The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (22 page)

“I didn’t say anything.” Berengar grinned.

Jehan frowned. “Just remember,
my Lord Berengar,
that all your father’s wealth and position won’t keep a Saracen sword from lodging in your gut. Nor can you call on him to defend us when we are attacked. The men we are going to ransom learned that.”

“I know,” Berengar answered, the smile gone. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“He’s been working,” Guy told Jehan. “He’s getting better at aiming for vulnerable spots instead of just parrying blows. And he’s not at all bad with a sling.”

“My friends and I use them for hunting small game,” Berengar explained. “But Guy pointed out that a well-shot stone could bring a man down from a horse.”

Jehan nodded approval. “Never tried it myself, but I’d like to see what you can do. Get your gear. We’ll find an open field and test it.”

Berengar was down in an instant, dropping through the opening onto the floor below. Guy came more slowly down the ladder, trying not to cry out as his feet hit the rungs.

“What’s wrong with your feet?” Jehan asked.

“Stepped in a nettle patch by the river,” Guy answered shortly.

Berengar stifled a laugh.

“I hope you got all the thorns out,” Jehan warned. “Those things can fester. You don’t look like you’ll be good for much for a while.”

“Don’t worry,” Guy said. “I can still ride.”

“Maybe,” Jehan said. “But can you walk far enough to reach your horse?”

Berengar snorted. Guy glared at him.

Jehan regarded them both with suspicion. He guessed that they had been making wagers again. Idiots! All he could hope was that this new man, Arnald, would have more sense than these two.

Solomon had little to prepare. He had money enough, carefully secreted in various places in his packs and on his body. He had the tokens from his other uncle, Eleazar, in Troyes. These would identify him and release the goods from the ship in Almeria. He wondered if he would ever get there. The danger involved in freeing Mayah was only a small worry. What he doubted was his ability to survive days in the company of both Jehan and Brother James.

So when Aaron came to him with his troubles, Solomon found he had used up all sympathy.

“The elders have decided that Samuel may come with us!” Aaron moaned. “And that’s not the worst of it.”

“Josta told me about Yusef.” Solomon forestalled a recitation of this new woe. “He has his own concerns. I doubt he’ll try to follow us up to the monastery.”

“But he’ll know I didn’t go to Córdoba!” Aaron complained.

“Perhaps,” Solomon answered. “He may not notice. That servant of his will occupy most of his attention, I’d guess.”

“But what can we do about Samuel?” Aaron persisted. “If he sees that we’re leaving the group, he’ll want to come with us. If he finds we’ve gone, he’ll want to know where and why!”

He was sitting on a log across from the vineyard his sister and brother-in-law owned. The vines were covered with soft green leaves. Hidden among them were the buds of wine to come. From nearby came the hum of bees. Solomon thought wistfully that this would be a good time for a nap.

Instead he grabbed Aaron by the shoulder and shook him hard.

“What is wrong with you?” he shouted. “While you agonize over who might find out what happened to Mayah, she is still enduring it! What is more important, her honor or her life?”

“But if it’s known, our marriage will be forbidden!” Aaron wailed.

“Aaron, even if it’s not known, the marriage is forbidden,” Solomon said. “Do you think you can keep a secret from the Almighty One? What you care about is the community and how they will treat you and Mayah?”

“No! I only care about Mayah!” Aaron said.

“Then let’s go save her.” Solomon released his hold. “And let the dice fall where they may.”

Thanks to the skill of Brother Martin, Brother James also had little to do. But he did it with great energy. He went to the priory barber to have his face and tonsure shaved. After checking to see if the moon was in the proper phase, he also decided to be bled. He was worried that the presence of Jews among his traveling companions might cause an over production of choleric bile in his system. Better to drain some of it off as a precaution.

He also had realized that the bags of gold coins were chafing his skin. He accepted the discomfort gladly but decided that the strings tying the bags to his belt were too easily broken. After much thought, it came to him that he could fold over the edge of his cowl and sew the coins inside it. While living in the monastery he would normally not get the same clothing back from the laundry, but for this journey he would only have one change of his outer robe and the cowl would be the same all along.

When he put it on he was pleased with how much less noticeable it was than in the lumpy bags at his waist. He wished he’d thought of it sooner. Perhaps Brother Victor would still be alive if he had carried the money where a thief could not find it.

James crossed himself and said a prayer for his lost friend.

“I promise,” he whispered. “Every man we free will know that you are the one he should thank.”

The morning was crisp and pale as Solomon led his horse through the streets to the Narbonne Gate. People were already stirring. He could hear the squawking as chickens and ducks fought for the grain a little girl tossed to them. A woman passed him, buckets of new milk hung from a pole across her shoulders. He stopped her and bought a cup. The warm liquid helped calm his agitated stomach.

There was no point in asking himself why he was doing this. He was caught in a nightmare. Any way he turned would bring him to the same end. Each time he thought he was free, a new monster rose to attack. Like a fly caught in a web, he had ceased struggling and now awaited the spider with worn submission.

The juvenile exuberance of Arnald’s greeting fell on him like a bucket of icy water.

“This is wonderful!” he cried, rising in his stirrups to wave as Solomon passed through the gate. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. Perfect for a ride. The monks and their guards and servants are already here. Father wants me to stay close to them, but I don’t see why I can’t ride with you and Aaron.”

Solomon looked around. Above him loomed the massive fortress of the Château Narbonnais, where the count stayed when he was in the Cité. A watchman gazed down on him. Solomon moved farther away from the wall, in case the man was thinking of relieving himself between the merlins.

“Where is Aaron?” he asked.

Arnald moved closer. “I think he and Yusef and Samuel are saying morning prayers.”

Solomon rolled his eyes. Of course they were.

“You watch,” he said. “The three of them will spend this whole trip dancing around and through the Law, trying to offend the Almighty as little as possible and still do what they want.”

“Are you calling them hypocrites?” Arnald asked.

“No more than the rest of us.” Solomon laughed at his expression. “I’m one, myself, for that matter, on some subjects, but when I break one of our laws, I don’t pretend it’s anything but a transgression.”

Arnald chewed on that a moment. “
Senhor
Solomon,” he said at last. “I like you, but I don’t understand most of what you say.”

Solomon was saved having to reply to that by the arrival of the others.

As the two groups moved closer to each other, Solomon tensed for the moment when his father would recognize him.

But it was Brother Martin who caused the first disruption.

“That’s a woman!” he cried, pointing.

All eyes turned to Babylonia, sitting pillion behind Yusef on his horse.

“This is my servant,” he told them.

“Ha!” Brother Martin replied. “Your concubine, I have no doubt. We won’t share the road with fornicators.”

Berengar gave a loud guffaw and even Aaron smiled.

“Then it will be a lonely road, Brother Martin,” Jehan said.

Yusef didn’t join in the humor.

“Babylonia is my servant,” he repeated. “That is all. She has fallen ill and I’m taking her to a family in Spain who will care for her. I am willing to pay for the protection of your guards if we may travel with you. I already arranged this with Aaron.”

“Then welcome!” Guy called. He paused and reconsidered. “Wait, it’s not leprosy, is it?”

The word brought them all to attention.

“Of course not!” Yusef denied it at once, but fear echoed more loudly in their ears.

“Let’s see her.” Martin gestured to Jehan and the other guards.

They didn’t move.

“Jehan, bring her over so I can see if she shows signs of the disease,” he ordered them.

Jehan crossed his arms. “My men and I took your coin to protect you from bandits, marauders, even bear and other savage beasts. Lepers weren’t in the bargain.”

Babylonia herself broke the impasse.

“Pig! Bastard!” she screamed as she slid from Yusef’s horse. “How dare you call me unclean! I’m whole as you are. More. There’s not a blemish on my body. I’ll prove it.”

She tore off her veil and started pulling her
bliaut
over her head.

“Babylonia!” Yusef dismounted hurriedly, landing on the ground with a thump.

He tried to keep her from removing anything more, but she was strong in her fury.

“Called me a whore, he did!” she shouted. “A Jew’s whore! I spit on them all. Bad enough! Now he says I’m leprous. I’ll show him. Let me go!”

“You see?” Yusef told them as he attempted to control his servant. “It’s not her body but her mind that’s ill. Will someone help me?”

No one moved. By now a small crowd had collected.

“Beat the demon out of her,” someone suggested. Several others agreed.

“Where will it go, if he does?” someone else asked. “Anyone have a goat? They’re born possessed.”

Since no one had brought a goat, the spectators started backing away. No one wanted to be caught by a demon on the run.

“Idiots!” Brother Martin strode up to Yusef and Babylonia. “You can’t bring a madwoman with us, either. She needs a good exorcism. Let me baptize her. That will drive the devil out.”

“She’s already one of yours; it seems the devil returned,” Yusef panted. “I know of a convent that will take her in and keep her from hurting anyone else. But I have to get her there.”

Martin hesitated. He had assumed that Babylonia was Jewish. That changed things.

“Why haven’t you taken her to the local priest, then?” he asked.

Yusef had managed to get Babylonia calm enough to put the
bliaut
back on. His own hat had fallen on the ground and his cloak had been turned almost back to front in the struggle.

“I have,” he said shortly. “To the parish priest, the hospice of Saint Jean. I even asked the bishop for help. No one wanted her. She’s not of Toulouse.”

Martin was silent. He watched the way that Yusef held the woman, firmly but not lustfully. She was still at last, head bowed. He couldn’t imagine anyone taking on such a burden if he could have passed it to someone else.

“She’ll have to be restrained day and night,” he told Yusef. “And gagged if her outbursts continue. Do you agree to that?”

Yusef put one hand on Babylonia’s shoulder. With the other he lifted her chin.

“Do you understand what Brother Martin said?” he asked.

Her eyes flicked to the monk with a look of undiluted hatred.

“Yes,” she said. “I will be good.”

Yusef turned back to Martin. “Thank you,” he said.

Martin looked at the sky.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” he said. “We need to be at L’Isle Jourdain by nightfall. Is everyone ready?”

“My friends and I are,” Aaron said.

“We wait only for you,” Jehan told him.

Brother James said nothing, only pulled his cowl farther over his face.

Yusef got back on his horse. He reached down to pull Babylonia up behind him. She couldn’t make the leap and was about to try again when Brother Martin strode over and picked her up as easily as if she’d been a child, setting her on the horse.

“Now,” he said. “May God grant that we have no more such disturbances and that our journey be swift and uneventful.”

None of the travelers had trouble saying “Amen” to that.

As they set off, Solomon saw his father look around at the others in the party. When his gaze came to the Jews, it passed without interest.

It was almost worse than rejection. Brother James hadn’t recognized his own son.