house on a fool’s errand. I also thought when I did eventually manage to pin him down that I’d take the opportunity to smooth ruffled feathers over the Lady Adelle incident – or at least to put my side of it. It did the abbey no good to have its pastor and its physician at loggerheads with each other especially at a time when there was already enough bad feeling within the community over the election of the new abbot. As things turned out, it was a thought I rather wish I’d never had.
The prior’s house is a fine-looking two-storey building set well away from the main abbey complex within its own walled garden on the sleepy banks of the River Lark. Compared with the common dormitory, or even the few individual cells such as my own, it is a luxurious dwelling but not one begrudged of the second highest office-holder in the abbey. He rightly needs space to accommodate his large household of servants and clerks as well as suitable surroundings in which to entertain important guests. Or so he maintains.
Herbert’s office is on the upper floor of this rather grand pile and is guarded by his faithful secretary, Jephthet, a clerk in minor orders who sits at the foot of the stairs screening his master from unwanted visitors. Like all petty officials Jephthet likes to exercise what little power he has to its limit. I could not but again reflect on the contrast with Abbot Samson whose door had always been open, literally as well as metaphorically, to anybody who wished to see him - once you made it up the staircase that led to his study, of course.
On my approach Jephthet had a sudden coughing fit, loud enough certainly to be heard in the room above.
‘Ah, Jephthet – good man,’ I greeted him amiably. ‘Your master is in I take it?’ and started to go round his desk.
A skeletal hand shot out barring my way. ‘You have an appointment, master?’
‘Yes – well, no actually. Do I need one?’
‘The prior is a very busy man.’
‘Oh, my business is not great . A minute or two of his time is all I crave.’
Jephthet smiled as I imagine Aesop’s fox smiled when it first spied the grapes. ‘I can give you a minute…’ he ran an ink-stained finger down a list on his desk ‘…a week on Tuesday - in the fore-noon.’
I smiled back at him. ‘Perhaps I’ll come back when he’s less busy.’
‘Please do,’ smiled the fox.
I started to leave but turned back. ‘By the way, that’s a nasty cough you have there, Jephthet. I do hope it doesn’t turn into anything sinister.’
I did try to get to see Herbert on several more occasions but each time Jephthet had a different reason for not allowing me to pass. The man is a Cerberus guarding the gates of the Underworld, and like that multi-headed monster his eyes and ears are everywhere. I don’t believe he possesses a bladder for I have yet to go to the prior’s house and not find him sitting hunched over his desk scratching away at some scroll or other.
Subterfuge was called for. The next time Jephthet refused me access to his master I intended to accidentally upset his ink horn over his precious scrolls and in the confusion mount the stairs before he had a chance to stop me. I was quite looking forward to executing my plan which I had timed for late one evening when I was sure Herbert would be at home. However, I was to be disappointed for when I entered the hallowed sanctuary of the entrance hall I saw that for the first time ever since I had been coming to the house Jephthet’s desk was empty. Indeed, so neatly arranged and tidied was it that I decided he must have been dismissed for the night – as I later discovered to be the case.
The hallway was in darkness but there was the faintest glimmer of light coming from the next level and I began to climb the stairs. As I got to the top I could hear subdued voices coming from the other side of Herbert’s office door - it seemed Herbert already had a guest. My immediate reaction was a mixture of
The prior’s house is a fine-looking two-storey building set well away from the main abbey complex within its own walled garden on the sleepy banks of the River Lark. Compared with the common dormitory, or even the few individual cells such as my own, it is a luxurious dwelling but not one begrudged of the second highest office-holder in the abbey. He rightly needs space to accommodate his large household of servants and clerks as well as suitable surroundings in which to entertain important guests. Or so he maintains.
Herbert’s office is on the upper floor of this rather grand pile and is guarded by his faithful secretary, Jephthet, a clerk in minor orders who sits at the foot of the stairs screening his master from unwanted visitors. Like all petty officials Jephthet likes to exercise what little power he has to its limit. I could not but again reflect on the contrast with Abbot Samson whose door had always been open, literally as well as metaphorically, to anybody who wished to see him - once you made it up the staircase that led to his study, of course.
On my approach Jephthet had a sudden coughing fit, loud enough certainly to be heard in the room above.
‘Ah, Jephthet – good man,’ I greeted him amiably. ‘Your master is in I take it?’ and started to go round his desk.
A skeletal hand shot out barring my way. ‘You have an appointment, master?’
‘Yes – well, no actually. Do I need one?’
‘The prior is a very busy man.’
‘Oh, my business is not great . A minute or two of his time is all I crave.’
Jephthet smiled as I imagine Aesop’s fox smiled when it first spied the grapes. ‘I can give you a minute…’ he ran an ink-stained finger down a list on his desk ‘…a week on Tuesday - in the fore-noon.’
I smiled back at him. ‘Perhaps I’ll come back when he’s less busy.’
‘Please do,’ smiled the fox.
I started to leave but turned back. ‘By the way, that’s a nasty cough you have there, Jephthet. I do hope it doesn’t turn into anything sinister.’
I did try to get to see Herbert on several more occasions but each time Jephthet had a different reason for not allowing me to pass. The man is a Cerberus guarding the gates of the Underworld, and like that multi-headed monster his eyes and ears are everywhere. I don’t believe he possesses a bladder for I have yet to go to the prior’s house and not find him sitting hunched over his desk scratching away at some scroll or other.
Subterfuge was called for. The next time Jephthet refused me access to his master I intended to accidentally upset his ink horn over his precious scrolls and in the confusion mount the stairs before he had a chance to stop me. I was quite looking forward to executing my plan which I had timed for late one evening when I was sure Herbert would be at home. However, I was to be disappointed for when I entered the hallowed sanctuary of the entrance hall I saw that for the first time ever since I had been coming to the house Jephthet’s desk was empty. Indeed, so neatly arranged and tidied was it that I decided he must have been dismissed for the night – as I later discovered to be the case.
The hallway was in darkness but there was the faintest glimmer of light coming from the next level and I began to climb the stairs. As I got to the top I could hear subdued voices coming from the other side of Herbert’s office door - it seemed Herbert already had a guest. My immediate reaction was a mixture of
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