The Wandering Arm (26 page)
“Will you help me find out, all the same?” Catherine asked as she struggled to her feet.
“Yes,” Lucia said. “I want someone to pay.”
When Ullo returned, having also conquered Jerusalem with Godfrey’s brother, King Baldwin, Catherine and Lucia were just where he had left them, busy with their tasks.
There was another group of English students sharing their table that night, so it wasn’t until they were in bed that Catherine told Edgar what she had found out from Lucia.
“She was in love with him?” Edgar found that hard to believe.
“Both Maurice and Gaudry assumed he was a Christian lord,” Catherine reminded him. “He must have had a certain exotic charm.”
“But Lucia knew he was Jewish,” Edgar said.
“That’s true,” Catherine said. “Of course, I knew you were English. Perhaps she thought she could convert him.”
“You want me to turn French?” Edgar was horrified.
Catherine shook her head sadly. “I haven’t a hope. Not with the way you eat. Although, you know, listening to the others tonight, I realized that you’ve almost lost your accent.”
“I shall endeavor to regain it at once,” he said firmly. “Now about Natan. We know he worked with Christians. Was he the kind of man who would ingratiate himself by eating their food?”
Catherine tried to remember what she had overheard. “I doubt it,” she said finally. “From what Solomon and Uncle Eliazar said, he was very particular about his food. Unlike some people who don’t even stop to see what it is before they fill their mouths.”
Edgar was stung. “I didn’t know it bothered you.”
Catherine laughed. “It doesn’t. Well, not anymore. Actually, it’s rather satisfying to watch you shoveling food in with such enthusiasm. All that fuel has to be expended eventually.”
She was awake enough to suggest how. But Edgar was still puzzling over how Natan could have been poisoned.
“It would have to be someone he trusted,” Edgar said. “No, don’t stop. I can think about this while you do that.”
“Then I must not be doing it properly,” she answered.
They were quiet a moment.
“Someone could have bribed one of the Christian servants to put something in Natan’s dish,” she suggested. “But that doesn’t seem very likely. It would have to be done at the table without anyone noticing. We don’t even know where Natan ate that night, do we?”
Silence.
“Do we?” she repeated. “Edgar, what do you think? Edgar? What are you … Edgar!”
She must have been doing it properly after all.
When Catherine arrived at her aunt’s and uncle’s on Thursday, she was surprised to see Andrew, the canon from Saint-Victor, waiting in the hallway.
“I’ve met you, haven’t I?” he asked. “With John in the street and then the other night in a tavern. What are you doing here?”
Catherine grappled for a plausible answer. She thought of none and so decided to attack instead.
“What are
you
doing here?” she asked.
you
doing here?” she asked.
“Old Eliazar teaches me Hebrew and explains passages of the Pentateuch in the original for me, remember?” he said. “Master Hugh, may his soul now rejoice in heaven, instructed me to seek the truth of the New Testament in the words of the Old.”
“I see,” Catherine said. “I was also grieved to hear of Master Hugh’s death. I’m sure his erudition lives on in his students.”
Andrew studied her for signs of sarcasm. Catherine looked back at him, her eyes wide, sincere and disturbingly blue. He blinked.
“Are you also here to study Hebrew?” he asked more politely. “I recall hearing that Abbess Héloïse was a student of the language.”
“Yes, she taught us some at the Paraclete,” Catherine answered, glad he had come up with an excuse on his own. “Eliazar’s wife is helping me so that I don’t forget it.”
Andrew was honestly confused. “But you’ve left the convent. What possible use could you have for Hebrew now?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine answered. “But if an occasion arises, I would not wish to be found wanting.”
What a tangle of lies and half-truths she was creating! She had never progressed much in Hebrew beyond the
aleph bet
and that was so that she could do accounts for her father using the letters as numbers. Solomon had taught her a few phrases and she had picked up a little more from Johannah. Now Catherine wished she had taken the time to learn. Heloise would have taught her more, if she had asked.
aleph bet
and that was so that she could do accounts for her father using the letters as numbers. Solomon had taught her a few phrases and she had picked up a little more from Johannah. Now Catherine wished she had taken the time to learn. Heloise would have taught her more, if she had asked.
Andrew was dubious. Then his face lit with understanding. “Oh, of course. I know why you’ve really come here. You don’t need to be embarrassed. John told me that your families had disowned both you and Edgar. I can’t blame them, considering your rash marriage, but in your situation, I might be forced to do the same.”
“I beg your pardon?” Catherine had no idea what he was talking about.
At that moment Johannah entered the hall, followed by Lucia with a plate of cheese and cups of wine for Andrew and Eliazar.
“It’s all right,” the canon whispered. “I’ll tell no one I saw you here.” He followed Lucia up the stairs.
Johannah greeted Catherine with a hug. “What was that about?” she asked.
“I can’t imagine,” Catherine said. Then she realized. “Oh, of course!” She almost laughed. “That
stultus
thought I was here to pawn my jewelry to you, now that I’ve been cast out by my family to starve.”
stultus
thought I was here to pawn my jewelry to you, now that I’ve been cast out by my family to starve.”
“He should have known I don’t lend money,” Johannah sniffed. “Though I’ll say nothing against those who do. The Christians make it harder every year to survive any other way. Andrew’s been coming here long enough and asked enough questions to realize that I don’t need to do such work. But he can’t see beyond his own beliefs. I liked his friend better.”
“His friend?”
“There used to be two of them who would come each week for lessons,” Johannah explained. “Brother Andrew and Brother Thomas. They were both good enough boys, for Christians, but Thomas was more open-minded in his questions. Andrew often refuses to look at the
peshat,
the simple meaning of the text. Everything for him has to somehow predict his Messiah. Although I think that Eliazar has managed to convince him of his error once or twice.”
peshat,
the simple meaning of the text. Everything for him has to somehow predict his Messiah. Although I think that Eliazar has managed to convince him of his error once or twice.”
“That the Messiah has not yet appeared?” Catherine said, shocked.
“Of course not,” Johannah said. “Nothing will convince him of that. Eliazar has only made him admit that sometimes your scholars see predictions of your Christ in the Torah that simply aren’t there. But Thomas was different. He would listen and smile and ask intelligent questions. He was very respectful. For a while, he even came twice a week, once with Andrew and again on his own. But then, about a year ago, he stopped.”
“What happened to him?” Catherine asked.
“I don’t know,” Johannah said. “Perhaps he went to another city, or home to his family. No one ever told me.”
Something was worrying Catherine. There was a connection forming that she didn’t want to make. Leaning on her aunt’s arm, she went with her to the kitchen, where Lucia was scrubbing out all the cupboards in preparation for Passover.
“I have some bread that we won’t use before the holiday,” Johannah said. “It’s in a bag on the table. Why don’t you take it home with you?”
Catherine suspected that her aunt had bought too much on purpose but accepted the gift gratefully.
There was a clattering sound from the cellar and a cry. Lucia screamed and bumped her head on the inside of the cupboard. Catherine dropped the bag, scattering crumbs on the floor. Johannah sighed, knowing it would now have to be scrubbed again.
At the same time she rushed to the trapdoor, which was propped open. “Ullo!” she called. “Are you hurt?”
“They’ll never take me alive!” a high defiant voice called back.
“Just don’t destroy all our provisions in the heat of battle,” she warned.
Johannah came back to the table, where Catherine sat laughing. Lucia was muttering curses under her breath. If even one of them came true, the defender of Jerusalem would suffer an ignominious end.
“Let the child play,” Johannah said. “His young eyes will find the smallest bit of
chametz
whatever he pretends it is.”
chametz
whatever he pretends it is.”
“The smallest bit of what?” Catherine asked.
“Leaven,” Johannah told her. “There mustn’t be a trace of it anywhere. We’ll have the ritual hunt later, but I like to be certain. Of course, I simply told him to move all the boxes and sweep around the barrels, that we were cleaning for the holiday. I believe he thinks I mean Easter.”
“Ullo’s head is so full of
gestes
and legends that I doubt he notices where he really is or who we are,” Catherine said. “Or else he takes your customs for granted. He’s the son of a friend of Father’s from Rouen.”
gestes
and legends that I doubt he notices where he really is or who we are,” Catherine said. “Or else he takes your customs for granted. He’s the son of a friend of Father’s from Rouen.”
“Ah, yes, the community there is fairly large,” Johannah said. “Our ways might not be that strange to him.”
The sound of battle clanked from below for a few more minutes. Then Ullo came back up the stairs, broom under one arm and the spoils of war in a basket hooked over the other. He handed the basket to Johannah with a bow.
“You’re sure you got everything that was on the floor?” she asked. “Even in the corners?”
“I swear,” Ullo said. “I held the lamp into the darkest shadows and the demons fled from me.”
There was something about him, so innocent and certain. Catherine wanted to protect him, that he might never meet a demon he couldn’t send running.
Johannah saw her look. She patted Catherine’s hand.
“Put away your grief, child,” she said. “You and Edgar will have many more children, I’m sure.”
Catherine smiled and nodded. That was it, of course. As Edgar knew well, being immobile was bad for her. It was too easy to brood and fall into the sin of despair. What she hadn’t told Edgar was that her melancholy was overlaid by mortal terror of enduring another birth like the last one. She shook herself. This was foolish. She had chosen her path: nettles, thorns and rocks. Now she had to walk it and there was no logic in complaining.
Johannah was digging through the basket for anything of value that might have been dropped by accident. Catherine leaned over in idle curiosity.
“What’s this?” Johannah held up a torn piece of parchment. “There’s writing on it. How odd. Not French. Is it Latin?”
She handed it to Catherine, who squinted to make out the smudged letters.
“
‘Laurentius bonum opus operatus est, qui per signum crucis caecos illuminavit,’
” she read. “‘Laurence performed a good deed, he who through the sign of the cross gave light to the blind.’ It’s an antiphon for the saint’s feast, I think, perhaps from a breviary.”
‘Laurentius bonum opus operatus est, qui per signum crucis caecos illuminavit,’
” she read. “‘Laurence performed a good deed, he who through the sign of the cross gave light to the blind.’ It’s an antiphon for the saint’s feast, I think, perhaps from a breviary.”
“How could a thing like that have come to be in our cellar?” Johannah wondered.
“I have no idea,” Catherine said. “May I keep it?”
“Certainly,” Johannah said. “It’s of no use to me.”
“Ullo,” Catherine asked, “do you remember where this was?”
“Oh, yes,” Ullo said. “It was caught on a crack between the stones of the fort.”
Catherine sighed. “I’m not familiar with the geography, Ullo. Which fort?”
Ullo sighed back. “The boxes against the wall opposite the stairs,” he said in disgust.
“Thank you, Ullo.”
Catherine folded the bit of parchment carefully and tied it in her sleeve. She tried not to show her worry. That was the place where she had found the beads and bit of metal. Three things that seemed to have belonged to a Christian, all of them broken. They frightened her.
She had to find a way to make Uncle Eliazar tell her what had happened last year. But first she needed to know everything she could about what Natan had been doing and with whom.
“Lucia,” she said, “would you like to eat with Edgar and me tonight? We’re having bread and soup left from the jug we took back from your mother’s last night. It’s not much, but you’re welcome.”
“You’ve worked hard today,” Johannah agreed. “If you wish it, you may leave when Catherine does. I’ll take care of Eliazar and Ullo.”
Lucia did not look delighted at the invitation, but responding to Catherine’s pleading expression, she agreed.
They left soon after. Catherine was too obsessed with her new speculations to wait any longer.
So there had been another cleric, Thomas, who didn’t come anymore. There were a dozen possible explanations for that. He may have become bored and given up the study or been given a new assignment by his superiors. He may have gone home to care for his mother. Catherine could imagine many reasons for Thomas to have stopped visiting Eliazar.
But the bits she had found were just the sort that a poor canon might carry: beads and a prayer book or breviary with thin metal clasps listing the verses and responses for the daily Office throughout the year. But why would these shreds be in her uncle’s cellar?
Catherine refused to believe the answer that tried to leap into her mind. She didn’t want to think it. But she had been trained to take all information, organize it and form a logical conclusion. One can’t ignore the facts simply because the answer isn’t palatable. Catherine forced herself to list the questions.
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