Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (29 page)

“Then I can take Catherine safely back to my mother,” he said, “and get on with my life. After all the insistence that she come to be able to overhear Latin conversations unnoticed, she really hasn’t had any cause to do so. I’ve stolen her from her family for nothing.”

“I’m sure she’s been of use to Countess Sybil,” John mentioned. “And she may yet be asked to participate in the debate concerning Bishop Gilbert.”

Astrolabe stared at him.

“Joke!” John said. “Although I’m sure she could give a good account of herself. I just had an image of her going nose to nose with the Lombard. It would be more than many of the elderly members of the council could survive.”

The thought of this put them all in a good humor. They descended the steps to the hall, ready for bread, cheese and beer to break their fast and fortify them for the day.

Instead they found chaos. No one had put out the food. The tables weren’t even set up. Servants appeared carrying bags of altar linen and the instruments of the Mass. The other English clerk came running down from the bishop’s chambers with a chalice tucked under his arm.

“What’s happening?” Thomas demanded.

“They found a body by the river,” the man told them. “Someone identified him as the man who had warned him about the heretic army. Now everyone is in a panic. They say the Astrolabe has come. Do you have any idea what that means? Why should anyone be afraid of an astrolabe?”

Astrolabe reached back and pulled his cowl over his head. It seemed he had decided to resume his own identity too soon.

“Godfrey!” Catherine called down from the window. “We’ve been told not to leave the convent until things have calmed down. I have to send a message to John. Meet me in the entry.”

Godfrey cupped his hands over his mouth to be heard above the noise in the street.

“At once, my lady!”

A few passersby looked up to see whom he was yelling at, but most continued on, either heading toward the bishop’s palace next to the cathedral to be in on whatever was going to happen, or running as quickly as they could to take cover from it.

“Never take refuge in a convent,” Catherine greeted him a few moments later. “It’s far too easy to find yourself trapped inside for your own good.”

“It sounds like Heaven to me,” Godfrey answered. He realized what he had just said. “Begging your pardon.”

Catherine was pale and drawn that morning. She hadn’t slept again after the incident with Gwenael, and the news they had awakened to had set her in a frenzy of worry. If she hadn’t seen Godfrey in the street, she might have made a rope ladder and let herself down from the guest house window.

His words made Catherine blink. Then she laughed. The guard relaxed.

“We all have different images of Heaven,” she said. “Mine is to be home with my husband and children, not cooped up with a dozen women, all of whom want to be out as much as I do.
Avoi
, I need you to find John. Do you know anything about this murder last night?”

“Me? No,” he said quickly. “I spent the night camped out by Saint-Hilarius. I learned of it this morning. They say the dead man is a canon of Paris. Rolland, I’m sure.”

“That’s what Lady Sybil’s men told us,” Catherine said. “Do they know how he died?”

He shook his head. “No. There are a thousand speculations. Many are sure he ran afoul of the demon lord because he tried to warn people of his plans to conquer the city. The methods they suggest could only have been accomplished by demonic energy. But I seriously doubt that the body was found with all his organs having been pulled out through his mouth.”

“What do they mean, ‘conquer the city’? I thought the story was that the demon was merely going to free Eon,” Catherine said.

“That was yesterday,” Godfrey said. “By tomorrow his army will have already overrun Spain and Provence and be at our gates demanding a tribute of gold and virgins.”

“No doubt,” Catherine said. “Godfrey, I need to know how Rolland really died. Was he drowned, strangled, run through, poisoned, hanged, stabbed through the heart or hit over the head?”

Godfrey took a step back. “Is there one method you’d prefer?” he asked.

“I have a suspicion,” she said. “Of course, I knew someone once who took pride in inventing appropriate ways to dispatch each of her victims, but most people have a favorite and stick to it.”

“You’ve had much experience in this?” Godfrey stepped back again.

“More than I care to,” Catherine said absently. “Of course, he might not have been murdered at all. He could have fallen or had a fit. But we wouldn’t be that lucky.”

“I’ll find out for you,” Godfrey promised. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, but first I have to tell you what Gwenael has done.”

Catherine did.

“So don’t try to see her today,” she concluded. “She’s in the nuns’ chapel, cleaning the floor. Someone will be watching her constantly.”

“Stupid, stupid woman!” Godfrey looked around for something to put his fist through. “I knew something was wrong when I couldn’t find her last night. She’s as mad as that heretic lord of hers. Give her up to the bishop.”

“You don’t know how much I’d like to,” Catherine sighed. “I have no idea how to pierce her faith in Eon. She needs someone far more skilled than I am. But I’m sure that, even in her madness, she might be able to help Astrolabe. And we can’t risk what she might say if she were questioned now without one of us nearby.”

“She’s convinced that Astrolabe is going to free Eon,” Godfrey admitted. “It would be hard to explain that her belief has no substance.”

“Now, if you’ll try to discover all the particulars of Rolland’s death,” Catherine continued, “that will help me. After that, find John. Ask him please to come here as soon as he is free. I’m hoping that the tumult in the streets will die down soon. If it does, then I’ll do my best to be at the cathedral this afternoon when Eon is brought in.”

“But surely it was Rolland who intended to denounce Astrolabe,” Godfrey said. “So now there’s no danger.”

“Perhaps that was Rolland’s intention,” Catherine answered. “Someone else was certainly willing to let him be the visible target. That was very wise. But now that he’s dead, the threat to Astrolabe is even worse. Aren’t they saying in the street that he killed the canon?”

“Yes, but you haven’t listened closely,” Godfrey said. “No one thinks he’s a man anymore, but some sort of demon king. There are even those who now are certain that Rolland was really his messenger and struck down by God.”

“No tale would be too incredible,” Catherine said, “for those already infected with panic. But those who have the job of investigating the death are not going to listen to the streets. They will look for a human hand. That’s why I need to know how it happened.”

She rubbed her temples with both hands. “I can almost see it,” she complained. “Eon, Cecile, Annora, Gui, Rolland, that unknown monk, even Gwenael. Somehow they all fit together. Astrolabe has been caught up in a tangle worse than Margaret’s thread box. We must work harder or he may be the only one who can’t escape.”

“I’ll do as you ask, my lady,” Godfrey said. “I promise to return before Nones with Master John if I have to drag him from under the nose of the pope himself.”

“Thank you. Also,” Catherine called after him, “find out where the body is now. Examine it if you can.”

Godfrey gave her an incredulous stare and then vanished into the crowd.

Catherine went back upstairs to find the windows wide open. The women were leaning out of them, trying to see everything that was happening. The convent overlooked a square only a short walk from the cathedral and across from the church of Saint-Etienne. They could see the people heading toward the bishop’s palace next to the cathedral, and hear the shouts.

“I’m not going to wait here any longer,” one woman announced. “I’m not cloistered. No one has the right to keep me here. I don’t see Countess Sybil hiding. She left this morning to consult with the Flemish bishops.”

“Aren’t you afraid of the mob?” another woman asked.

“I’m calling for my horse and a guard,” the first one said. She took riding boots and gloves from her box. “I may not be able to go hawking, but at least I can ride outside the city. Anyone who tries to stop me will regret it.”

“I’ll come with you,” someone said from the window. “The commotion seems to be moving west to the cathedral. My lady doesn’t need me today, and I can’t bear this noise and enforced seclusion.”

Once the suggestion had been made, others admitted that they also needed a day in the countryside. Catherine and Margaret watched them in amazement.

“Don’t they understand what’s happening out there?” Margaret whispered.

“I don’t think they care,” Catherine whispered back. “This isn’t their city. They aren’t credulous enough to fear a demon army. Why shouldn’t they go riding? It will harm no one.”

And
, she thought,
it will make it easier for me to slip out later
.

As the room slowly cleared, Catherine noticed a bedraggled figure come out from behind the curtain in the corner.

“Annora!” she cried. “When did you return? Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you. The countess’s servants said you were ill.”

“How silly of them,” Annora said. “The countess knew where I was.”

“What happened to your clothes?” Margaret asked.

“I went out to dine at the table of Archbishop Hugh of Rouen,” Annora said. “I hold part of my castellany from him. He is staying outside the city gates, and by the time the dinner ended, it was too late for me to return.”

Catherine raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Margaret was not so circumspect.

“Was there no bed at the archbishop’s?” she asked. “You have grass stains on the back of your
bliaut
.”

Annora checked her skirts and saw that Margaret was right.

“I have no idea how that happened,” she said. “I slept very badly at the archbishop’s and then had to force my way through the rabble in the streets to get back. Isn’t it today that Eon is to appear before the council? I want to be there to speak for Cecile, but I must have some rest and a wash first.”

She said this as if accusing Catherine and Margaret of keeping her from both.

“We were just leaving.” Catherine nudged Margaret. “A walk in the garden, don’t you think, Margaret? Until Godfrey returns?”

“Oh, yes.” Margaret got up at once. “I would love to walk in the garden. Of course most of the plants are still sleeping, but one can imagine the flowers.”

“That will be a fine mental exercise,” Catherine said, trying not to laugh.

Annora paid no attention. She was obviously exhausted. She removed her belt, shoes and
bliaut
and crawled into the bed in her
chainse
.

“We’ll be going, then,” Catherine said.

Annora pulled the blanket over her head.

“I hope Countess Sybil never finds out where she really was last night,” Catherine commented as they reached the garden.

“Why? Where was she?” Margaret asked.

“I have no idea,” Catherine answered. “But it wasn’t dining with the archbishop of Rouen.”

“Even to me the story sounded thin,” Margaret said. “But I can’t think of any other place she could have gone. Who else does she know?”

Catherine kicked at the earth in frustration. “Just when I thought all the pieces were fitting, she has to jumble them again. I hope Godfrey was able to get the information I wanted.”

“Will that make everything clear?” Margaret asked.

“Probably not,” Catherine said. “Unless it turns out that Rolland did indeed have his entrails pulled out through his mouth. Then we can confidently blame a demon.”

They walked in silence for a while, each occupied with thoughts that had nothing to do with immediate problems.

“I forgot to tell Sister Melisande about that rash Edana had on her bottom,” Catherine said.

“She noticed,” Margaret told her. “She had a salve that worked very well.”

“Oh, good,” Catherine said without enthusiasm. She thought she should have been the one to take care of her daughter’s rash.

They started another circle of the garden.

“I haven’t spoken to Countess Mahaut yet,” Margaret blurted. “Won’t you please do it for me? I can’t go to Carinthia. She doesn’t want to wait until Edgar returns but to send me as soon as she can have my clothes ready. Grandfather said he’d provide the dowry so Edgar needn’t worry. It’s all happening so quickly! I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Margaret, you must speak out,” Catherine said. “I can protest, if you like, but yours is the only voice they’ll listen to.”

“I can’t!” Margaret said in despair. “Every time I try, Countess Mahaut says something about how lovely the country is and how much I’ll enjoy it. Or Bishop Henry asks me to say something in German. Catherine, I can’t even remember the name of the man they want me to marry. They only mentioned it once. The rest has been about what a wonderful alliance it will be.”

She gulped and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I know that Astrolabe’s fate is much more important than mine. I try not to bother you with this, but I need you, Catherine. I’m so afraid.”

“Oh, my poor sister!” Catherine took Margaret in her arms and let her cry. “You are just as important as Astrolabe and much more dear to me. I won’t let you go. We’ll find a way through this, I promise.”

But Catherine wished heartily that Edgar were with her. This was one dilemma too many for her to cope with.

Margaret was still sniffling when the portress came to tell them that Godfrey had returned with a priest.

“That must be John,” Catherine said. “At last we’ve brought someone to the door that she approves of.”

They hurried to greet them.

“Is our friend Peter safe?” Catherine asked first.

“Under the protection of Archbishop Theobald,” John said. “And,” he added with pride, “I think I may soon be as well.”

“John, that’s wonderful!” Catherine said. “It will be a great thing for you. I know you’ll serve him well. Now, about the body.”

“Catherine, you would never survive the ceremony at court,” John said. “You never bother with the polite preludes to important discussion.”