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

tested his skill with a bow. All he needs is a horse. Will your monks provide one?”
    Berengar looked Guy up and down. If he was intimidated by being in the company of two such battle-hardened men, he didn’t show it.
    “If they don’t, I’ll find him one, myself,” he promised. “I’ve not had such luck as you. All the knights of the town have either left with Count Alphonse for the Holy Land or they are preparing to join the army of Count Ramón and lay siege to Tortosa.”
    “No one will help in freeing their brothers in arms?” Guy asked. “Have they no honor?”
    “They tell me we’re on a fool’s errand,” Berengar said. “They would rather liberate them through battle than with money.”
    Jehan snorted. “They try that and the first missiles sent over the city walls will be the heads of the hostages. I know.”
    Guy nodded agreement. “I saw much the same in Normandy, and we were fighting other Christians. Who knows what Saracens will do to their prisoners?”
    “Don’t worry,” Jehan told the boy. “We’ll be able to find more men to act as guards before we cross into Spain. Not everyone wants to be at the mercy of some nobleman who doesn’t want to fight if it’s wet out.”
    “That’s right,” Guy said. “And, if it’s anything like the north, there’s many a man who won’t follow this Ramon because of something his father did to their grandmother.”
    Berengar grinned. “That’s true enough.”
    “What about the death of Brother Victor?” Jehan asked. “Will that change matters? I’ve not heard that anyone has been arrested for the crime.”
    “The word is that it was some drunken pilgrim,” Berengar said. “There isn’t much chance of finding him. I spoke with Prior Rodger this morning after Mass and he said we owed it to Brother Victor’s memory to complete his task.”
    “I’m sure his soul will guide us.” Jehan crossed himself, as did the other two.
    “He was a saintly man,” Berengar said. “I never met anyone so willing to believe the best of people.”
    “That’s a good way to get oneself killed,” Guy remarked. “I’m glad I’m a suspicious bastard.”
    “Amen,” Jehan said.

     
    “Come in, Solomon.” Gavi was delighted to see him. “We were beginning to wonder if you had found a more pleasant place to stay.”
    “Thank you, Gavi.” Solomon entered the house. “A blessing upon you for taking me in again. Your home is a haven to me in an insane world.”
    “It sounds as though you need beer and a nice roast chicken.” Nazara laughed.
    “Chicken this early in the year?” Solomon asked. “I hope you didn’t kill a hen just for me.”
    “She stopped laying over the winter,” Gavi explained. “We gave her time to make up her mind to start again but when she didn’t, well, we were going to wait for Pesach but…”
    “I’m honored,” Solomon told him.
    He was careful to eat enough to seem appreciative but still leave some for Gavi and his wife for the next day and the next. It made him angry to see how Gavi was ostracized by the rest of the Jewish community for being a tanner and then by the other tanners and leatherworkers for being a Jew. No one could say a word against him as a man. He did his work well, paid his tithes and taxes, was always ready to help. But when the tables were laid for Passover and friends invited, Gavi was never on the list.
    “Did Yusef find you?” Gavi broke into his thoughts.
    “Yusef? No. Did he say what he wanted?”
    “No, only that it was important.” Gavi tried to refill Solomon’s bowl.
    “Everything is important to Yusef,” Solomon said. “No more, thank you. I’ve eaten enough to last a week. Yusef probably wants me to join him at prayers. He won’t get me that way. They have more than enough for a minyan in Toulouse.”
    But he was fated to have his evening interrupted anyway. They had scarcely finished the meal when someone knocked timidly at the door. Gavi went to open it and returned