Cloister garth. A little later.
As soon as they entered, Egbert noticed them, detached himself from a group of Benedictines and came over. After a brief greeting he told them that Gregory had gone down to the apple store where Aelwyn’s body had been found. The infirmarer and several monks, including the prior, had invited him to go with them.
‘They’re there now,’ he added. ‘I think we might go over ourselves – only in the cause of Christian charity and because we met him and found him a most congenial fellow.’ He glanced from one to the other. ‘Yes?’
‘Tell us what you really think,’ Hildegard invited.
‘I do really think that. It is the right thing to think. What you may mean, Hildegard, is what do I think in addition?’
‘You clearly have other thoughts about the matter.’
‘Let’s go over first and then I’ll tell you if it seems relevant.’
He gave one of his close smiles.
Without further discussion the three of them set off through the gatehouse to where, behind a low wall, orchards of apple and pear trees were planted on terraces overlooking the harbour. Clipped trees, leafless at this time of year, stretched in row after row under the shelter of the headland. At the far end on rising ground was a long stone-built store shed. When he was within hailing distance Egbert announced them and one of the abbey servants appeared from inside.
‘Welcome, brother.’
An elderly monk with a flushed face and streaming nose appeared behind him. ‘Brother, most timely. I am back to my bed now. I trust I may leave this matter in Cistercian hands. We have been won over by Brother Gregory’s argument.’
Gregory stooped under the lintel to come outside. ‘The infirmarer, Brother Dunstan, is suffering with a fever and will fare best in bed with a cure. I’ve told him that as outsiders we are well placed to attend to matters. The prior has given us free rein to do what we need to. Pray enter, all of you.’
The infirmarer nodded his gratitude and, accompanied by his servant, stumbled back down the terrace towards the precinct. Several others, apparently after having already discussed their usefulness, followed in melancholy order.
‘Come,’ Gregory gestured. ‘This is a strange business. There’s no sign of violence on the body. The monks are at a loss to explain why a hale and hearty fellow like Aelwyn should drop dead for no apparent reason.’
The interior of the store was pitch dark. Fortunately for the task of examining the body, Aelwyn lay in a shaft of light that came through the inward-opening doorway. His body had been pushed back by the force that had to be exerted to open the door, but that aside there seemed to be no further marks on the body other than ones usual in a monk going peacefully about his day.
‘Who found him?’
‘We did.’ A voice came from deeper within the store.
A frightened young fellow of about fifteen with a blaze of red hair tied back with a green tie stepped forward. He was shadowed by another lad with hair cut in a pudding bowl style like a mercenary. The first one said, ‘We were sent to fetch apples before Prime—’
‘They’re kitcheners,’ explained Gregory. ‘They fetch and carry. This morning was the first time they’ve been up here since yesterday when all was well.’
The red-haired lad nodded. ‘And the door had its beam down on the outside as always. I lifted it up and Will pushed the door to open it.’
‘But it wouldn’t open,’ added his companion. ‘Something was wedging it shut.’
‘So we put our boots to it.’ The red-head looked pleased at their obvious initiative.
‘And bit by bit,’ interrupted Will in a voice dark with foreboding, ‘we were able to force it open.’
‘And when it was open wide enough to put our heads inside—’
‘We saw him!’
‘Lying there behind the door!’
‘Stiff as death.’
‘But peaceful, like, as if he’d fallen asleep.’
The two youths folded their arms and looked solemn, waiting for judgement.
‘See for yourselves,’ Gregory invited.
Hildegard stepped round the door and peered down at the body. It was the same monk she and Torold had met coming up through the rain from the town on their arrival. Poor Aelwyn. He did, indeed, look peaceful. ‘No sign of violence?’ she asked, to make sure.
‘None, domina,’ the elder of the two boys replied. ‘He’s just as we found him.’
Gregory nodded agreement.
‘We ran like the Devil,’ Will, the younger one, admitted. His friend nudged him and he looked shamed.
‘I’m sure anyone would run if they found a dead man behind a door,’ murmured Hildegard. ‘How did you know he was dead and not just sleeping?’
‘Cos I touched him, thinking exactly that, but he was stiff and his cheek, which I also touched, was right cold, just like stone.’
‘You gave a big yelp and grabbed my arm …’ Will piped up.
‘And of course you had to shake free and come back to have another look and then you ran, yourself, if you’re being honest, it was not only me, and we finished up with the Master Kitchener telling us not to be such right sot-wits and where was this so-called dead man.’
‘And he came up with a couple of fellows all ready to beat the daylights out of us until they saw for themselves we were telling the truth.’
‘Then all hell broke loose,’ added the red-haired youth. ‘The lord prior had to be sent for.’
‘It’s not our fault,’ said Will.
He went pale at the sudden thought that they might be blamed and it was clear that the horror of potential retribution had only at that moment occurred to him.
‘Of course it’s not your fault, if what you say is true,’ Hildegard reassured him. ‘He must have been lying here all night. Why would he come up here?’
‘Same as us. To get apples for the kitchens.’
‘We know who sent him and when.’ Gregory looked down at the body. ‘Poor, sad fellow.’
‘Not so sad, an’ all,’ one of the boys said, then clamped his lips shut.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Hildegard.
‘Nothing much … only that it must be a nice life, being a monk and being waited on and that.’ A sidelong glance from under his thatch of red hair was ostentatiously ignored by his companion, as if to avoid any accusation of complicity after this obvious extemporization. Now was not the time, thought Hildegard, to follow up that out-of-place remark.
She bent down and took a closer look at the way Aelwyn was lying. A few apples lay next to him, neatly placed as if he had put them to one side while he had a nap. A bluish tinge lingered round his mouth and his knuckles, she noticed, were raw and bloodied.
Standing up, she peered at the inside of the door where someone might have reached out to batter on it, to draw attention to the fact that they were trapped. Some dark lines like dried blood were caught between the splinters of planking. Evidently Aelwyn had tried to attract attention but no-one had heard him. That was no puzzle. The store was set well out of range of any of the abbey buildings.
But why had it ended in death? Finding that someone had accidentally dropped the beam without realizing that there was still someone inside the store, he might have settled down for the night, an uncomfortable one without doubt, but with a few sacks pulled over him from the pile near the door he might have slept safely until the morning when someone could be expected to appear and release him.
Egbert had been silent for a while and now went deeper into the store to look round. On dozens of wooden shelves stretching far back into the darkness the summer fruits lay neatly arranged to feed the monks throughout the winter. It had been a good harvest and the shelves were still almost full. Hildegard followed him. There was nothing much else to see. She turned back with the ripe, sweet scent of apples filling the air. The deeper inside the store the stronger the scent became. Egbert gave a cough and followed her into the light.
‘We shall not move the body yet,’ Gregory told the boys. ‘Will one of you run down and find a couple of men to stand guard over him?’
Both boys jostled to be the one to get away from this tainted place and in the end they were both told to go together.
‘Sot-wits,’ murmured Egbert when they were out of earshot. ‘Is it the first time they’ve seen somebody dead?’
‘It could well be,’ Hildegard suggested. ‘They’re kitchen lads. Probably the only thing they’ve seen dead is a shoal of herring and some venison.’
Gregory was puckering his brow. ‘He came up here after midday, apparently. The kitcheners were pleased with the reception their spiced apple concoction received and decided to make a special one for the abbot and a guest he was entertaining at his own table last night. It must have been that fellow from Glastonbury. Brother Aelwyn was present and offered to walk down to bring a few back as everybody was busy preparing the feast. He said he needed to clear his head.’
‘Was he not feeling well?’ Hildegard asked.
‘They say he often came out here for solitude but there was something to do with an argument he said he’d had and he needed to calm himself before going into the next Office—’
‘Which was Nones?’ Gregory nodded.
‘Who did you get this from?’ she asked.
‘The head kitchener himself. And no, he didn’t say what the argument was about because we did not then suspect that foul play was a possibility.’
‘And do we now?’ Egbert scratched his head. ‘I know I do. I’ve heard the monks gossiping. He was regarded by some with great suspicion, if not with fear for the possibility that he had the power to conjure the Devil.’
Gregory shrugged. ‘It didn’t do him much good then, did it? The important point is, somebody barred the door with him inside.’
‘And when the door was shut and he was plunged into darkness the natural thing would be to batter on the door and yell to be let out,’ added Hildegard.
‘A plea that was clearly ignored,’ Gregory affirmed.
‘Maybe it was shut carelessly, whoever did it hurried off and didn’t hear his shouts, and he died from shock?’ suggested Hildegard. Even she sounded unconvinced by this argument and added, ‘There’s sure to be at least one deaf monk in the abbey – or a serving man.’
‘I suppose it’s a possibility. And yet the infirmarer was in a position to know whether Aelwyn had any physical weakness, and he was adamant that he was known for his vitality – “fit as a flea up and down that cliff side,” he told me when I put the question to him.’ Gregory frowned.
Two burly servants were making their way towards the store and when they presented themselves were instructed to stop anybody going inside until the body was moved. ‘Shall we be here all day and night?’ one of them asked. ‘Only it’s feast time and we’re missing out.’
‘What are you missing?’ Egbert wanted to know.
‘Events in the town,’ he admitted. ‘The usual sort of thing.’
Egbert gave him a look as if he knew exactly what sort of thing the fellow was alluding to and, in a comradely fashion, told him he would come up himself after Compline if they would do him the favour of hanging on until then, and he would himself take over from them until the night Office. ‘Then we’ll have to think again.’
‘Does that mean we have to trail back up before midnight?’ the man persisted.
‘Not at all. You stay down there if you so wish. My brother Cistercians will come to my aid.’ He clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Worry not, friend. Be thankful, merely, that it is not you lying dead on the cold, hard earth.’
Shamefacedly the man nodded his thanks. ‘It’s not that we don’t want to look out for him, but after all, he lived off the fat in every way, so why should we be put out for a fellow who lived so well? This is our only chance to see what it’s like.’
His companion shook his head. ‘Come on, he was a good lad when you take all into account. Better than most, considering.’
Before they could get into a discussion about Aelwyn’s merits and demerits Gregory moved briskly off. ‘Settled then. Until shortly after Compline. Give my brother here time to walk up from the refectory.’
The two were settling themselves on the ground outside the store by the time Egbert closed the door and dropped the bar back into place.
‘Till later then,’ he said, following the others.
All this time Luke had been silent. Now Gregory turned to him. ‘So what did the lady Sabine tell you about him?’
Luke stuck his lip out and muttered about Gregory being too sarcastic for his own good. ‘The Wheel of Fortune turns as it will and the ones at the top may be brought low and the lowly, as we are enjoined to believe, may rise through piety and the will of God … All right, then,’ he conceded when this brought no response, ‘maybe there is something odd about seeking refuge in the stews. I’m not a sot-wit. I know what you’re thinking.’ He was reluctant to say much more but finally seemed forced to explain. ‘She admitted she knew about Aelwyn already, before I even saw her after Prime. She said somebody from the abbey had come down specially to tell her but would not say who it was. She shook her head and avoided my glance.’
Gregory was puzzled. ‘Why would anyone think to tell her? Was something going on between those two? He seemed to take a great interest in her.’
‘And who wouldn’t?’ Luke remarked.
It was left like that with no further comment.
The bell summoning the monks to the Holy Offices was as powerful as an iron chain drawing them back every few hours to their obligations. Feeling no requirement to stand humbly behind the screen at the west end of the church, Hildegard made her way thoughtfully down the cliff path towards the town with the music of the choir fading as she went. When she drew level with the parish church she paused and decided in a moment to go inside.
It was already full of people from the town. As she slipped in at the back and stood among them she realized the whispers were for Aelwyn. Anger was almost palpable until the rector climbed into the pulpit and spread both palms in blessing.
It was soon over. With sideways glances the congregation began to leave, knots of gossips lingering in the graveyard, a few tears being shed. For a monk, leading a relatively cloistered life, Aelwyn seemed to have endeared himself to many in the town.
A woman’s voice came to her clearly from one of the groups as she continued on her way down the path. It was a complaint. ‘Evil eye my arse,’ she was declaiming. ‘He didn’t deserve it, monk or not. Somebody must have done it!’
‘What does her down there think …?’
The reply was lost on the air. Unobtrusively Hildegard moved near enough without drawing attention to herself. When she had a chance she asked the woman standing nearest, ‘Poor fellow, how did it happen? Was it a seizure?’
‘He’s done for him just as he feared he would …’ The woman bit her tongue and gave Hildegard a sudden wary grimace. ‘Hold on, who are you when you’re at home? Are you one of them?’ She gestured up towards the abbey.
‘I’m a guest,’ Hildegard replied honestly.
On hearing this the woman eyed her with outright suspicion. ‘Oh aye? Spying for the abbot, are you?’
‘Not at all. I hardly know him.’
The woman turned a defensive shoulder. ‘Come on, you lot. Keep your lips buttoned or it’ll be us next. There’s a spy among us!’
In a hostile group they went out on to the path and Hildegard had no choice but to let them go.
Hildegard scrambled the rest of the way down the cliff and when she reached the burned hovel she found it in the same sad state as before. The congregation had dispersed. With no-one around except the same neighbour peering out of her doorway, she paused to give her time to come over. This time, however, the neighbour bobbed out of sight thinking she hadn’t been noticed.
By the look of things Sabine had abandoned her cottage in some haste. Its desolation looked final. The door, blown by the wind, creaked on its hinges. Whatever sticks of furniture had been there – the bed in the corner, a rough table – had been taken away, leaving only a broken crock on the packed earthen floor and a pile of ashes in the fire pit.
A sharp prick of conscience reminded Hildegard of the conditions up at the abbey and, more, the polished but austere comfort of her own abbot’s house at Meaux.
Intending to go on down the hill towards the quay, she turned the corner on to Church Street.