Heresy: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (37 page)

“Astrolabe woke up just after dawn,” Godfrey told them. “His head feels like it’s been cleaved by an axe, he says, but otherwise he’s fine.”

“I want to see for myself,” Margaret said.

She swept by the guard with queenly arrogance.

Catherine followed, happy to be in her train.

John was sitting next to the bed when they came in.

“You look worse than he does,” Margaret said, studying his scrapes.

“Gwenael is a fearsome opponent,” John admitted. “But all my scars are on the surface. They’ll soon heal.”

Astrolabe was pale, but his eyes were clear.

“Forgive me for not getting up,” he said. “If I lift my head even a fraction, the pain is blinding. But the infirmarian says it will pass in a day or two. If you and John hadn’t come looking for me, Margaret, I’d be bled dry by now. I have no words to express my gratitude.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking at all,” John told him sternly.

“We just wanted to see for ourselves that you were still among the living,” Catherine told him. “We won’t tire you. Margaret and I will come back this afternoon.”

Astrolabe wasn’t ready to rest.

“John has told me most of what happened,” he said. “I can’t yet comprehend how Gwenael’s devotion to Eon could have warped her so.”

“I don’t think it was devotion, but guilt,” Catherine told him. “I think the first betrayal of Eon was hers. She said so more than once, but I thought she only meant that she ran from the soldiers, like the apostles. But then I learned that she had likened herself to Judas. Judas gave Our Lord to the Romans. You told me it was Gwenael who warned the camp that the raiders were coming. She had seen them in the forest.”

“That’s right,” Astrolabe said. “She was out gathering wood.”

“I’m just guessing,” Catherine went on, “but dawn is a strange time to go for wood. We usually wait until the sun has dried the dew. I suspect Gwenael met the men by arrangement and directed them to the camp.”

“But why?” Godfrey asked. “I’d bet my mail shirt that her faith in him is total.”

“I don’t know,” Catherine admitted. “Perhaps she didn’t understand any better than Eon did. She may have felt that it was necessary for him to be captured so that he could prove his godhood. Whatever the reason, she soon regretted it. Her way of atoning was to remove anyone else who, in her eyes, threatened him.”

Astrolabe started to shake his head, but a slash of pain stopped the motion.

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know for certain why she acted as she did,” he said.

“Abbot Bernard has asked to speak with her,” Margaret said. “He says an iniquity this deep must be cleansed. He’s managed to bring other heretics back to the faith.”

“I don’t think even Bernard of Clairvaux can penetrate Gwenael’s convictions,” John said. “But he’s the only man who has even a chance.”

“Oh!” Margaret said, “I almost forgot, John. Count Thibault wants you to come see him.”

“If he wants to reward me,” John told her, “please tell him that there’s no need. Your life is precious to me, too.”

“I don’t think he was going to give you a bag of gold,” Margaret said. “But I told him about your search for a position. I said that Catherine knew you quite well, that you had studied with every master in France and that you had a letter from Abbot Peter of Celle, whom he knows, of course, since it’s not far from Troyes.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” John said, “but I don’t feel right taking a benefice from a secular lord.”

“I hadn’t finished,” Margaret said. “Grandfather said that these were all good recommendations and that he would ask Abbot Bernard to write you a letter of introduction to the archbishop of Canterbury. Is that all right, John?”

Even with a face full of scratches and one black eye, John’s expression resembled that of a man who has just received a vision of paradise.

“My lady Margaret.” He went down on one knee to her. “If ever I can serve you in any way, you have only to ask. I will come from the farthest corner of Christendom to repay you for your kindness.”

He raised his hands to her in the gesture of fealty. Margaret placed hers around them.

Then she ruined the solemnity of the moment by grinning.

“Just do a good job and don’t forget us when you become a bishop,” she said.

“It seems odd to think that the council is still going on,” Catherine commented as she, Margaret, John and Godfrey left the Temple. “And people here are going about their affairs as if they hadn’t been certain three days ago that the world was about to end.”

“Well, it didn’t,” Margaret said, as if that explained everything. “Countess Mahaut told me that at the end of the day, the pope is going to put King Stephen under anathema. She didn’t seem very upset by it. She intends to be there. Do you want to come?”

“You might want to, Catherine,” John said. “I have on good authority that Archbishop Theobald of Canterbury”—he let the name resonate in his mouth—“will make a plea for clemency in the case of the king.”

“Really?” Catherine said. “That does sound interesting. Yes, I’d like to witness that. But even more, I want to see my children. Every minute away from them feels like an eternity. I didn’t do what I was supposed to here, but Astrolabe is no longer in danger and there is no reason to prolong this visit.”

“What about Arnulf?” Godfrey asked. “What if he continues to make those accusations?”

“He may, but only the monks of Marmoutier will hear him,” John answered. “Archbishop Engebaud is having him sent back to Tours under guard. They won’t allow him to leave again.”

“Then, really, there’s nothing more to do,” Margaret said happily.

Now that Margaret was no longer threatened with a husband, she was animated once again. Catherine rejoiced at the change. Now if she could just grow out of her infatuation with Solomon, everything would be wonderful.

“That’s right,” she agreed. “And really, I don’t think there were any real heretics at all. Even the council only thought Eon deluded, and Gwenael only believed in him, not in a new theology.”

But for some reason her mind strayed to the lepers she had seen in town and then in the churchyard. Two women and two men who bore no marks of the disease. Yesterday there had been five beggars by the cathedral. Three men and two women. But they hadn’t moved like supplicants. And one of the men had kissed Annora’s hand.

The drama of the last-minute delivery of the king of England from excommunication had been very satisfying. The council came to an end, and most of the abbots, bishops, lords and their entourages prepared to return home. A handful stayed to present one more case before the pope. The bishop of Hereford had fallen ill on the first day and was not expected to live. The cardinals and the more scholarly of those present remained for the trial of Bishop Gilbert of Poitiers. If his opponents had hoped to weaken him through waiting, they would be disappointed. Catherine noticed him in the crowd at the closing processional and he looked, if anything, eager for the fight.

She wished she could stay for the debates, but the craving to hold James and Edana again was too great.

“Astrolabe won’t be ready to travel for several days,” she told John. “Countess Sybil is going back to Flanders. I know you are wild to get on a dreadful boat for England. There must be someone going in the direction of the Paraclete who would take me along.”

“Godfrey is one of Edgar’s men,” John reminded her. “He’ll accompany you.”

“No, he needs to stay with Astrolabe,” Catherine said.

“Margaret?” John suggested. “She has to get back at some point.”

“I don’t know,” Catherine said worriedly. “The countess seems determined to see that she make the acquaintance of all the noble families of Champagne, Burgundy, France and beyond. The count is staying for the trial.”

“So am I,” John said. “I wouldn’t miss it. So I can let you know if it’s decided that the commentary on Boethius is heretical.”

“You know, I don’t care what the judgment is,” Catherine said. “I’ve finished the book and know that Master Gilbert’s orthodoxy is sure. The only thing he could be chided for is his abstruse syntax. John, I want to see my babies!”

“And you used to be such an ardent scholar,” John said sadly.

Catherine was almost ready to send for her horse and start out alone when Margaret saved her.

“Countess Mahaut wants to return at once to Troyes,” she told Catherine the next morning. “She has much to attend to. She’ll take me to the Paraclete on the way. Can you be ready to leave tomorrow?”

“Margaret, I’m ready now.”

The countess’s party moved too slowly for Catherine, but she endured the journey, knowing that each day they came a little closer to James and Edana.

One day they went by a small group of pilgrims walking barefoot through the cold mud at the side of the road.

Catherine watched as the party gained on them. Three men and two women, all moving proudly, oblivious to the elements.

As she came up to them, one man held out his bowl for alms.

Catherine leaned over to drop a coin in. Instead of looking quickly away, she stared into the face of the pilgrim.

Gui looked back at her and winked.

The countess had sent messengers ahead to alert the convent of their arrival as well as give Heloise a report on the events, especially the complete exoneration of Astrolabe. So the party was expected, and by the time they reached the gates of the convent there was a welcoming party.

“Mama! Mama!” Two small bodies raced toward her.

Catherine almost fell from her horse in her haste to reach them.

“My precious Edana!” The child threw herself at Catherine with the force of a catapult, knocking her down.

Catherine lay on the grass being pummeled with kisses. James stood over her as Edana gave her a month’s worth of affection.

“I can write my name, Mama,” he said. “I can read a whole
Nostre Pere
. Sister Emily taught me. See, I’ll show you.”

He tried to turn her head so she could see the letters he was making with his finger in the dirt. Edana moved her sloppy kisses to the region of Catherine’s ear.

“That’s wonderful, darling!” she exclaimed. “I’m very proud of you. What have the sisters been feeding you? I’m sure you’re taller.”

“That’s what Papa said,” James finished the letters. “See?
Jacobus
. That’s Latin for James.”

“Yes, James, very…did you say Papa?”

“He did.”

Edana was lifted off her. Edgar loomed above like the wrath of God, his face as stern. He held out his handless arm. She took hold of the sleeve and got to her feet.

“Edgar! What are you doing here?” she asked. “Is something wrong? Is Solomon safe?”

“Solomon was fine when I left him ten days ago,” Edgar said, barely keeping the anger from exploding on her. “He told me it was easier to handle the trade on his own than put up with my constant worrying about you. I had a feeling that you were in trouble. It appears I was right.”

“Edgar, I had to go to Reims,” she started.

“You were supposed to watch over our family.” His voice rose, despite knowing that people were watching. “I raced back here to be sure you were all well. Instead I find you and Margaret gone and our children being spoiled rotten by a houseful of nuns! How could you leave them, even to help Astrolabe? You knew there were men hunting him. How could you risk losing another baby? Judas’s twisted neck, Catherine, you could have been killed!”

Catherine felt tears starting. Angrily, she wiped them away with her sleeve.

“James and Edana were well cared for here,” she retorted. “They suffered no harm from my absence. Yes, I might have miscarried during this journey. There was danger, more than I expected. But that doesn’t matter. I couldn’t turn my back on a friend. It was my duty to aid him in any way I could. You know that. If I had refused to go, you might have felt it was the most prudent decision, but you’d have respected me less for being a coward. And I would have felt the shame of it the rest of my life.”

Edgar continued to glare at her. Catherine glared back. In Edgar’s arms, Edana tried to tickle both their faces but they ignored her.

Margaret felt it was time to intervene.

“Put away your anger, Edgar,” she told him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “If Catherine had not taken on the burden of this journey, then a murderer would have gone free, Astrolabe would be forever branded a heretic and I’d be on my way to marry Lord Otto of Carinthia.”

“What!” That got Edgar’s attention.

“I’ll explain later,” Margaret said. “Now kiss your wife and make peace.”

“Edgar, I…” Catherine began.

“Do you have any idea of how I felt when I arrived and learned you’d gone to Reims?”

His face told her.

“I thought I’d be back safely long before you returned,” she explained. “You should have been gone at least another two months. Edgar, you trusted me to make the decisions. I acted according to my conscience. The safety of all of our children is the most important thing to me. You have to believe that and continue to have faith in me.”

“I kept thinking there was a threat near to you,” he said. “I couldn’t throw off the feeling. Even when I realized what had started it, I still had to come back. It isn’t a matter of faith, but fear.”

“What was it that upset you so?”

“The hermits.” He loosened Edana and let her slide down his leg. “The ones Solomon and I took shelter with. There was something wrong about them. I finally realized that they were just like those people in Trier, the dualist heretics. There were only three of them, but they must have been expecting more. That’s why there were two buildings and an oratory. I knew in my head that they couldn’t do you any harm. There was no likelihood that they would even cross your path. But something in me said they were a threat to you. I know it’s foolish.”

“No, not completely,” Catherine said. “Two women and a man? Very thin and pale but straight limbed and vigorous.”

“Yes,” he said.

“They were in Reims,” she told him. “But they posed no threat to us. They were on the edge of events. I could never decide if they were wraiths or angels or simply people who had no interest in this world and its cares.”