34

Thomas walked down the hall to the small room where Richard was confined.

In front of the door, two soldiers sat playing with dice. One was grinning; the other looked grim.

Father Eliduc emerged from the youth’s cell and turned to shut the door. Before he had a chance to react to the wickedness of gambling taking place at his feet, he saw the monk and hurried toward him.

“He is in better spirits, Brother!” Unlike his usual contrived looks, his smile appeared to be genuinely happy. “The sheriff allowed the lad to pray by his grandfather’s corpse, albeit under heavy guard.”

Thomas said nothing. The sheriff had permitted this at the request of Baron Hugh, but the priest’s demeanor suggested he had been the source of the kindness instead. The monk was outraged but knew it was best not to speak until his temper had cooled.

No matter what the circumstances, he loathed being in the priest’s company, but Thomas had to use this convenient meeting to find out why the word document and the name Eliduc were mentioned together just before Maynard was killed. This is for Richard, he reminded himself, and he would do anything to prove him innocent.

Eliduc was looking up at the monk with an expression of such freshly hewn innocence that even his breath smelled like newly chopped wood. “I have been thinking about details learned in this tragic series of violent acts, and I have decided that something I know, which I otherwise considered of no interest in this matter, might be mentioned.”

Thomas replied to this with a look of well-chiseled curiosity. Was the priest about to tell him what Prioress Eleanor had wanted him to ask? If so, he still suspected the motive. Father Eliduc was deceitful, yet not without his occasional virtue. It was harder to deal with those of mixed integrity. When someone was focused solely on evil, it was easier to know what to do. With others, one never knew whether to rejoice or flee.

“Let us step away from ears that flap like the wings of young birds.” The priest gestured to a private spot near a window.

While Thomas looked down at the courtyard filled with tradesmen, beasts, and a few hopeful beggars, Eliduc lowered his head as if praying for guidance.

The monk waited.

“In the months leading up to the raids on homes of coin-clippers, Lumbard ben David sent for me. After the Statute of the Jewry was enacted, he had suffered a growing fear that hatred for those of his faith might lead to violence. As he noted, King Edward had found another source of income with Italian bankers, the Riccardi. The reasons for protecting the Jews had therefore diminished, and the increasing taxation, as well as restrictions on money-lending, had begun to impoverish many.”

“He might have left England if he feared for his safety.”

“Indeed. Many have since the Statute, but ben David was reluctant to do so. He was a physician, not a money-lender, and Oxford had been home to his family since they arrived from Rouen at King William’s behest.”

What must it be like, Thomas wondered, never to feel secure in a place and be forced to leave a land where the family had lived for so many generations? He had lost his dwelling and family when he was thrown into prison, but he had found another home at Tyndal Priory and had no fear he might be displaced from it.

“His reason for calling on me was to pay for protection.”

“Pay you for protection?” This was intriguing, the monk thought.

“Not me. He wanted to pay the Church to protect him and his family.”

“Then he wished to convert?”

“Sadly, he was stubborn in his misguided faith, but, as I assume you know, the Church can sometimes be more patient in these matters than kings.”

That depended on the pope, Thomas thought, but King Edward was not known for his patience in matters he cared about. Like his father, he was a deeply pious man and looked upon conversion of the Jews as one of his fervent goals. He had continued to maintain a house where converts to Christianity might live, albeit in simple monastic style, and which was paid for, in part, by a tax on the Jewish community.

“I shall make this story a short one. Ben David offered to give his house and other material goods to the Church in exchange for protection should he be in danger from a riot against the Jews. In my presence, he signed a document stating that all his property, other than an agreed amount required to support his family, would revert to the Church after his death.”

“But the Church did not save his life.”

“He was accused of treason and hanged, Brother. The Church would not wish to argue against the evidence found within his house that proved he was a traitor to the king. That is quite different from threats due to a riot.”

“As I have heard, everything went to the king.”

“It did, although the document, had it been presented, might have caused our king to bow to the Church’s interest.” His smile dripped like sweet honey on hot bread. “Our king is devout. Ben David’s property would have gone into his coffers, as the possessions of all traitors do, but I am confident he would not have denied the Church generous recompense had he seen the agreement.”

“What happened to this item?”

“Ben David had it in his possession. Out of fear, he hesitated to give it to me, lest he need proof that he was under Church protection if violence occurred. I saw him put it into a box and place it with his other important records.”

“Why did he not show it to the soldiers the night he was arrested?”

“The men had the damning evidence of treason when they entered the house. Ben David was arrested and hauled away in chains. I doubt he had time to present the document. Even if he had, he was condemned under the king’s law.”

“Then they knew where to look for the coin-clipping items,” Thomas murmured. “Perhaps someone did hide the proof so ben David would be arrested even though he was innocent.”

Eliduc looked impatient.

The monk suddenly realized what the priest was more interested in. “Of course, the physician did not produce the agreement, did he? Had he done so, Sir Walter would have brought it to the king’s attention before any action was taken to sell the house and dispose of the valuables.”

Eliduc smiled with relief that the monk was no longer distracted by conclusions of little concern to him.

“And the document has disappeared?”

Father Eliduc brightened as if faced with a clever student. “I think it was stolen, along with other valuable items, when the house was plundered that night after ben David’s arrest.”

Thomas felt like stars were exploding in his head as reasons for the recent events began to link. “Prioress Eleanor found a casket very well-hidden in a chest in Mistress Hawis’ chambers. The lock had been broken, and casket was inexplicably empty. An unnamed document was mentioned between Maynard and his slayer. Might she have had this item?” He did not mention that Eliduc’s name had been spoken as well. The link was now clear.

“If she did, I cannot imagine where she got it.” Eliduc scowled. “I am sure she was incapable of reading anything, most certainly Latin, but, if she knew the content, she might have seen a use for it. Had Mistress Hawis confronted the queen with the agreement, the woman could have hoped the queen would change her mind about dismissing her. After all, if the Church was supposed to get ben David’s property, the king could be accused of stealing from the Church when he put the profits into his own coffers.” He thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “I doubt she was that clever. She probably did not know what was in it, but, if not, why keep it?”

A loud burst of laughter from one of the soldiers caused Eliduc to spin around and glare. He ignored the triumphant look on the one, who had previously been so sad, and reprimanded them both for their sins.

Although the men tried to look contrite, they failed.

The priest lost interest, turned back to Thomas, and shook his head.

The soldiers went back to their game of dice.

“I doubt she had the document,” Eliduc said. “I see no reason why she should.”

“Maybe she knew the robber, and he gave it to her?”

“Why would he have done so? As I said, unless the thief was a cleric, a most doubtful conclusion, he wouldn’t have known what the document meant. I think he stole it, but wanted the well-crafted box it was in. Surely, the thief would not have cared about ben David’s papers. They were of no worth to anyone except those who owed money to the physician, and, as I have heard, Sir Walter burned the debt records. If we find the robber, we may find the document if he has not destroyed it before selling the casket it was in.”

Thomas tried again. “This kind of theft leads to the scaffold. If Mistress Hawis knew who that person was, she might have been killed to keep her silent.”

“And Maynard? And Sir Walter? Why were they attacked?”

Thomas was frustrated. There was something crucial missing here, but he could not see it. Finally, he gave up and asked the one question which he was certain would result in a useful answer. “Why are you telling me about this missing agreement between ben David and the Church?”

“To help save Richard’s life.”

“That is not the reason. Richard is innocent, a conclusion that the sheriff has come to see. He waits only for the killer to be found before he releases the lad. If nothing is resolved, he will eventually let him go anyway. What do you really want to achieve?”

“I want the thief found. Whether or not he is guilty of killing the woman, as you suggest, there is no reason why we cannot decide he is the culprit. As one who robbed the possessions of traitors, he is a traitor for he stole from the king. Why not a murderer? He will hang anyway, and Richard will be freed of all blame.”

“And let the real killer go free? Are we to ignore justice?”

Eliduc’s expression was grim. “I also want what is due the Church returned to it. If the king is presented with the agreement between ben David and the Church, the king may not be able to give the house and possessions back, but he can honor his duty to God and gift the Church appropriately.”

“And ben David’s mother and his daughters? What do they regain?”

“I fear they have lost all, Brother. No one can say what they may be owed, if anything. Ben David’s innocence cannot be proven so we must assume he was guilty of treason, as he was originally found. This whole matter is between the king and the Church.” He smiled. “Perhaps the women will convert and live under the benevolence of King Edward’s charity.”

Thomas felt his anger ready to explode. No matter what their faith, this old woman and her granddaughters deserved better. Forced conversion was no conversion at all. Not only was that his judgment, but it was also the stated opinion of several Churchmen who were far wiser than he.

But his fury would solve nothing, and he pushed it back. The one who had killed two and attacked another must be found or the grandmother might still be hanged and the girls as well. If it was the thief, and the priest’s precious document was found, all would be content. But he wanted the murderer caught, not appointed as a convenient solution.

“You must tell Prioress Eleanor about this, then the sheriff,” he said with an exhausting effort to appear calm. “The information about the missing agreement may lead us to the killer, a result for which we all pray. Surely you would agree that there must be no doubt about Richard’s innocence, once he is freed. None of us would want suspicion to linger because the actual killer remained free.” He hesitated for emphasis.

Eliduc’s expression suggested he was suffering more conflict than he ought to be. A man of secrets, he was disinclined to such cooperation with others, but the struggle was quite short. In a tone that was uncharacteristically sincere and obliging, he agreed.

For a brief moment, the monk pondered this rare show of graciousness. Might the priest have actually grown fond of the lad, apart from any use he might have for Richard in the future? As Thomas and the priest walked away, he decided against that conclusion. When had he ever seen evidence that Father Eliduc possessed a heart?

Behind them, the soldiers continued their game in which Fortune was once again smiling on the man who had won first.