sheriff.’

He turned to go, but Jane paused, her face tense with concentration. ‘You know, I still find it difficult to believe that the monks are involved in this conspiracy, Nicholas. I know they disapprove of the King, and it’s understandable that they object to being ordered out of their own monastery, but they all took the Oath of Supremacy; there was no sign of rebellion then. This all smacks to me of a secular conspiracy.’

‘I’m inclined to agree with you, Jane. Fitzroy’s the obvious suspect. But monks are human beings. They have emotions just like us. They can love, hate, desire vengeance. We mustn’t rule them out just because they seem unlikely suspects.’

The Sheriff and I did explore Fitzroy’s possible role in this. Now, if you like, let’s take another look at him. He’s put his own steward, Roland Seaward, in Mortimer’s house. Now Seaward could be doing Fitzroy’s dirty work for him. He’s in an excellent position to stir up trouble in the village against Agnes Myles, and prepare the way for when Fitzroy decides to strike.’

‘And how’s he going to do that?’

‘He raises the muster for the county, remember. They are a band of loyal men, loyal to Fitzroy, that is. They are armed, ready to fight when he gives the order. Arundel is only an hour’s ride away from here. Instead of coming here to guard the King, they could do just the opposite.’

Jane looked at him in horror. ‘But that would be outright rebellion. You don’t know this for certain, do you, Nicholas?’

‘No, I don’t. I’m just running through the possible suspects. Fitzroy’s not to be trusted. His only loyalty is to himself. He’s an unscrupulous rogue, only out for what he can get. He shopped Mortimer, remember, who trusted him, and look what happened – he put one of his own men in Mortimer’s house. The only thing that makes me doubt he’s Ultor is that the Sheriff doesn’t think he’s clever enough to be Ultor, and he’s illiterate.’