not, but he had to know whether or not this was a possibility.
"As
Mistress Jhone has said, my comment dealt with events long ago." Herbert's
lips curled into a sneer. "I did not respect the man, but I know of no
crime he committed in recent years."
"Old
sins sometimes return to haunt." Anything, Thomas thought, just tell me
anything.
"He
labored on priory lands," Herbert continued. "You must ask Prioress
Ida, or Sister Beatrice in her stead, about his service. For my part, I have
not heard any tales to suggest his work was not diligently done or that any of
his fellow laborers had issue with him."
"No
rumors? No suggestion of problems or worry?"
The
man folded his arms. "I will be happy to talk to the sheriff when he
returns."
Jhone
suddenly looked up at Herbert. "There was that one matter..." Her
voice was just above a whisper.
With
an abrupt gesture of his hand, Herbert interrupted her. "Nay, mistress, do
not even mention that petty thing. It would never have resulted in such a
brutal killing." He scowled at Thomas. "I fear our brother here
merely longs to satisfy some worldly interest in gossip, for he has no
authority in this matter. You and I shall talk further in private, once you
have recovered from your shock, and I will discuss what is needed with the
sheriff."
"I
meant only to save you distress," Thomas said through clenched teeth.
"And
have forgotten charity, a virtue all monks should both learn and practice? Perhaps
your intentions were benign, Brother, but your questions are impertinent and
inconsiderate. As you should see, Mistress Jhone is too upset to remain
here." Herbert waved at the monk with barely concealed contempt. "To
humor you, I will say this. Please listen carefully for I will not repeat
it." The merchant bent forward as if talking to a child and enunciated
each word slowly. "Neither of us knows any mortal who had such a wicked
hatred for the man that they would slay him in so foul a manner." He stepped
back. "Does that satisfy your small curiosity?"
Thomas
felt his face turn hot with humiliation. How dare the merchant speak to him in
this way? Bastard I might be, he shouted to himself, but I am no churl! In
thoughtless fury, he spun around and faced the pale Jhone. "You have no
idea who might have done this either?" he snapped.
The
woman looked up at the vintner with pleading eyes.
Herbert's
face darkened.
Instantly,
the monk regretted his action. Like a coward he had attacked a weak and
innocent person.
"For
a monk who claims to love compassion, Brother, you have a harsh enough tongue.
I think we have humored you enough." Herbert took the widow's arm with
tenderness. "Come, mistress. We have answered all we need of this monk's rude
queries." Firmly, he turned the woman away from Thomas, but not before
giving him a thin but triumphant smile.
The
monk denounced himself for his burst of temper that had allowed the merchant's
easy victory in this battle of wills.
When
the couple reached the entry door to the small chapel, however, Herbert
suddenly stopped. Looking back at the monk with a thoughtful expression, he
said in a tone that was almost conciliatory: "You might ask if the ghost
killed him, Brother, and if her spirit had some quarrel with him."
The
words were like cold water in Thomas' face, quenching all his fury in a trice.
As he watched the pair leave, he stared with growing uneasiness at the sunshine
streaming through the open door. If he hoped the brightness would present him
with a real killer instead of murderous ghosts, he was disappointed. The light
revealed only dust motes that drifted about with unruly grace.
Chapter
Nine
Leaning
back into her chair, Eleanor stared at Adam and Eve in the tapestry above the
chamber door and pondered the news of Wulfstan's murder.
Her
first reaction had been outrage. Not only was her beloved priory troubled with
this vile and unlawful act, but had she not come here to escape death? For the
last two years, she had been forced to deal
"As
Mistress Jhone has said, my comment dealt with events long ago." Herbert's
lips curled into a sneer. "I did not respect the man, but I know of no
crime he committed in recent years."
"Old
sins sometimes return to haunt." Anything, Thomas thought, just tell me
anything.
"He
labored on priory lands," Herbert continued. "You must ask Prioress
Ida, or Sister Beatrice in her stead, about his service. For my part, I have
not heard any tales to suggest his work was not diligently done or that any of
his fellow laborers had issue with him."
"No
rumors? No suggestion of problems or worry?"
The
man folded his arms. "I will be happy to talk to the sheriff when he
returns."
Jhone
suddenly looked up at Herbert. "There was that one matter..." Her
voice was just above a whisper.
With
an abrupt gesture of his hand, Herbert interrupted her. "Nay, mistress, do
not even mention that petty thing. It would never have resulted in such a
brutal killing." He scowled at Thomas. "I fear our brother here
merely longs to satisfy some worldly interest in gossip, for he has no
authority in this matter. You and I shall talk further in private, once you
have recovered from your shock, and I will discuss what is needed with the
sheriff."
"I
meant only to save you distress," Thomas said through clenched teeth.
"And
have forgotten charity, a virtue all monks should both learn and practice? Perhaps
your intentions were benign, Brother, but your questions are impertinent and
inconsiderate. As you should see, Mistress Jhone is too upset to remain
here." Herbert waved at the monk with barely concealed contempt. "To
humor you, I will say this. Please listen carefully for I will not repeat
it." The merchant bent forward as if talking to a child and enunciated
each word slowly. "Neither of us knows any mortal who had such a wicked
hatred for the man that they would slay him in so foul a manner." He stepped
back. "Does that satisfy your small curiosity?"
Thomas
felt his face turn hot with humiliation. How dare the merchant speak to him in
this way? Bastard I might be, he shouted to himself, but I am no churl! In
thoughtless fury, he spun around and faced the pale Jhone. "You have no
idea who might have done this either?" he snapped.
The
woman looked up at the vintner with pleading eyes.
Herbert's
face darkened.
Instantly,
the monk regretted his action. Like a coward he had attacked a weak and
innocent person.
"For
a monk who claims to love compassion, Brother, you have a harsh enough tongue.
I think we have humored you enough." Herbert took the widow's arm with
tenderness. "Come, mistress. We have answered all we need of this monk's rude
queries." Firmly, he turned the woman away from Thomas, but not before
giving him a thin but triumphant smile.
The
monk denounced himself for his burst of temper that had allowed the merchant's
easy victory in this battle of wills.
When
the couple reached the entry door to the small chapel, however, Herbert
suddenly stopped. Looking back at the monk with a thoughtful expression, he
said in a tone that was almost conciliatory: "You might ask if the ghost
killed him, Brother, and if her spirit had some quarrel with him."
The
words were like cold water in Thomas' face, quenching all his fury in a trice.
As he watched the pair leave, he stared with growing uneasiness at the sunshine
streaming through the open door. If he hoped the brightness would present him
with a real killer instead of murderous ghosts, he was disappointed. The light
revealed only dust motes that drifted about with unruly grace.
Chapter
Nine
Leaning
back into her chair, Eleanor stared at Adam and Eve in the tapestry above the
chamber door and pondered the news of Wulfstan's murder.
Her
first reaction had been outrage. Not only was her beloved priory troubled with
this vile and unlawful act, but had she not come here to escape death? For the
last two years, she had been forced to deal
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