Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (33 page)

Annora thanked her and tried to continue up to their room. Margaret moved to stand in her way.

“Yes?” Annora asked wearily. “Is there something else?”

Margaret licked her lips. “Yes. I wasn’t going to mention it, but my conscience won’t let me stay silent, especially now that Gui has left.”

“What? What are you talking about, child?”

“I’m not a child!” Margaret said instinctively. “I went to see Gui at the Temple. I had a brooch that was found when he was attacked and I thought it might be his. He said it was your grandmother’s but that he had always wanted it. He seemed so sad. I gave it to him. I’m sorry.”

Annora stared at her, not taking in what she was saying. She blinked.

“You went to see Gui?”

“Yes.”

“You had a brooch you thought was his?”

“Yes, it was—”

“Gold, square, with topazes?” Annora asked.

“Yes, your grandmother’s? He said you had it from Cecile when she left for the convent.”

“No,” Annora said coldly. “Cecile took it with her. She said it wasn’t a piece of vainglory but a reminder of someone she had loved. It was the only possession she couldn’t give up.”

“But then how did it get into the garden here?” Margaret wondered. “I was sure Gui had dropped it.”

Annora had paled. She was holding her mouth tightly, white to the lips, as if trying not to throw up.

“Whoever did”—she swallowed hard—“could only have taken it from Cecile. Sweet Virgin! The person who killed her was only a step away from me, and I did nothing! If I ever get that close to him again, I swear I will rip out his heart with my bare hands.”

“I was so sure Annora had dropped the brooch,” Margaret said. “Gui told me it was hers!”

Margaret’s teeth clanked against the rim of her bowl. She put it down, too agitated to hold it steadily.

“I’ve done something awful!” she went on. “You should have seen Annora’s face when I told her I had given it to Gui. I might as well have stabbed her with the thing. Now how will we ever know who took the brooch from Cecile? For it must have been the one who killed her. Could it have been Gui?”

“I’m hoping for Arnulf,” Astrolabe said.

“That would be nice, but he wasn’t at the dinner where I found it.” Catherine tried to envision the faces of the other guests. She had certainly had enough time to study them, since Gui had ignored her for most of the evening.

“Margaret, you mustn’t feel bad about this.” John patted her trembling hand. “Your impulse was generous.”

“But stupid,” Margaret sighed. “And I was positive that Gui had faked the attack. I must have been wrong about that, too.”

“Astrolabe,” Catherine asked, “could Gui have been among those who raided the Eonite camp?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “All I remember is a horde of men on horses coming toward me.”

“But Cecile knew one of them,” Catherine said. “We assumed it must have been one of the knights of Henri of Tréguier. What if she saw a family member, one she didn’t trust?”

“Is there any way we can find out if Gui was in Brittany then?” John asked. “We don’t have time to send messengers.”

“We can’t even find out if Gui is in Reims now.” Astrolabe hunched over the table, his head in his hands.

“Then let’s begin with what we can do,” Catherine said. “John, will you come with me to the house where the bishop of Paris is staying? I want to catch this subdeacon Felix before he leaves for the council to see what he can tell us about Rolland’s last night. You probably studied with him, or tutored him or drank with him at least. You can help me get information. Perhaps someone saw him leave for the toll booth.”

“Certainly.” John was on his feet at once.

“What can we do?” Godfrey asked.

“Find the other two,” Catherine said. “Gui and Gwenael. None of you have told Gui that Cecile is dead, have you?”

Margaret shook her head vehemently. “He spoke as if he thought she was still at Saint-Georges.”

“I said nothing,” Astrolabe added.

“I think it’s time to tell him,” Catherine said. “If he’s innocent of her death, then he may be willing to help us. If he is guilty, then he might well make a slip that will trap him.”

“And Gwenael?” Margaret asked.

Catherine shook her head. “I have no idea what she’s planning. But I’d feel better if she were under our supervision. Her wild ideas about Astrolabe could do as much damage as Rolland’s rumormongering.”

“What about those ‘relatives’ that came for Gui?” Astrolabe asked.

Catherine threw up her hands. “I’d forgotten all about them. Maybe the guard at the Temple can describe them? Someone will have to ask Annora what other family Gui has. Ow!”

She pressed a hand against her stomach. The others looked at her in alarm.

“Just a cramp,” Catherine said. “This child seems to be playing crosses and naughts on the wall of my womb.”

She adjusted her
bliaut
.

“Now, we all have a task,” she said. “We’ll meet back here at Nones. Is that agreeable?”

They all agreed. Catherine and John left on their errand.

Astrolabe remained at the table with Godfrey and Margaret. Rather than leaping into action, as Catherine had hoped, all three seemed lost in their own thoughts.

Astrolabe sighed.

“Poor Eon is going to be brought before the council today,” he said. “I can’t help now in the way that I had hoped, but I still feel that I should be there to speak for him. Of course it might well make his case worse.”

“Did it occur to you that you might be arrested before you had a chance to speak at all?” Godfrey asked.

“Oh, yes.” Astrolabe rubbed his bare chin. “But I’ve waited long enough. I can’t spend the rest of my life denying my name or running from faceless accusers. With all that’s happened here, they may expect me to continue hiding. If I come before the council on my own, it may make their denunciations appear mere bluster.”

“Perhaps.” Margaret was doubtful. “But is it worth the risk? I don’t mind going to observe the proceedings for you. I’d like to see this madman. I want to understand how he could inspire such devotion when his theology is so obviously preposterous. Even if he’s condemned, you could plead for him privately later.”

“Could you get me inside the cathedral?” Godfrey asked her. “It seems to me that we might begin there anyway. If Gwenael hasn’t regained her senses and fled the city, then I’d bet she couldn’t resist seeing her master again.”

“I’m sure I could,” Margaret said. “Astrolabe? Will you wait for us here?”

“No.” Astrolabe got up. He squared his shoulders for battle, his hand automatically reaching for the sword that he no longer wore.

“I can’t abandon Eon now,” he said. “I’m sure he’s frightened and confused. Someone must be his advocate. If I’m permitted, I’ll speak for him. Compared to the bandits that roam the forest and the wandering preachers who incite riots, he’s harmless. I’ve got to try to make the council understand that.”

“And what if Arnulf takes the opportunity to bring his charges against you before the full council?” Godfrey asked.

“Archbishop Samson will see that he doesn’t,” Margaret said. “At least, I think he will. Anyway, Arnulf seems to be convinced that he’s won. Why accuse him among so many of Abelard’s old students and take the chance of swaying opinion in Astrolabe’s favor?”

“Who knows what Arnulf might do? In his own way, that monk seems as mad as Eon,” Astrolabe said. “Does anyone remember what monastery he said he was from? I’d like to know the abbot who would send him out on a mission like this alone.”

“Good, they haven’t left yet.” John pointed at the sedan chair outside the house, ready for the bishop. “Now, to find Subdeacon Felix. Why don’t you let me go to the porter first and ask for him?”

“Why can’t I come with you?” Catherine asked.

John looked down at her. Catherine followed his gaze.

“Oh, yes,” she chuckled softly. “Clerics do tend to panic when pregnant women show up at their door. Very well. I’ll sit on the bench over there. Bring him out, though, if you can.”

She sat down to wait. After a few moments the morning sun made her drowsy and she closed her eyes, leaning back against the rough wall in front of the house.

She was vaguely aware of people passing, but no one bothered her. Two men were conversing nearby in low tones. They must have moved closer to her for she caught a sentence that brought her suddenly alert. She forced herself to relax, keeping her eyes shut.

“Rolland never went to whores,” one voice said. “Everyone knows that. And even if he did, he’d never go off to meet one in a remote place at night. He was slow but not stupid.”

“I wonder if his death might have something to do with those questions he’d been asking,” the other said. “Wanting to know about some priory in Brittany. Did he come to you? He seemed awfully agitated when I saw him.”

“No,” the first one said. “Why would he be interested in a Breton house? Do you think he finally realized that he had no hope for advancement? Even his family couldn’t get him a better position in Paris.”

“And so he decided to retire to the wilds of Brittany? Seems drastic.”

“Oh, well.” The men started to move away. “It doesn’t matter anymore. The only position he has now is recumbent.”

Catherine opened her eyes a slit. The men were walking away from her, toward the cathedral. She sat up. Interesting. Without any effort, she had overheard something useful. Assuming that she had no Latin, the canons had spoken without caution. After her wasted day as a beggar, she had decided that the plan had been foolish. She was astonished that it had worked after all.

John came out soon after with a boy who looked too young to be a student, much less a subdeacon.

“Felix?” she asked.

“Master John said you know my sister?” he asked in some puzzlement. “I’m not clear why she sent you to me. Canon Rolland and I weren’t close.”

“But you saw him just before he died,” Catherine said. “Didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” the boy answered. “His appetite was the wonder of the table. He was in very high spirits.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. He kept hinting that he had uncovered some serious malefactors who were threatening the body of the Church,” Felix shrugged. “But none of us wanted to give him the satisfaction of asking about it. He was always boasting about something.”

“Did he say anything about a Breton priory?” Catherine asked.

John gave her a look but didn’t interrupt.

Felix scratched his head. “I don’t think so. I know he’d been chasing some Breton heretic, a follower of this Eon, but I think that came to nothing.”

“Did you see him leave the dinner?” Catherine asked.

Felix looked around to be sure none of his colleagues were nearby.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” he said. “I’m afraid I also overindulged that evening. I needed to go out rather quickly. Rolland was talking with the porter when I came through. He was asking about a message. That’s all I heard. I was in a
great
hurry.”

“Of course,” Catherine said. “But that’s very helpful. And he was gone when you returned?”

Felix nodded. “You won’t mention my gluttony to the bishop, will you? I’ll confess it myself in Chapter, but I’d rather be the one to tell him.”

“We understand completely,” John told him. “Don’t we, Catherine?”

“I won’t say a word,” she promised. “Especially to your sister.”

The boy grinned at them. “I’m in your debt. Felicia would taunt me about it for years.”

They gave him a coin for the poor and bid him good day.

“What was all that about a priory?” John asked after Felix had left.

Catherine explained. “I think Rolland may have become suspicious of Brother Arnulf’s story about being sent by his abbot to chase heretics.”

“I know I am,” John said. “But Arnulf must have had a letter from someone of authority or Bishop Samson never would have given any credit to his accusations.”

“One would think so,” Catherine said. “Let’s find out what the porter has to say.”

The man who had been on duty that night wasn’t there, but the day porter directed them to his home. They went down a damp alleyway behind the cathedral, coming out in a small square. Each building had a shop on the ground floor. The shutters were down to display ribbons, thread, gloves, trimmings, laces and cloth of all kinds.

“Which one did he say?” John asked.

Catherine had been momentarily distracted by the brightly colored patterns on a selection of hose.

“Over there, the ribbon seller’s.”

They asked the woman at the stall where they could find the porter.

“Upstairs asleep,” she told them. “And he doesn’t take kindly to being wakened before his time.”

“It is urgent,” Catherine said. “We need to ask him some questions. We’ll pay for his trouble. It shouldn’t take long.”

The word
pay
changed the woman’s attitude. She held out her hand.

Catherine dropped in a
solidus
of Paris. The woman bit it.

“That’s worth him losing a bit of sleep,” she said.

“Lambert!” She pounded on the ceiling with the pole used to open and close the shutter. “Get your ass up. Lady and a priest want to talk to you.”

She gestured for them to go to the main floor. They climbed a narrow ladder in the corner of the shop that went up into the living area. As Catherine emerged, she gasped and looked away. Lambert quickly dropped a tunic over his head.

“Well, what do you expect, barging in on a man in his bed?” he demanded.

“I apologize,” Catherine said. “I was just startled.”

Lambert smirked. “That’s what my wife said the first time she saw it, too.”

Silently, Catherine climbed the rest of the way into the room, standing aside for John to ascend.

John explained their mission.

“Oh, sure, I remember him,” Lambert said. “Big fellow, rude. I gave him the message and he left.”

“Do you know who sent the message?” Catherine asked.

“No, the woman didn’t say.” Lambert scratched beneath the tunic. Catherine looked at the ceiling.

“Woman?” John asked. “It was a woman who brought the message?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“Did you know her?” John persisted.

Lambert shook his head. “Not local,” he said. “She was foreign, maybe from the south or Germany, maybe Normandy. She talked with an accent, at least.”

“What did she look like?” Catherine asked.

“Couldn’t say,” Lambert answered. “A bit shorter than you. She had on a heavy veil, covered most of her face.”

“Do you remember anything else about her?” Catherine said, handing him a coin.

“No,” he said. “I got the feeling she was a lady, though. She told me what she wanted and left. Didn’t stop to talk or wait a bit in case there was a reply.”

“She might just have been frightened or rushed,” Catherine suggested.

“Don’t know,” Lambert said. “Just telling you what I noticed, like you asked.”

They thanked him and left. John went down the ladder first. As Catherine descended, Lambert pulled off his tunic and got back into bed. She had no doubt that he’d be snoring before she reached the floor.

“A woman?” John said when they were out in the street again.

“Obviously the porter thought she was making the assignation for herself,” Catherine said. “It does support the idea that Baldwin went out
d’amer fame vilaine
.”

“Except Lambert thought she was a noblewoman,” John reminded her.

“Only because she wouldn’t stay with him. She might just have wanted to get away before he demanded a sample of her wares,” Catherine said. “I don’t place much value on his judgment on that score.”

“The information doesn’t seem to help us,” John commented.

“Not really,” Catherine answered gloomily. “We only know that she didn’t speak the way they do around here. I wish there had been some indication of who had sent her.”