Heretic.

Brother Clement opened his mouth in a big smile and Thomas saw the monk had no tongue. A rat rustled in the thatch and the small monk seized a triple-p.r.o.nged eel spear and began jabbing violently at the straw which only succeeded in tearing great holes in the roof.

Genevieve slept.

Brother Clement went to see to his lepers" needs, then came back with a brazier and a clay pot in which he had some embers. He lit a bundle of tinder in the brazier, fed the fire with wood and, when it was smoking and red hot, he shoved the quarrel that had wounded Genevieve into the glowing heart of the fire. The leather vanes scorched and stank. Brother Clement nodded happily and Thomas understood that the little monk was curing her wound by punishing the thing that had caused it. Then, when the offending quarrel had been punished by fire, Brother Clement tiptoed to Genevieve"s side, peered at her, and smiled happily. He pulled two dirty blankets from under the table and Thomas spread them over her.

He left her sleeping. He had to water the horses, let them graze and then stable them in the monastery"s wine press. He hoped to see Abbot Planchard, but the monks were at prayer and they were still in the abbey church after Thomas, imitating Brother Clement, had made the mare scream by jerking the quarrel from her haunch. He had to step smartly back to avoid her lashing rear hooves. When she had settled he soaked the wound in water, patted her neck, then carried the saddles, bridles, arrows, bows and bags to the shed where Genevieve was now awake. She lay propped against a sack and Brother Clement, making his little clucking noises, was feeding her a soup of mushrooms and sorrel. He gave Thomas a happy smile, then tipped his head towards the yard from where came the sound of singing. It was the lepers, and Brother Clement hummed along with their tune.

There was more soup and bread for Thomas. After he had eaten, and when Brother Clement had gone to wherever he spent his nights, Thomas lay beside Genevieve. It still hurts," she said, but not like it did."

That"s good."

It didn"t hurt when the arrow hit. It was just like getting a punch."

You"ll get better," he said fervently.

Do you know what they were singing?" she asked. No."

The song of Herric and Alloise. They were lovers. A very long time ago." She reached up and traced a finger down the long unshaven line of his jaw. Thank you," she said. After a while she slept again. Small shafts of moonlight came through the ragged thatch and Thomas could see sweat on her forehead. But at least she was breathing more deeply and, after a time, Thomas fell asleep.

He slept badly. Sometimes in the night he dreamed of horses"

hooves and of men shouting and he woke to find it was no dream, but real, and he sat up as the monastery"s bell began to toll the alarm. He pushed off the blankets, thinking he should go to see what had caused the disturbance, but then the bell stopped its clamour and the night became quiet again.

And Thomas slept once more.

Thomas woke with a start, realizing there was a man standing above him. It was a tall man, his looming height outlined against the pale light of dawn showing in the hut doorway. Thomas instinctively twisted away and reached for his sword, but the man stepped back and made a hushing sound. I did not mean to wake you. he said softly in a voice that was deep and held no threat. Thomas sat up to see it was a monk who had spoken. He could not see the monk"s face for it was dark in the hut, but then the tall, white-robed man stepped forward again to peer at Genevieve. How is your friend?" he asked.

Genevieve was sleeping. A strand of golden hair shivered at her mouth with every breath. She was feeling better last night. Thomas said softly.

That"s good. the monk said fervently, then stepped back again to the doorway. He had picked up Thomas"s bow as he stooped to look at Genevieve and now he examined the bow in the thin grey light. Thomas, as ever, felt uncomfortable when a stranger handled the weapon, but he said nothing and, after a while, the monk propped the bow against Brother Clement"s medicine table. I would like to talk with you. the monk said. Shall we meet in the cloisters in a few moments?"

It was a cold morning. A dew lay on the gra.s.s between the olive trees and on the lawn in the cloister"s centre. There was a circular communal trough at one corner of the cloisters where the monks, with one prayer service already behind them, splashed their faces and hands, and Thomas first looked for the tall monk among the washing men, but then saw him sitting on a low wall between two pillars of the southern arcade. The monk gestured to him and Thomas saw that he was very old, with a face deeply lined and somehow full of kindness. Your friend," the old monk said when Thomas joined him, is in excellent hands. Brother Clement is a most skilled healer, but he and Brother Ramon don"t agree about things, so I have to keep them apart. Ramon looks after the infir mary and Clement tends the lepers. Ramon is a proper physician, trained at Montpellier, so of course we have to defer to him, but he seems to have no remedies other than prayer and copious bleeding. He uses them for every ailment, while Brother Clement, I suspect, uses his own kind of magic. I should probably disap prove of that, but I am forced to say that if I was sick I would prefer Brother Clement to treat me." He smiled at Thomas. My name is Planchard."

The abbot?"

Indeed. And you are most welcome to our house. I am sorry I could not greet you yesterday. And Brother Clement tells me you were alarmed at being in the lazar house? There"s no need. My experience is that the condition is not promoted by contact with others. I have been visiting the lepers for forty years and have yet to lose a finger, and Brother Clement lives and worships with them and he has never been touched by the disease." The abbot paused and made the sign of the cross and Thomas at first thought the old man was warding off the evil thought of catching leprosy, then he saw that Planchard was looking at something across the cloister. He followed the Abbot"s gaze and saw a body being carried on a stretcher. It was obviously a corpse for the face was covered with a white cloth and there was a crucifix balanced on the chest which fell off after a few steps so that the monks had to stop and retrieve it. We had excitement here last night. Planchard said mildly. Excitement?"

You probably heard the bell? It was rung too late, I fear. Two men came to the monastery after dark. Our gate is never shut, so they had no trouble entering. They tied the gatekeeper hand and foot, then went to the infirmary. The Count of Berat was there. He was attended by his squire and three of his men-at-arms who had survived a horrid little fight in the next valley," the Abbot waved a hand towards the west, but if he knew or suspected that Thomas had been involved in that fight, he made no comment, and one of the men-at-arms was sleeping in the Count"s chamber. He woke up when the killers came, and so he died and then the Count"s throat was cut and the two killers ran for their lives." The old abbot recounted these events in a flat voice, as though foul murders were commonplace in Saint Sevet"s.

The Count of Berat?" Thomas asked.

A sad man. Planchard said. I quite liked him, but I fear he was one of G.o.d"s fools. He was astonishingly learned, but possessed no sense. He was a hard master to his tenants, but good to the Church. I used to think he was trying to buy his way into heaven, but actually he was seeking a son and G.o.d never rewarded that desire. Poor man, poor man." Planchard stared as the dead Count was carried to the gatehouse, then smiled gently at Thomas. Some of my monks insisted you must be the murderer." Me!" Thomas exclaimed.

I know it was not you. Planchard said. The real murderers were seen leaving. Galloping into the night." He shook his head. But the brothers can get very excited and, alas, our house has been much disturbed of late. Forgive me, I did not ask your name." Thomas."

A good name. Just Thomas?"

Thomas of Hookton."

That sounds very English. Planchard said. And you are what? A soldier?"

An archer."

Not a friar?" Planchard asked in grave amus.e.m.e.nt. Thomas half smiled. You know about that?"

I know that an English archer called Thomas went to Castillon d"Arbizon dressed as a friar. I know he spoke good Latin. I know he took the castle, and I know that he then spread misery in the countryside. I know he caused many tears, Thomas, many tears. Folk who struggled all their lives to build something for their children saw it burned in minutes."

Thomas did not know what to say. He stared at the gra.s.s. You must know more than that. he said after a while.

I know that you and your companion are excommunicated. Planchard said.

Then I should not be here. Thomas said, gesturing at the cloister. I was excluded from holy precincts," he added bitterly. You are here at my invitation," Planchard said mildly, and if G.o.d disapproves of that invitation then it will not be long before he has a chance to demand an explanation from me." Thomas looked at the abbot who endured his scrutiny patiently. There was something about Planchard, Thomas thought, that reminded him of his own father, though without the madness. But there was a saintliness and a wisdom and an authority in the old lined face and Thomas knew he liked this man. Liked him very much. He looked away. I was protecting Genevieve. he muttered, explaining away his excommunication.

The beghard?"

She"s no beghard. Thomas said.

I would be surprised if she was. Planchard said, for I very much doubt if there are any beghards in these parts. Those heretics congregate in the north. What are they called? The Brethren of the Free Spirit. And what is it they believe? That everything comes from G.o.d, so everything is good! It"s a beguiling idea, is it not? Except when they say everything they mean exactly that, every thing. Every sin, every deed, every theft.

Genevieve is no beghard. Thomas repeated the denial, though the firmness of his tone did not reflect any conviction. I"m sure she"s a heretic. Planchard said mildly, but which of us is not? And yet. his mild tone vanished as his voice became stern," she is also a murderer.

Which of us is not?" Thomas echoed.

Planchard grimaced. She killed Father Roubert." Who had tortured her. Thomas said. He drew up his sleeve and showed the abbot the burn scars on his arm. I too killed my torturer and he too was a Dominican."

The abbot gazed up at the sky that was clouding over. Thomas"s confession of murder did not seem to disturb him, indeed his next words even suggested he was ignoring it completely. I was reminded the other day. he said, of one of the psalms of David. Dominus reget me et nihil mihi deerit."

In loco pascuae ibi conlocavit," Thomas finished the quotation. I can see why they thought you were a friar. Planchard said, amused. But the implication of the psalm, is it not, is that we are sheep and that G.o.d is our shepherd? Why else would He put us in a pasture and protect us with a staff? But what I have never fully understood is why the shepherd blames the sheep when they become ill."

G.o.d blames us?"

Icannot speak for G.o.d," Planchard said, only for the Church. What did Christ say? Ego sum pastor bonus, bonus pastor animam suam dat pro ovibus."" He paid Thomas the compliment of not translating the words which meant: I am the good shepherd and the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep." And the Church," Planchard went on, continues Christ"s ministry, or it is supposed to, yet some churchmen are sadly enthusiastic about culling their flock." And you are not?"

I am not," Planchard said firmly, but don"t let that weakness in me persuade you that I approve of you. I do not approve of you, Thomas, and I do not approve of your woman, but nor can I approve of a Church that uses pain to bring the love of G.o.d to a sinful world. Evil begets evil, it spreads like a weed, but good works are tender shoots that need husbandry." He thought for a while, then smiled at Thomas. But my duty is clear enough, is it not? I should give both of you to the Bishop of Berat and let his fire do G.o.d"s work."

And you," Thomas said bitterly, are a man who does his duty." I am a man who tries, G.o.d help me, to be good. To be what Christ wanted us to be. Duty is sometimes imposed by others and we must always examine it to see if it helps us to be good. I do not approve of you, either of you, but nor do I see what good will come from burning you. So I will do my duty to my conscience which does not instruct me to send you to the bishop"s fire. Besides," he smiled again, burning you would be an awful waste of Brother Clement"s endeavours. He tells me he is calling a bone-setter from the village and she will try to repair your Genevieve"s rib, though Brother Clement warns me that ribs are very hard to mend." Brother Clement talked to you?" Thomas asked, surprised. Dear me, no! Poor Brother Clement can"t talk at all! He was a galley slave once. The Mohammedans captured him in a raid on Leghorn, I think, or was it Sicily? They tore his tongue out, I a.s.sume because he insulted them, and then they cut off some thing else which is why, I suspect, he became a monk after he was rescued by a Venetian galley. Now he tends to the beehives and looks after our lepers. And how do we talk to each other? Well, he points and he gestures and he makes drawings in the dust and somehow we manage to understand one another."

So what will you do with us?" Thomas asked.

Do? Me? I shall do nothing! Except pray for you and to say farewell when you leave. But I would like to know why you are here."

Because I was excommunicated," Thomas said bitterly, and my companions wanted nothing more to do with me." I mean why you came to Gascony in the first place," Planchard asked patiently.

The Earl of Northampton sent me," Thomas said. I see. Planchard said, his tone implying he knew Thomas was evading the question. And the Earl had his reasons, did he?" Thomas said nothing. He saw Philin across the cloister and raised a hand in greeting and the coredor smiled back; the smile suggesting that his son, like Genevieve, was recovering from the arrow wound. Planchard persisted. The Earl had reasons, Thomas?" Castillon d"Arbizon was once his property. He wanted it back." It was his property," Planchard said tartly, for a very short time, and I cannot think that the Earl is so bereft of land that he needs send men to defend an insignificant town in Gascony, especially after a truce was signed at Calais. He must have sent you to break that truce for a very special reason, don"t you think?" He paused, then smiled at Thomas"s obduracy. Do you know any more of that psalm which begins Dominus reget me?"

Some," Thomas said vaguely.

Then perhaps you know the words calix meus inebrians?" My cup makes me drunk," Thomas said.

Because I looked at your bow this morning, Thomas," Planchard said, out of nothing but idle curiosity. I have heard so much about the English war bow, but I have not seen one for many years. But yours, I noticed, had something which I suspect most bows do not. A silver plate. And on the plate, young man, was the badge of the Vexilles."

My father was a Vexille. Thomas said.

So you"re n.o.bly born?"

b.a.s.t.a.r.d born," Thomas said. He was a priest." Your father was a priest?" Planchard sounded surprised. A priest. Thomas confirmed, in England."

I heard some of the Vexilles had fled there," Planchard said, but that was many years ago. Before my memories begin. So why does a Vexille return to Astarac?"

Thomas said nothing. Monks were going to work, carrying hoes and stakes out of the gate. Where were they taking the dead Count?" he asked, trying to evade the abbot"s question. He must go to Berat, of course, to be buried with his ancestrs," Planchard said, and his body will be stinking by the time it gets to the cathedral. I remember when his father was buried: the smell was so bad that most of the mourners fled into the open air. Now, what was my question? Ah yes, why does a Vexille return to Astarac?"

Why not?" Thomas answered.

Planchard stood and beckoned him. Let me show you something, Thomas." He led Thomas to the abbey church where, as he entered, the abbot dipped his finger into the stoup of holy water and made the sign of the cross as he genuflected towards the high altar. Thomas, almost for the first time in his life, did not make the same obeisance. He was excommunicated. The old things had no power for him now because he had been cut off from them. He followed the abbot across the wide empty nave to an alcove behind a side altar and there Planchard unlocked a small door with a big key. It will be dark downstairs," the old man warned, and I have no lantern, so step carefully."

A dim light found its way down the stairs and when Thomas reached the bottom Planchard held up a hand. Wait here. he said, and I will bring you something. It is too dark to see in the treasury." Thomas waited. His eyes became accustomed to the gloom and he saw there were eight arched openings in the undercroft and then he saw that it was not just a vault, but an ossuary and the realization made him take a step back in sudden horror. The arches were stacked with bones. Skulls gazed at him. At the eastern end there was an arch only half filled, the rest of its s.p.a.ce waiting for the brethren who prayed each day in the church above. This was the cellar of the dead; heaven"s ante chamber.

He heard the click of a lock turning, then the abbot"s footsteps returned and Planchard held out a wooden box. Take it to the light. he said, and look at it. The Count tried to steal it from me, but when he returned here with the fever I took it back from him. Can you see it properly?"

Thomas held the box up to the small light that came down the stairwell. He could see that the box was old, that its wood had dried out, and that it had once been painted inside and out, but then, on the front, he saw the remnants of the words he knew so well, the words that had haunted him ever since his father had died: Calix Meus Inebrians.

It is said. the Abbot took the box back from Thomas, that it was found in a precious reliquary on the altar of the chapel in the Vexille castle. But it was empty when it was found, Thomas. Do you understand that?"

It was empty. Thomas repeated.

I think I know. Planchard said, what brings a Vexille to Astarac, but there is nothing here for you, Thomas, nothing at all. The box was empty." He put the box back, locked the heavy chest and led Thomas back up to the church. He secured the treasury door, then beckoned Thomas to sit with him on a stone ledge that ran all around the otherwise bare nave. The box was empty. the abbot insisted, though no doubt you are thinking it was filled once. And I think you came here to find the thing that filled it." Thomas nodded. He was watching two novices sweep the church, their birch bristles making small scratching noises on the wide flagstones. I also came. he said, to find the man who killed, who murdered my father."

You know who did that?"

My cousin. Guy Vexille. I"m told he calls himself the Count of Astarac."

And you think he is here?" Planchard sounded surprised. I have never heard of such a man.

I think that if he knows I am here. Thomas said, then he"ll come.

And you will kill him?"

Question him. Thomas said. I want to know why he thought my father possessed the Grail."

And did your father possess it?"

I don"t know. Thomas said truthflly. I think he may have believed he did. But he was also mad at times." Mad?" The question was asked very gently.

He didn"t worship G.o.d. Thomas said, but fought him. He pleaded, shouted, screamed and wept at G.o.d. He saw most things very clearly, but G.o.d confused him."

And you?" Planchard asked.

I"m an archer. Thomas said, I have to see things very clearly." Your father. Planchard said, opened the door to G.o.d and was dazzled, while you keep the door shut?"

Maybe. Thomas said defensively.

So what is it, Thomas, that you hope to achieve if you find the Grail?"

Peace. Thomas said. And justice. It was not an answer he had thought about, but almost a dismissal of Planchard"s question. A soldier who seeks peace. Planchard said, amused. You are full of contradictions. You have burned and killed and stolen to make peace." He held up a hand to still Thomas"s protest. I have to tell you, Thomas, that I think it would be best if the Grail were not found. If I were to discover it I would hurl it into the deepest sea, down among the monsters, and tell no one. But if another person finds it, then it will merely be another trophy in the wars of ambitious men. Kings will fight for it, men like you will die because of it, churches will grow rich on it, and there will be no peace. But I don"t know that. Maybe you"re right? Maybe the Grail will usher in an age of plenty and peacefulness, and I pray it does. Yet the discovery of the crown of thorns brought no such splendurs, and why should the Grail be more powerful than our dear Lord"s thorns? We have vials of his blood in Flanders and England, yet they do not bring peace. Is the Grail more precious than his blood?"

Some men think so. Thomas said uncomfortably.

And those men will kill like beasts to possess it. Planchard said. They will kill with all the pity of a wolf savaging a lamb, and you tell me it will bring peace?" He sighed. Yet perhaps you"re right. Perhaps this is the time for the Grail to be found. We need a miracle."

To bring peace?"

Planchard shook his head. He said nothing for a while, just stared at the two sweepers and looked very solemn and immensely sad. I have not told this to anyone, Thomas," he broke his long silence, and you would be wise to tell no one either. In time we shall all know and by then it will be too late. But not long ago I received a letter from a brother house in Lombardy and our world is about to change utterly."

Because of the Grail?"

I wish it were so. No, because there is a contagion in the east. A dreadful contagion, a pestilence that spreads like smoke, that kills whoever it touches and spares no one. It is a plague, Thomas, that has been sent to harrow us." Planchard gazed ahead, watching the dust dance in a shaft of slanting sunlight that came down from one of the high, clear windows. Such a contagion must be the devil"s work," the abbot went on, making the sign of the cross, and it is horrid work. My brother abbot reports that in some towns of Umbria as many as half the folk have died and he advises me to bar my gates and allow no travellers inside, but how can I do that? We are here to help people, not to shut them away from G.o.d." He looked higher, as if seeking divine aid among the great beams of the roof. A darkness is coming, Thomas. he said, and it is a darkness as great as any mankind has ever seen. Perhaps, if you find the Grail, it will give light to that darkness." Thomas thought of Genevieve"s vision beneath the lightning, of a great darkness in which there was a point of brilliance. I have always thought. Planchard went on, that the search for the Grail was a madness, a hunt for a chimera that would bring no good, only evil, but now I learn that everything is going to change. Everything. Perhaps we shall require a wondrous symbol of G.o.d"s love." He sighed. I have even been tempted to wonder whether this coming pestilence is sent by G.o.d. Perhaps he burns us out, purges us, so that those who are spared will do His will. I don"t know." He shook his head sadly. What will you do when your Genevieve is well?"

I came here. Thomas said, to find out all I could about Astarac." Of the beginning and end of man"s labours. Planchard said with a smile, there is no end. Would you resent advice?" Of course not."

Then go far away, Thomas," the abbot said firmly, go far away. I do not know who killed the Count of Berat, but it is not hard to guess. He had a nephew, a stupid but strong man, whom you took prisoner. I doubt the Count would have ransomed him, but now the nephew is himself the Count and can arrange his own ransom. And if he seeks what his uncle sought then he will kill any rival, and that means you, Thomas. So take care. And you must go soon." I am unwelcome here?"

You are most welcome," Planchard insisted, both of you. But this morning the Count"s squire went to report his master"s death and the boy will know you are here. You and the girl. He may not know your names, but the two of you are . . . what shall I say? Noticeable? So if anyone wants to kill you, Thomas, they will know where to look for you. Which is why I tell you to go far away. This house has seen enough murder and I want no more." He stood and placed a gentle hand on Thomas"s head. Bless you, my son," he said, then walked out of the church. And Thomas felt the darkness closing.

Joscelyn was the Count of Berat.

He kept remembering that, and each remembrance gave him a surge of pure joy. Count of Berat! Lord of money.

Villesisle and his companion had returned from Astarac with news that the old man had died in his sleep. Before we even reached the monastery," Villesisle told Joscelyn in front of Robbie and Sir Guillaume, though later, in private, he confessed that things had not gone quite so well and that blood had been shed. You"re a fool," Joscelyn snarled. What did I tell you?" To stifle him."

So you drench the d.a.m.n room with his blood instead?" We didn"t have a choice," Villesisle claimed sullenly. One of his men-at-arms was there and tried to fight. But what does it matter? The old man"s dead, isn"t he?"

He was dead. Dead and rotting, and that was what really mattered. The fourteenth Count of Berat was on his way to heaven or to h.e.l.l and so the county of Berat with its castles, fiefs, towns, serfs, farmlands and h.o.a.rded coin all belonged to Joscelyn. Joscelyn possessed a new authority when he met with Robbie and Sir Guillaume. Before, when he had been wondering whether or not his uncle would ransom him, he had done his best to be courteous for his future depended on the goodwill of his captors, but now, though he was not rude to them, he was aloof and that was fitting for they were mere adventurers and he was one of the richest n.o.bles of southern France. My ransom," he declared flatly, is twenty thousand florins."

Forty. Sir Guillaume insisted immediately.

He"s my prisoner!" Robbie turned on Sir Guillaume. So?" Sir Guillaume bridled. You"ll settle for twenty when he"s worth forty?"

I"ll settle for twenty," Robbie said and it was, in truth, a fortune, a ransom worthy of a royal duke. In English money it would be close to three thousand pounds, sufficient to set a man up in luxury for life.

And three thousand florins more," Joscelyn offered, for the captured horses and my men-at-arms."

Agreed," Robbie said before Sir Guillaume could object. Sir Guillaume was disgusted at Robbie"s ready acceptance. The Norman knew the twenty thousand florins was a fine ransom, more than he had ever dared hope for as he had watched the few hors.e.m.e.n approach the ford and the waiting ambush, but even so he believed that Robbie had acquiesced far too quickly. It usually took months to negotiate a ransom, months of haggling, of messengers carrying offer and counter-offer and rejection and threat, yet Joscelyn and Robbie had settled the whole thing in moments. So now," Sir Guillaume said, watching Joscelyn, you stay here until the money arrives."

Then I shall stay here for ever," Joscelyn said calmly. I have to enter into my inheritance," he explained, before the money will be released."

So I just let you go?" Sir Guillaume asked scornfully. I"ll go with him," Robbie said.