The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (30 page)

“At last!” Guy sighed. “I never thought I’d see a
maille
from all those tithes I’ve paid over the years. About time the Church put my money to good use.”

 

Vespers was ending. In the chapel James stood with the local monks feeling more at peace than he had in days. If only the journey could continue without the Jews. Those people brought discord wherever they went. Who would know it better than he? They couldn’t even observe the Sabbath without disrupting the routine of those around them. By flaunting their heterodoxy, they were almost begging to be murdered.

Of course, it was sad to think that the young man, Samuel, would never have the chance for salvation. In that sense, it was worse than the death of Brother Victor, who was certainly in paradise now.

And what about the two bags of missing gold? Whoever had taken them had condemned valiant Christian knights. Even though Berengar’s father had made up the loss, the theft itself was a deliberate effort to thwart the liberation of pious noblemen who had risked their lives for the Faith.

He wondered if Samuel had discovered who had taken the missing gold. Many an unwary man had died because he’d seen something he shouldn’t. Or he might have been part of the plot and had second thoughts.

James would prefer the culprit to be one of the Jews but he wasn’t going to exclude anyone, especially the men he had hired to guard the treasure. All of them had been in Toulouse the night Victor died. And none could be accounted for every minute on the night Samuel was killed.

Three
rossols
was a lot of money but James was confident that it would be well spent. A night of debauchery would make the guards much more pliant when he set about wringing information out of them.

 

 

Just after sunset, Aaron found a place not too close to the road that was safe for them to pitch their tents. Although they didn’t need the campfire for warmth, they made one anyway. It was something comforting to sit by. Other travelers must have felt the same for there were bright splashes of light dotted across the plain. They made sure that the nearest one was well out of hearing range.

The men had washed, prayed, and eaten. Aaron brought out a skin of his sister’s wine. Babylonia was curled up next to a tree, the rope extending from her feet and hands to a branch above.

“You first, Aaron,” Yusef said when they had started on the wine. “Solomon says I can help you in your quest. Since when do you need me to get yourself married?”

“Are you sure he’s safe to tell about this, Solomon?” Aaron asked.

Solomon poked at the fire with a long stick. “If he’s kept Babylonia’s story to himself all these years, it’s likely you can trust him with yours.”

“He’s right about that, Aaron,” Yusef said. “I keep my own counsel.”

“Very well.” Aaron took a deep breath. “I am going to fetch my bride, just as I said, but there’s been a complication.”

He told what had happened briefly, holding back all emotion, ending with, “She’s being held at Fitero near the monastery. Solomon and Arnald are going to help me get her back.”

Yusef was silent.

“Well?” Aaron asked. “When we return home, are you going to keep the secret of what happened to her or will you betray us?”

Yusef stared into the flames.

“I won’t betray you, Aaron,” he said finally. “You’ll have enough without that fear. I don’t know how much use I’ll be in your rescue, but I’m willing to do what I can. It does seem to me that it was wrong of you not to tell the community at once so the ransom could be raised. She’s had to endure her shame that much longer.”

“We don’t even know if she can be ransomed,” Solomon spoke up quickly. He didn’t want Aaron carrying any more guilt. “As far as we know, her owners think she’s Saracen.”

“Don’t they ransom their women?” Yusef asked.

“I don’t know,” Solomon said. “If we can, we’ll pay. If not, we’ll kidnap her from them. Anything we must do to save Mayah. You don’t know her, Yusef. She was…is, the gentlest, brightest child. The jewel of her father’s heart. I’ll cheerfully gut the men who have her now.”

Arnald wasn’t paying attention to the debate. His course was decided. He would do whatever Aaron asked. That was why he was the first to notice the odd noise. At first he thought it was from the creek or wind in the trees. Then he realized that someone nearby was weeping in a steady, low tone of perpetual despair.

“Babylonia?”

He started to get up, but Yusef stopped him.

“You can’t comfort her,” he said. “Let her be.”

“Are you sure?” Arnald sat down reluctantly.

Yusef sighed. “Yes. Now that I’ve learnt what you plan, Aaron, I hate even more to reveal Babylonia’s history. But before you attempt this deception, you should hear how one step outside the Law can destroy a whole community.”

They all waited, but he didn’t begin the story right away. First he went over to where Babylonia wept. He untied all the ropes, helped her to stand, and brought her back to the campfire.

“Look at her,” he told the men. “Ten years ago she was a respected woman with servants of her own. She had a wealthy husband, children…”

“My innocents,” Babylonia interrupted. “Beautiful babies.”

Yusef put a hand on Babylonia’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure I have the whole truth of the matter yet,” he went on. “Her family lived in one of the smaller towns in Spain, not far from Tudela. The place was one that had recently been taken over by the Christians. One day Babylonia was walking in to the market when she was overtaken by a group of soldiers.”

“And they abused her so vilely that she lost her senses?” Arnald said in horror, “Just as I always said. It’s the chain mail. Makes them think they’re gods.”

“I think that was only part of what happened,” Yusef said. “They carried her off with them. It was nearly a month later when a neighbor spotted her in the streets of Calaverra. It appeared that she had been raped, badly beaten, and thrown out when they were done with her. He brought her home.”

Solomon thought of Edgar’s sister, Margaret, who had been left for dead by a mob. She still had scars on her face and body. He wasn’t sure if her spirit had ever healed.

“I’m sorry, Babylonia,” he said to the trembling figure huddling next to Yusef. “It must have been an appalling torment. But, Yusef, I still don’t understand how she came to your door.”

“She came because mine was the only door open to her,” Yusef said. “I haven’t told the worst part yet. When she was brought back, her husband refused to let her return to him and his family and friends supported him.”

“That’s not right!” Arnald exclaimed. “How could that be?”

“Finding the answer took a long time and several trips to the area to learn,” Yusef continued. “It seems that Babylonia’s marriage was not a happy one. Her husband berated her often in public and some of the people I spoke to had seen him hit her. There were rumors that she hadn’t been kidnapped, but had run away. She denied them, but he had the support of the community. He couldn’t have taken her back in any case but the accusation that she was a willing adulteress meant that he owed her nothing. So she was thrown out of her home, without even a marriage portion. Her husband forbade her to come near her children. She had no family of her own in the town. There was nowhere for her to turn.”

“That’s terrible,” Arnald said. “No wonder she went mad.”

“There’s a piece missing in your story,” Solomon said. “What have you left out?”

“Just one thing.” Yusef paused. “Babylonia’s husband was able to do this because the Law said he should. He was a Cohen.”

Aaron inhaled sharply, as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

“She’s Jewish? But how? Why?”

“Solomon understands,” Yusef said. “I can see it on his face.”

“She went to the Christians, didn’t she?” he guessed. “When her own people wouldn’t have her. They baptized her, of course, and then what? Tried to find a man of the parish to marry her? Or did they send her to the nuns?”

“No nuns, nothing of nuns,” Babylonia chanted.

Yusef stroked her arm softly. “I suspect that by then she was already unbalanced. From what I can find out, the local bishop made an example of her, bringing her up during sermons to tell everyone how she had been saved by Jesus.”

“Godesblod!”
Solomon exclaimed. It was one of Edgar’s favorite invectives and seemed to fit at this time.

“Exactly. Eventually she became too erratic to show off, so she was dumped on some pilgrims heading for Rome. They mistreated her, as well. She tried to get help from the Jewish community. She even went to our courts in Narbonne but her husband’s version of the story had already reached them. No one would help. Finally, she arrived in Toulouse. I found her at the Bazacle. She was about to throw herself under the millwheel.”

Aaron could stand it no longer. He stood up and moved away from the fire. After a moment, he turned to face them.

“I understand what you’re saying.” He kicked up a clump of sweetgrass with the toe of his boot. “It’s a horrible thing that happened to Babylonia, but I have no intention of turning Mayah out, no matter what has been done to her. I want to take care of her and protect her.”

“So you’ll live your whole life as a liar and lawbreaker?” Yusef asked.

“If it’s with Mayah, yes!” Aaron said proudly.

Solomon got up on his knees to bank the fire. “I’ve tried to reason with him,” he told Yusef. “It didn’t work. There’s nothing you can do unless you expose them to the community. It’s something Aaron has to decide. He’s the one who’ll have to live with the consequences.”

Babylonia had spent all her tears and was dozing with her head on Yusef’s lap. He roused her and led her back to her pallet. He picked up the ropes.

“Yusef, do you have to keep her tied up?” Arnald said. “It seems cruel after all that’s been done to her.”

Yusef hesitated. Then Babylonia put out her hands, wrists together.

Solomon went to help him.

“It is cruel,” he told Arnald. “But it would be worse if she went wandering alone in her state. Or if she decided that we were a threat to her and had to be stopped.”

They made sure the knots were tight.

 

 

The next morning they awoke to a blend of raucous birdcalls and distant church bells.

“I don’t think I was meant to sleep on hard earth,” Arnald complained. “I never found a place to lie that didn’t have rocks sticking into me.”

The others were in no better mood. Aaron was sulking. The idea that he might treat Mayah as Babylonia’s husband had, made him angry. Solomon and Yusef should know him better. And, as for the Law, well this one was stupid. So he was a Cohen. There was no more Temple, no priests. He didn’t officiate at services; he was just a horse trader. What did it matter who he married?

Babylonia was also worn out. She slumped half-asleep behind Yusef as they rode.

To Solomon, the last miles to Pamplona felt like the walk to the gallows. Babylonia’s story had rattled him. All his life he had held the firm conviction that his people were better than the Christians. He believed that the scholars and judges could find a way to soften the harshest of God’s inexplicable commandments. If her husband didn’t want her back, then Babylonia should have been given her marriage portion and been allowed to start again. Instead, she had been driven to the Christians. The fact that they had treated her no better was small consolation.

He finally thought he understood why Yusef had taken her in. ‘Israel is still Israel’ and Yusef believed in caring for his own. He might have told his friends about Babylonia and trusted them to show her some charity as well, but that was Yusef. He would consider it impious to disclose good deeds. Nor would he expect others to participate in them.

He wondered if Babylonia’s children believed that she had run off and left them; that she didn’t love them anymore. Or had they just been told that she was dead? It was easier to pretend that the missing parent no longer existed. That’s what his family had done with him. If only he had never come face to face with the truth.

And now, in Pamplona, he knew he would have to face it again.

 

 

Brother Martin was sure that if he bowed one more time, his head was going to fall off. He had awakened with a pain across his eyes and an inability to breathe through his nose. He called it the spring sickness and there was never a year when he escaped it. The infirmarian at Moissac had made him try a dozen different compounds but nothing helped for more than a day or two. Sometimes the symptoms lasted only a few hours, sometimes for days.

So far, he had always recovered. But he was miserable while the disease lasted. It was a weakness that he hated to admit to. If Brother James saw him in this condition, he might send Martin back. No one enjoyed traveling with a man who had a head full of mucus.

James had already noticed that Brother Martin’s chanting was even less musical than usual. The man’s eyes were red and he gasped through his mouth at the end of every phrase. It looked to James like a case of ague. That could pose a problem. He didn’t want to be the only cleric in the party. Martin’s bulk was a support in his dealings with the guards and others. Yet it would be unconscionable to drag a sick man on a journey like this.

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