Devil's Acre (4 page)

‘My blindness is my own doing.
The sin of pride, I fear.’

‘
How does pride blind you - other than metaphorically?’

He thought for a moment. ‘When I was young I thought I knew all: the meaning of life and God’s purpose for man in it. It is the eternal arrogance of youth. Then it happened one day that I fell into argument with another. The dispute ran for days - months. In the end it could only be settled by one-to-one combat.’

‘A duel. You’re saying you lost your sight a duel?’

He screwed up his face as thou
gh the memory were painful. ‘Not exactly. I am almost too embarrassed to tell you. The truth is I discovered to my disgust that I was a coward. I did not have the confidence to win by fair means so I chose to do so by foul.’

‘You mean you hi
red a champion to fight for you?’

He shook his head. ‘
No no, I did my own fighting - I wasn’t so much of a coward. I prepared thoroughly. I honed my skills. I was more than ready for the coming battle. The odds were in my favour for I was the better man. But chance wasn’t enough for me. I wanted certainty. So I swore on the sacred shrine of Saint Edmund that I would give all I possessed to the abbey and become a priest if only I should win.’

‘
You tried to bribe the blessed Edmund?’ I guffawed. ‘I can’t imagine him agreeing to that. I take it that you lost.’

‘On the contrary, I won a famous victory. My opponent conceded defeat and left the field blooded.’

‘He was injured too?’

‘
Let us just say he survived the encounter - as did I or I should not be here retelling the tale. But neither of us came off lightly. I received an injury too - look.’ He pulled back his hair and showed me a scar high up on his left temple.

My next question was obvious but
I took a deep breath before I asked it: ‘Father tell me, it was Abbot Samson who was your opponent in this duel, wasn’t it? Is that the cause of his outburst tonight? The fact that he lost?’

He
frowned. ‘These things are best left in the past, my son.’

‘
Well then answer me this at least: did you keep your word to the saint? Did you give away all your possessions?’

He shook his head. ‘That
is why I say I was a coward. I couldn’t do it. When it came to it I found I loved money more than honour. I convinced myself that it was by my own prowess that I won and the Saint Edmund had nothing to do with it. Pride, you see? It is the very worst of sins. But I was justly dealt with. Shortly after the duel Saint Edmund appeared to me in a dream. He reminded me of my promise and asked me why I had not kept it. I had no answer for him and the next morning I awoke as I am now.’

‘You blame the martyr for blinding you?’

He shook his head. ‘I blame myself.’

‘
Father, I understand your distress and commend your devotion to the blessed martyr. But I am also a doctor used to dealing in practicalities. Do you not consider that your head injury might be the cause of your loss of sight?’

‘No,
’ he insisted vigorously. ‘It was the saint. I could not see the truth, therefore I should see nothing else. A just punishment. One form of blindness for another.’

‘Yet
here you are a priest.’

‘In the end I did
fulfil my promise - that part of it at least. But I still have a debt to repay.’

‘
And so far Saint Edmund has not relented? He never restored your eyesight.’

‘I live in hope, brother.’ He had stopped at the entrance to a modest dwelling. ‘
Well, here we are. Thank you for accompanying me, it was a kindness. I have enjoyed our little chat. I bid you a good night.’ He started towards the door.

‘
Erm, I was hoping we might speak more, father.’

He frowned.
‘I am very tired.’

‘
May we speak, then, tomorrow when you are rested?’

‘Perhaps.’

So saying, he disappeared into the priesthouse.

A
s I trudged back to my lodging I tried to visualize the abbot and the priest locked in mortal combat and found the notion preposterous. Even though it all happened so long ago I couldn’t imagine Samson fighting a duel - even less how this slight bird of a man could overpower the bull that must have been Samson of Tottington in his prime. And despite Samson’s apparent loathing for the man, Ralf didn’t seem to reciprocate the ill-feeling. Indeed he seemed to admire the abbot. It didn’t really make sense. I was sure there was more to this story than Ralf was saying and resolved to tackle him again in the morning before we left. Unfortunately I never got the chance.

Chapter
6

A
N UNTIMELY DEATH

‘Dead?
What do you mean he’s dead?’

‘
What do you think I mean? He is no longer alive.’             

‘But I was talking to him only last night. We walked back to the priesthouse
together. He was perfectly all right then.’

‘Well he isn’t anymore.’

We were in my room at the guest lodge. Samson had come across specifically to tell me the appalling news. I sat down heavily on the bed trying to take it in.

‘Ralf dead? I still can’t believe it. How did he die, do we know?’

‘Peacefully in his sleep as far as one can tell. You have to understand he wasn’t a young man or in the best of health.’

I recalled Ralf having breathing difficulties the previous night. He said it was due to the coldness of the night air.

‘Who found him?’

‘His housekeeper.’

‘You mean Jane, the servant woman we saw him with last night?’

‘Jane, yes.’

I shook my head. ‘The poor woman. It must have been awful for her. She was devoted to him.’

Samson sat down next to me on the bed. ‘You do know she wasn’t just his housekeeper don’t you?’
he said quietly.

It took me a moment to
understand what he meant. When I did I put my head in my hands. ‘Oh dear God!’

Samson patted my shoulder.
‘These cases are always difficult. We mustn’t blame him. A man in Ralf’s condition needing constant care like that. Not that one condones such arrangements, of course.’

‘How can you know?’

‘I don’t for certain. I’m assuming. Perhaps unjustly. However, this morning Jane was very distraught. And these things happen.’

I suddenly had a thought. ‘That wouldn’t be the reason for your outburst last night, would it father?’

He looked offended. ‘You know me better than that. Good God, half the vicarages in Suffolk would be empty without these...housekeepers. As long as they are discreet about it, one tries not to notice.’

‘Well then what
was the reason for your anger? I’m assuming it wasn’t the broken water jug.’

Samson grimaced. ‘It all
happened a very long time ago.’

‘So Father Ralf said.’

‘Did he? Well, best forgotten now. Speaking ill of the dead and so on - never a good thing.’

‘Clearly
not forgotten by you.’

‘
This is not the time, Walter. Be advised by me. It will do no good raking over old cinders.’

I supposed he was right although I couldn’t help wondering if the upset hadn’t contributed in some way to Ralf’s death. If we hadn’t come
would Ralf still be alive?

I sighed.
‘What do you want to do? Someone will have to take the committal service. Under the circumstances I suppose it had better be me.’

‘Ah
, well now. That might be a bit of a problem. The prioress would prefer it if he were not buried inside the convent grounds.’

‘You’ve already spoke to
Mother Odell about this?’

‘I had to.
’ He hesitated. ‘Actually it’s Jane. Well you’ve seen her. Not the most tactful of women. She will want to visit the grave.’ He shook his head. ‘We can’t have that. Living quietly in sin is one thing. Advertising the fact to the world is quite another.’

‘But surely some out of the way corner could be found? And a faithful servant visiting the grave
of her master shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.’

‘The other nuns would know.
Anyway, I’m not sure Ralf would want to be buried here. Thetford was never his real home.’

‘Where was his
real home?’

‘Tottington.’

A faint alarm bell started ringing in my head. ‘Isn’t that your home village, father?’

‘Yes it is. It’s on our way so it will be no trouble.’

I frowned. ‘I’m not sure I follow you, father.’

‘
Didn’t I say? We’re taking the body with us.’

My jaw dropped open
in amazement. ‘You want us to take Ralf’s body with us when we leave here?’

‘Only
to Tottington. It’s not far, just up the road really. His family’s there. It’s the best option. Don’t worry, Jane will still be able to visit him.’

‘That’s hardly the point
, father. We can’t go ferrying dead bodies around the countryside.’

‘
Why not? Monks do it all the time. Cuthbert of Northumberland, William of Norwich. Our own dear Edmund was moved thrice before he found his final resting place in the abbey.’

‘That was different. They were saints.’

‘Who’s to say Ralf isn’t? Anyway, it’s not open for discussion. It’s what Mother Odell wants and I’ve agreed.’

‘
Isn’t this is all a bit of a rush? He’s only just died.’

‘I’ve told you, I have to be back in Bury
.’

‘Well then
, let’s leave him here and someone else can do the committal.’

He shook his head.
‘It’s already been agreed. We’ll be taking him with us when we leave this morning. Now come along. The day is short and we’ve a long way to go.’ He started towards the door.

Someth
ing wasn’t right here. The alarm bell was ringing wildly in my head by now.

‘I want to see the body.’

Samson stopped and turned. ‘What?’

‘
Before we go. I want to see the body.’

‘Why?’

‘I may be able to determine cause of death.’

‘I’ve already told you the cause of death. He was
an old man.’

‘It’s not an unreasonable request. A doctor should
always examine a body in a case of sudden death.’

‘
It’s not sudden. He’s been ill for a while.’

‘
I consider it my professional duty, as a physician.’

‘
Your duty, as a monk, is to obey your abbot.’

‘
Nevertheless I would feel happier if I knew how to answer if asked.’

His eyes narrowed.
‘Asked by whom?’

‘I don’t know - the sheriff, the king’s coroner.’

Samson thought for a minute. ‘Very well, you may examine the body. But don’t take too long over it. It is already mid-morning. With two extra mules -’

‘
Two
extra mules?’

‘Yes of course. I’m not completely insensitive. Jane will want to accompany the body. Or do you want to be the one to tell her she can’t?’

It is curious the effect cold we
ather has on flesh. It slows down the corruption process. I myself have experimented with dead rats in the past leaving the corpses outside my laboratorium in the winter snow and comparing the results with others I kept inside by a fire. The ones left outside were comparatively fresh after a few days while those by the fire had already begun to putrefy. And the colder it is the longer they can be left - or so it seems.

The preservation of earthly remains is always a problem when someone dies far from home. If it is high summer then the time available to move the body is short indeed. I have even known corpses explode unless the precaution is taken first to open up the gut.
Placing the body in a vat of malmsey is one solution, but that’s costly. Then of course there is the smell. Nothing offends the human nostril more than the stench of rotting meat. Small wonder that the bodies of those who cannot be buried immediately are often boiled and the flesh removed. This is what happened to Bishop John de Gray of Norwich who died unexpectedly in France in the autumn of 1214. His family think his body is buried in Norwich Cathedral, but it is only his bones that were brought back to England. The rest of him lies in the village of Saint Jean d’Angély in Poitou.

Ralf’s corpse when I went to look for it wasn’t lying outside in the snow but in the cellar beneath the kitchens - not the ideal place if one’s intension is preservation. It was being guarded by the ubiquitous
and multi-talented Sister Benjamin. Today she wore a work smock over her habit and had her sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

‘Oh, this is a terrible how-di-do,’ she frowned ringing her hands together. ‘Most unfortunate.’

‘Yes indeed,’ I agreed. ‘Poor Father Ralf.’

‘To die just when the abbot is here. The timing could hardly be worse.’

I looked at the woman wondering if she was being serious.

‘Not entirely unexpected, of course,’ she went on hastily. ‘He wasn’t at all well.’

‘So I keep being told. What exactly was wrong with him? I presume you prescribed in your capacity as dispenser?’

She took the question with great seriousness and marshalled her thoughts carefully before answering.

‘He’d been having trouble with his breathing. He would purse his lips and pant thus -
huff, huff, huff
.’

‘Yes, he was doing the same on our walk back to the priesthouse last evening. How long had he been like that, do you know?’

‘He first came to me - oh, about a month ago I suppose. I prescribed Sal ammoniac inhalation, but I don’t think it did much good.’

I
ndeed it would not. Sal ammoniac is an astringent that if anything would probably have made his breathing worse.

‘What gave you the idea to use Sal ammoniac?’

Her frown deepened. ‘I can’t remember now. Something the abbot might have recommended.’

‘Abbot Samson recommended
you use Sal Ammoniac?’

‘
He might have done. I believe he did, yes.’

‘Does Abbot Samson often recommend medical remedies?’

She smiled indulgently. ‘The abbot has the welfare of us all constantly in his eye. He advises a great many things. I always try to do as he suggests.’

‘Yes but...’  I bit my lip. ‘Did Ralf complain of anything else? Palpitations of the heart? Digestive problems?’

‘Not to me.’

‘I see. Well,
thank you sister. I think I’d like to see the body now if I may.’

Benjamin folded back the shroud carefully and neatly as far as the chest. Despite having his jaw bound
shut I could see it was Ralf all right, his face at least, but not much else.

‘This is a fine piece of work,’ I said admiring the shroud. ‘Beautifully embroidered.’

‘Sister Angelina’s work again. You remember the flowers?’

‘Ah yes, the cornflowers. Wonderful.’ I felt the material between my fingertips and
then began folding it back further.

I immediately felt a restraining hand on my arm. ‘Brother, what are you doing?’

‘Removing the shroud, sister. Don’t worry, I won’t damage it.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry brother, that is out of the question.’

‘Sister I can’t examine him like this.’

‘
Examine?
No-one said anything to me about examine.
View
is what I was told.’

‘But I must inspect the body, sister.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘In order to look for any...’

I very nearly said the word “evidence”

‘...signs. Please, I’ve no doubt you do an excellent job looking after the living, sister, but with all due respect you are not a doctor. You must allow me to do my
job.’

I knew before the words were out of my mouth that I had made a mistake. I could feel the barriers going up.

‘I may not have your medical training, brother, but I flatter myself I understand the fundamentals. A physician is concerned with the living, is he not? There is nothing more you can do for Ralf now. It would be sacrilege to allow you to continue for the sake of prurient curiosity.’

‘Prurient -?’
Now it was my turn to bristle. ‘Sister, my interest is more than mere curiosity. And I’m surprised you were not told I was coming before you trussed him up like a stuffed peacock.’