The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery by Sharan Newman Page A

tricks. I’d soon find out if he was lying.”
    The prior was at a loss as to how to answer. He remembered the incident a few years before, when James had tried to convict a Jew of murdering one of their monks. That had ended in embarrassment for the abbey and a scandal regarding the dead man’s past. And yet, James’s questions were valid.
    The bell over their head began to toll, causing both men to start.
    “None already!” Prior Rodger exclaimed. “We must be on our way to the chapel.”
    “But the Jew,” James said. “Will you let me speak with him?”
    “I must consult with Prior Stephen and the bailiff,” Rodger said. “This isn’t our town. We must abide by their customs. I shall give you the decision as soon as possible.”
    With that, James had to be content.
     
     
    Solomon found Arnald in the marketplace sitting glumly in front of an assortment of salt cones. He brightened when he saw Solomon.
    “How is Belide?” he asked.
    “Languishing in her cell,” Solomon answered. “But otherwise unharmed. Whatever possessed you to bring her into this insane rescue plot of yours?”
    “Hush!” Arnald looked around to see if anyone was listening. “What did she tell you? Do her parents know?”
    “Everything and not yet,” Solomon answered. “Although why they shouldn’t is inexplicable to me. As is your part in it.”
    “Aaron is my best friend,” Arnald said simply. “He would have gone alone to Spain and stormed the place where this woman is being held. I persuaded him that he’d only be killed. Victor is…was…another friend. Both Aaron and I knew him before he decided to turn religious. I thought he might have a better plan.”
    “And did he?” Solomon could feel himself being pulled in but his curiosity was too strong to resist.
    “He thought we should try to buy her back,” Arnald said. His disappointment was obvious.
    Solomon relaxed. “A much more sensible idea. So that’s why Aaron is in Bordeaux selling horses so early in the year? I thought it was for his wedding to Mayah. Why is a man about to be wed concerning himself with the fate of another woman?”
    Arnald began to fuss with the cones, rearranging them on their trays.
    “I think she may be a relative,” he told Solomon, his eyes on his work. “He didn’t tell you?”
    “No,” Solomon snapped.
    He could tell that Arnald wasn’t giving him the whole truth but couldn’t think of the right question to make him spill it.
    “I’m surprised that your father has allowed you out,” he said instead.
    “He has other ways of keeping me on a short tether,” Arnald answered, his shoulders drooping.
    “Ah, yes, your vineyard,” Solomon said. “Belide told me. Why don’t you earn the money for it, yourself?”
    “I have,” Arnald said. “But until I’m twenty-five, my father has the last word on what I do with it. Isn’t that the custom where you come from?”
    “Not that I know of,” Solomon answered. “So you risked your future when you agreed to help Aaron.”
    “I told you,” Arnald said. “He would do the same for me.”
    “But why didn’t Aaron go to the community?” The secrecy of it was what puzzled Solomon. “You know we ransom our own.”
    “Aaron said that he couldn’t,” Arnald answered.
    Solomon knew that he would get no more from him. He wished Aaron in the darkest level of sheol for setting this nonsense in motion, but not until he had returned to explain everything.
    “Solomon!” Arnald called as he turned to go. “Will you take a message to Belide for me? Tell her I’m proud of her and that I’m sorry. Please?”
    “Very well,” Solomon said. “But I won’t see her until tomorrow. I’m going to have a word with my uncle and then spend a peaceful evening with my friend, Gavi.”
     
     
    “Berengar, I want you to meet the third member of our party, Guy of Anjou.” Jehan had found the new man a place at the inn where they were staying. “He says he can fight and I’ve just