Read To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Online

Authors: Sharan Newman

To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (23 page)

BOOK: To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery
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“Get out of my way,” Edgar shoved him down again. “Here, you! Bring my horse at once!” He called to a passing servant. “No, never mind. I’ll get him myself.”
Giselbert sat on the grass, rubbing his jaw.
“You’re the one whose slackbrained, Edgar! Or you’d know when you’d been cuckolded!” he yelled.
“
Or poes aler au lagon!
” Edgar screamed back.
As he watched Edgar gallop by, Giselbert was helped to his feet by the servant.
“You’ll be in hell long before I will!” he shouted.
Edgar was too far away to hear.
 
The darkness soon forced him to slow to a walk. The path was uneven and hard to follow. He was close enough to Paris to make the ride in less than an hour in daylight. But from all he could see, he might have been at the edge of the world with no other soul within a day’s journey. He cursed himself for not having stopped long enough to take a lantern. But there hadn’t been time to spare.
What could have possessed Catherine to go off like that without telling him? Edgar couldn’t think of a reason dire enough. Trickster must have been mistaken. Either the man who took her had forced her in some way, or, and now he slowed even more, the woman he saw hadn’t been Catherine.
Should he go back? What would she think if she returned to the
banquet only to find him gone and the only person to witness his departure a man whom he had just knocked down and consigned to perdition?
As he dithered, Edgar heard the sound of a horse approaching from the opposite direction. He cursed himself again, realizing that he was out in the middle of the forest, in the middle of the night, dressed in gold and jewels, with only a meat knife to protect himself and his only hand needed to guide the horse.
The glow of a lantern shone as the rider came around a curve in the pathway. Edgar waited. Usually brigands don’t carry light.
The other rider came closer.
“Edgar?”
Edgar blinked. He couldn’t make out the face behind the light.
“Astrolabe? Is that you?”
“Thank the Virgin I found you!” Astrolabe answered.
“What’s going on?” Edgar’s worry for Catherine expanded. “Are the children all right? Have you seen Catherine?”
“They’re all fine, but you must come with me at once,” Astrolabe answered as he turned to lead Edgar home.
“Tell me what happened,” Edgar said.
Astrolabe twisted in his saddle. “It started just after dark, when the guards came to the door to say that someone had tried to get into the garden but that they’d chased him off.”
“Did they know who it was?”
“They weren’t close enough to him to make out the face,” Astrolabe continued. “But, not long after, Abraham’s son, Joel, came with a message for Solomon. Solomon became very agitated. At first, I assumed there had been more trouble between the Jews and the pilgrims. Joel told him to come at once. Solomon asked me to stay and promised to send word as soon as he could.”
“But what about Catherine?” Edgar demanded.
“I’m coming to that,” Astrolabe told him. “I went back and helped Samonie and Margaret put the little ones to bed. Margaret was sure Solomon had gone out to get himself killed. It took some time to calm her. Then Joel returned, this time with a message from Catherine that
I was to go and find you at Les Champeaux and bring you to Abraham’s house at once. Of course Margaret believed all her terrors had come true. I had to assure her that I’d return as soon as I’d taken you there with a full report, or I believe she would have insisted on going to Abraham’s herself.”
This recital had Edgar’s head spinning. In part he was still concerned that something terrible had happened, but he was also growing angry. Catherine shouldn’t have been so thoughtless. Whatever it was, she should have come for him before leaving. He had no doubt that Giselbert Trickster was now regaling the party with the tale of how Edgar had gone chasing off after his adulterous wife.
“Who is watching over my children and my sister?” he asked sharply.
“Samonie and Martin are staying up until we return, and the guards are now at both doors,” Astrolabe answered. “They’ll be safe. Any possible danger is at Abraham’s, and since Catherine is there …”
“Yes, we must hurry,” Edgar urged. “Hold the lantern out more. I’ll follow you.”
Soon houses began to appear from the darkness, first a few and then in clusters and finally they were back in the city, entering north of the main gate. A beggar trying to sleep against a wall pulled his feet in as they passed, and a pair of drunken young men tried to snatch the reins of Edgar’s horse. He kicked them off with an oath.
The
rue des Juifs
was silent as they rode down it to Abraham’s home. The dull thud of the horses’ hooves in the mud echoed in the narrow passageway. Edgar had the sense that behind the shuttered windows everyone sat alert, ready to defend themselves or flee from an imminent assault.
They arrived at the house. Before Edgar could raise the knocker, the door opened. Joel came out and took the reins as they dismounted.
“Go upstairs,” he whispered. “I’ll see to your horses.”
As they went up the steps the door at the top opened and Catherine came out. In two bounds Edgar was beside her, not sure if he wanted to kiss or shake her. She solved the problem by throwing herself into his arms and sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she could speak. “I had to come. Solomon was afraid that if he came into the banquet for us, there would be too many questions. I didn’t dare wait.”
“Catherine, I have questions,” Edgar said. “What, by the holy face of Lucca, is going on here?”
“He couldn’t reach us,” Catherine sniffled. “One of our guards threw a rock at him. He barely made it to Abraham’s. He’s hurt and in such danger. What are we going to do?”
Solomon came out on the landing, his face grave.
“I apologize, Edgar,” he said. “Come in. He wants to talk to you.”
Edgar followed him into the hall. At one side of the room a brazier had been lit, even though the night was warm. Near it a bed had been made up, and in it a man was lying, his head wrapped in a bandage. He gaunt face was hidden by a thick black beard liberally streaked with grey and it was a moment before Edgar realized who he was looking at.
“Hubert!” he cried. “What are you doing back home? Jesus’ tears, man, don’t you know that if they find you here, you’ll be killed?”
The house of Abraham, the Vintner, sometime before Matins, Friday, 10 kalends June (May 23), 1147; 21 Sivan, 4907. Feast of Saint Bobo knight of Provence, who conquered and converted Saracen pirates.
 
. et ut fieri solet quod morbus obliquii ab uno serpat in omnes …
 
… and, thus it is common that the malady of evil talk creeps from one person to another and then to all …
 
—William of Malmesbury
Gesta Regum Anglorum
Book II, Part 201
 
 
C
atherine went to sit on the floor beside the bed. She took her father’s hand.
“Edgar is right,” she said. “We would have found a way to come see you in Arles eventually. You shouldn’t have taken such a risk in returning to Paris.”
Hubert squeezed her hand. “I had to come, my dear, but not for you. I know you would all be safer if I never went near you again.”
His voice was weak. Edgar guessed that the blow the rock had struck wasn’t the cause of his frailty. Hubert looked to him like the hermits of the forests who survive on nothing but roots and rainwater. He had the pallor of a man who never so much as smells red meat.
“You would be safe forever if you truly came back to us,” Catherine said wistfully.
Hubert sighed and loosed his hand from hers.
“That cannot be, my precious child,” he said. “No matter how much I love you, it’s only since I have returned to the faith of my ancestors that I’ve found peace. I’ve so many years to atone for, so many things to learn.”
“They don’t seem to have agreed with you, Hubert,” Edgar said. “Have you been ill?”
“No, not at all.” Hubert gave a wan smile. “But from the way my clothes hang on me, I don’t blame you for thinking it. I occupy myself so fully with my studies that I forget to eat, sometimes even to sleep. I feel as if a whole world were being shown to me, and I want to see as much as I can before I die.”
Rebecca entered the room, followed by a servant with a tray.
“You’ve all had a shock,” she announced. “I’ve made up a t
isane
to restore you. Husband, have you given Chaim a chance to explain why he’s here?”
It was a moment before Catherine remembered that Chaim was her father’s original name, before he had been taken by a Christian family and baptized.
“I was just coming to it, Rebecca,” Hubert said. “I’ve let myself wander far from the matter at hand.”
“No wonder, with that bump on the head,” Rebecca said as she poured the cups of hot spiced wine. “Imagine being attacked outside your own house!”
“As for that,” Hubert said, as Edgar began to apologize. “I’m glad you had the sense to hire guards. With all the evil roaming the streets these days, you need more protection than a few prayers and rowan branches at the windows.”
“I’m not fool enough to let charms be my family’s sole defense. But you speak as if there were a specific evil, Hubert,” Edgar said. “What is so threatening that you’d risk your life to warn us of it?”
“Nothing that would endanger you,” Hubert said. “There was something I had to leave behind last winter. Now I’ve found a safe place to put it. There was no one I could trust to send to retrieve it.”
Catherine couldn’t accept the idea. “You don’t mean that there is a treasure in the house, after all?” she said. “I told everyone that it was only a rumor.”
Hubert grimaced. “I’m sure no one believed you. Everyone thinks merchants hoard gold and jewels. But no one has given you trouble, have they? Is that why you have the guards?”
“Not precisely,” Edgar hedged. “But why didn’t you warn us long ago? The house was broken into before we got back from Germany. We thought nothing had been taken, but perhaps this treasure of yours has been stolen.”
“It can’t have been!” Hubert cried. “I hid it in the counting room and locked both the chest and the door.”
Hubert struggled to sit, but Catherine pushed him back down.
“I’ve been all over the counting room,” she told him, “And found
nothing there. And, unless you left a dead Temple knight along with your treasure, someone else was in there.”
“A what?” Hubert did sit up this time, closing his eyes at the abrupt pain in his head.
“Catherine!” Rebecca scolded her. “Think what you’re saying! Chaim, drink this and calm yourself.”
She moved Catherine away from the bed and bent over Hubert with the tisane. He sipped a little, then pushed it away. His heart was racing and his hands numb with dread.
“What were the Knights of the Temple doing in our house?” he said. “Of all people!”
“Hubert, we didn’t let them in,” Edgar told him. He proceeded to explain their discovery.
“And we still have no idea who the man was,” he finished. “We thought it might be a Lord Osto, but …”
“Osto? The Picard? What would he have been doing dressed as a brother of the Temple?” Hubert’s head was spinning. He had only been gone a few months, and it seemed that all he had left behind was in chaos.
“I don’t know,” Edgar said. “A man came looking for Osto, but said our description of the body didn’t match. The knight was a man of about your age, I’d guess, or a little younger, with blond hair going to grey.”
“Not Osto, then,” Hubert said. “He hasn’t had any hair to speak of since I’ve known him. But this makes no sense.” He pulled the blanket off and swung his legs over the bed. “I have to get home and see this for myself.”
He was overpowered by the others in a moment.
“Chaim! It’s the middle of the night,” Abraham reminded him. “You’ll stay with us, all of you, until dawn. At this hour only thieves, drunks and monks are abroad. Do you want to be challenged by the watch?”
“Catherine and I need to get back to the children,” Edgar said. “We’ll risk the ruffians. Astrolabe, will you come with us or stay?”
“I’ll come,” Astrolabe said. “The three of us on horseback should intimidate even the watch.”
Hubert was still resisting those who were trying to keep him in bed. At the mention of the children, he stopped struggling.
“My grandchildren? They haven’t been harmed by this, have they?” he asked. “And poor Margaret! She’s suffered enough for us.”
“The children were fine when we left, Father,” Catherine said. “But what you tell us, or rather,
won’t
tell us, makes me uneasy about being away from them.”
“Yes, I would like to see them again.” Hubert sighed. “I never even learned if the new one is a boy or a girl.”
Catherine winced. “The baby died, Father, in the winter. It was a girl.”
Hubert fell back onto the pillow, his eyes closed.
“I am so sorry,” he said softly. “I know well, that no matter how many survive, the ones taken from us leave an ache that lasts forever.”
“Yes,” Edgar said. His voice was harsh. It was a subject he didn’t want to discuss. “We’ll return to see you early tomorrow, Hubert. If you tell us what we’re looking for and where you left it, we can give you a report then.”
Hubert rubbed his forehead, dislodging the bandage. “Yes, very well. It’s a wooden box, the length of my arm and about two hands-breath in width and depth. I nailed it shut. I put it in the chest with the false bottom.”
Catherine stared at him. “And which one is that?”
“I showed you years ago,” Hubert said, then paused, rubbing his head. “Or maybe it was your mother. The one that holds the books. Surely you noticed how shallow it is inside?”
Catherine felt exceedingly stupid. She had noticed, but it had never occurred to her to ask why. If thieves had searched the chest, she knew they would have seen the false bottom at once.
“We’ll look there as soon as we get back,” she promised. “And bring you the box in the morning.”
 
Solomon saw them to the gate.
“Try not to be angry with him, Catherine,” he said.
Catherine bit her lip. Edgar answered for her.
“He’s put our family into danger and made it impossible to clear
ourselves of suspicion because of the need to protect him.” He spoke quietly but with great intensity. “We have every right to be furious.”
“I know,” Solomon said. “And he does, too. He’ll never find the peace he seeks unless you forgive him.”
“A man who abandons his family and the true God needs more forgiveness than I can provide,” Edgar said.
He turned away and, using his loop, pulled himself clumsily onto his horse.
Catherine gave Solomon a pleading look as Astrolabe helped her to mount the horse behind Edgar.
“Let’s not speak of it tonight,” she begged. “We need time.”
Catherine held tightly to Edgar as they made their way through the dark streets and over the bridge, where they were challenged by a startled guard but quickly permitted to pass. Edgar’s tone brooked no opposition. Catherine could feel the anger in every muscle. Her own feelings were so confused that she couldn’t sort them out. She had longed terribly to see her father again, but he had changed so much that now he seemed a stranger.
Hubert’s leaving had made it difficult for them. She knew how hard Edgar fought his own nature every time he dealt on equal terms with the merchants and craftsmen of Paris. They both hated lying about Hubert’s “pilgrimage.” They had only done so for the sake of love.
Why hadn’t he told them about the treasure before he left? Why couldn’t he have trusted them with the knowledge of what it was. Had her father been taking church plate or relics in trade? Was there something else that would prove he had always been Jewish? How could they defend themselves without knowing that much? What if intruders had ransacked the house and found this thing? What they had found was bad enough. Why, she cried in her heart, why couldn’t he have remained a Christian for their sakes, if not his own?
 
Hubert was having many of the same thoughts lying in Abraham’s house, instead of the one he had spent his whole adult life in on the Grève. He had felt the accusation in his daughter’s tone, hidden beneath her concern for him. It wasn’t even hidden in Edgar. He didn’t
blame his son-in-law for his anger. The protection of the family was the most important thing, and Hubert knew he had jeopardized that.
“I should have left it there,” he muttered. “Perhaps it never would have been found.”
“That’s right,” Abraham said. “And it would have been lost to us forever. You’re doing a brave thing, Chaim.”
Hubert turned his face to the wall.
“I doubt that my daughter would agree with you,” he said. “But thank you, old friend, and good night.”
Solomon had taken his drink over to a corner of the room and settled down on a pile of cushions. They assumed he was asleep, but his eyes were bright in the glow of the brazier, and he didn’t doze off until after the first roosters had welcomed the dawn.
 
“Edgar, I’m not going to bed until we’ve checked the book chest,” Catherine said, as he waited for Astrolabe to help her down.
“Hush, Catherine, you’ll wake the house,” Edgar said. “Do you want all the neighbors to hear?”
“Oh, dear!” She said no more until they were inside.
“Catherine! Edgar! Is he all right?”
They looked up. There at the top of the stairs sat Margaret, her braids undone and her hair flowing loose so that she seemed surrounded by an auburn curtain. Her eyes were puffy from tears and wakefulness. Catherine ran up to her at once.
“Oh,
preciocissma
!” she said as she took the girl in her arms. “Did no one tell you? Solomon is fine. Nothing has happened to him. Were you waiting all this time?”
“Didn’t the messenger I sent tell you there was no need for concern?” Astrolabe asked. “He did come, didn’t he?”
Margaret sniffed and nodded. “I thought you were just trying to keep me from worrying and coming over to see for myself.”
“Yes, we were.” Edgar came up the steps and sat on her other side. “But only because there was nothing you needed to fret about. And now look at you,
deorling
, you don’t even have slippers on. Is Samonie in the children’s room?”
“I’m here.” Samonie’s voice came from the landing above. “James
and Edana are sound asleep; Martin, too, poor boy. And I’d like to go to my bed now, as well.”
She came down the stairs, still holding the poker she had kept to hand all night to fight off villains.
Edgar couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you, Samonie,” he said. “You’ve defended the castle bravely. Sleep all you need to. Catherine and I will get up with the children tomorrow.”
Catherine moaned and yawned but nodded agreement.
“Thank you, Master,” Samonie said. “But it is tomorrow. I’ll put the barley on to soften before I sleep. Master Astrolabe, there’s water to wash in the hall and a bed made up for you.”
BOOK: To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery
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