have?’
‘One,’ I replied. ‘The pig ate the other – at least, I thought she did.’
I realised then what had bothered me when I saw the body earlier in the marketplace. The thumb on the severed hand had been the wrong way round – that is to say, the hand I saw was a right hand, not a left as I’d thought. Now I could see why. Effie still had both her hands intact. The pig certainly had someone’s hand in its mouth. The question was, whose?
The beadle was starting to look agitated again. ‘Look, are you finished yet, brother? The Sheriff’s men are due at any time.’
‘Just one more thing before I go. I don’t suppose a priest has seen her today?’
The beadle shrugged, so I placed my hand on Effie’s cold brow and closed my eyes in silent prayer.
‘No time for that, brother. I can see the tops of their pikes coming up the street.’
I opened my eyes again and glared at the man. ‘Amen.’
‘Amen,’ echoed the beadle. ‘Now brother, if you wouldn’t mind…’
*
From the beadle’s office I went to the tavern where Onethumb and I had been the previous evening. In daylight I could see that it sported the sign of The Hanged Man - an unfortunate omen if ever there was one. I hadn’t noticed then but I could see now it was in a street known for its taverns and its whore-houses although by day it was an ordinary thoroughfare. But still it wasn’t wise to be seen lingering there for too long in case anyone got the wrong idea. Which placed me in a quandary: Should I hang about outside and make people suspect my purpose, or should I venture inside and confirm them? In the end I decided to wait and hope that anyone who saw me might think I was there on a mission to dissuade the fallen from their sinful ways. From the looks I was getting from passers-by I don’t think anyone was fooled - which made me wonder how many other monks from the abbey had been here.
A couple of vagabonds seated on the ground by the entrance were taking an unwelcome interest in my presence although I was doing my best to ignore them. One looked to be a leper with a filthy bandage covering one arm while his companion kept sniggering and sniffing as though he had a permanent rheum. Much as our Saviour values every creature on His good earth I could not help feeling that even He might baulk at these two. I could smell them from several feet distance. The one with the bandage fixed me with his stare and which I tried to avoid with difficulty. But he was determined to catch my eye and when at last he succeeded he shot to his feet, raised his unbandaged hand and in the most portentous tones delivered to me this stern warning:
‘Beware the whoremongers! Beware the seductress who flatters with words and forgets the covenant of God! Beware the immoral woman dripping with honey, her mouth smoother than oil and - ’
‘Shut up Hervey!’
Blessed holy saints and patriarchs, it was the girl who Raoul had been draped around the previous evening who now emerged from the tavern door. At her words the vagabond preacher instantly ceased his blathering and squatted back on the ground again next to his companion where he crouched as quiet as a mouse. I was impressed and regarded the girl. She blinked back at me and then up at the threatening sky before pulling her shawl around her and starting on up the hill. I hastened after her.
‘Young woman - a moment of your time if you please.’
She stopped and looked me up and down. ‘You’re not one of my regulars.’
‘Madam,’ I said indignantly, ‘I assure you -’
She shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ and set off again up the hill.
‘B-but you do have something I require,’ I stuttered trotting to keep up with her. ‘Information.’
She snorted without slackening her pace. ‘That’s a new word for it.’
‘For which I am happy to pay.’
She looked me up and down sceptically. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Go on, Netta,’ yelled a passing young man. ‘Charge the monk double.
‘One,’ I replied. ‘The pig ate the other – at least, I thought she did.’
I realised then what had bothered me when I saw the body earlier in the marketplace. The thumb on the severed hand had been the wrong way round – that is to say, the hand I saw was a right hand, not a left as I’d thought. Now I could see why. Effie still had both her hands intact. The pig certainly had someone’s hand in its mouth. The question was, whose?
The beadle was starting to look agitated again. ‘Look, are you finished yet, brother? The Sheriff’s men are due at any time.’
‘Just one more thing before I go. I don’t suppose a priest has seen her today?’
The beadle shrugged, so I placed my hand on Effie’s cold brow and closed my eyes in silent prayer.
‘No time for that, brother. I can see the tops of their pikes coming up the street.’
I opened my eyes again and glared at the man. ‘Amen.’
‘Amen,’ echoed the beadle. ‘Now brother, if you wouldn’t mind…’
*
From the beadle’s office I went to the tavern where Onethumb and I had been the previous evening. In daylight I could see that it sported the sign of The Hanged Man - an unfortunate omen if ever there was one. I hadn’t noticed then but I could see now it was in a street known for its taverns and its whore-houses although by day it was an ordinary thoroughfare. But still it wasn’t wise to be seen lingering there for too long in case anyone got the wrong idea. Which placed me in a quandary: Should I hang about outside and make people suspect my purpose, or should I venture inside and confirm them? In the end I decided to wait and hope that anyone who saw me might think I was there on a mission to dissuade the fallen from their sinful ways. From the looks I was getting from passers-by I don’t think anyone was fooled - which made me wonder how many other monks from the abbey had been here.
A couple of vagabonds seated on the ground by the entrance were taking an unwelcome interest in my presence although I was doing my best to ignore them. One looked to be a leper with a filthy bandage covering one arm while his companion kept sniggering and sniffing as though he had a permanent rheum. Much as our Saviour values every creature on His good earth I could not help feeling that even He might baulk at these two. I could smell them from several feet distance. The one with the bandage fixed me with his stare and which I tried to avoid with difficulty. But he was determined to catch my eye and when at last he succeeded he shot to his feet, raised his unbandaged hand and in the most portentous tones delivered to me this stern warning:
‘Beware the whoremongers! Beware the seductress who flatters with words and forgets the covenant of God! Beware the immoral woman dripping with honey, her mouth smoother than oil and - ’
‘Shut up Hervey!’
Blessed holy saints and patriarchs, it was the girl who Raoul had been draped around the previous evening who now emerged from the tavern door. At her words the vagabond preacher instantly ceased his blathering and squatted back on the ground again next to his companion where he crouched as quiet as a mouse. I was impressed and regarded the girl. She blinked back at me and then up at the threatening sky before pulling her shawl around her and starting on up the hill. I hastened after her.
‘Young woman - a moment of your time if you please.’
She stopped and looked me up and down. ‘You’re not one of my regulars.’
‘Madam,’ I said indignantly, ‘I assure you -’
She shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ and set off again up the hill.
‘B-but you do have something I require,’ I stuttered trotting to keep up with her. ‘Information.’
She snorted without slackening her pace. ‘That’s a new word for it.’
‘For which I am happy to pay.’
She looked me up and down sceptically. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Go on, Netta,’ yelled a passing young man. ‘Charge the monk double.
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