A Summer of Discontent

‘Here comes Alan,’ said Bartholomew, as the Prior staggered towards them, laden down under a substantial chest.

‘Do not tell me he is involved, too!’ exclaimed Henry. ‘He always seemed relatively honest.’

‘Another trip each should see most of the treasure secure,’ panted Alan, all but dropping the chest at Symon’s feet. ‘This is probably the most valuable thing, because it contains all our gold pieces and some precious stones. Some of them are worth a small fortune. Be sure to hide it well. Pile some books around it, so it is properly disguised.’

They disappeared up the library stairs together, the chest between them, and moments later came the sound of tomes being shifted around. Bartholomew also heard a cry of dismay from Alan, as he saw for the first time the state of the library; this was followed by Symon’s loudly defensive claims that the mess was temporary. Leycestre and his remaining nephew stood patiently in the shadows, and did not move until Alan and Symon had left for the Prior’s House to collect the last of the treasure, and had returned with it. Then Alan bade Symon a breathless good night, informing him that he had warned the guards to be on the alert for intruders without being specific.

‘Not that it will do much good,’ he added ruefully. ‘The guards tonight are lay-brothers — townsfolk — whose sympathies lie with the people they believe are being oppressed. That is another reason why it would be better for everyone if this plan to rob us were thwarted, and did not result in a physical confrontation. The guards might well fight on the side of the thieves.’

‘I will make sure this door is locked,’ said Symon. ‘Go to your bed, Father. The priory’s treasure will be safe with me.’

‘It will not!’ Michael’s loud voice and the sudden flare of light as torches were lit made everyone jump. The flames immediately revealed Leycestre and his remaining nephew, who turned to melt away into the bushes but found themselves facing the tip of Cynric’s sword. They regarded each other in alarm, and Leycestre turned accusingly to Symon, who was gazing around him in open-mouthed horror.

‘You betrayed us, Symon! You promised to help, and now you have betrayed us!’

‘He has done nothing of the sort,’ said Michael tartly. ‘He is every bit as guilty of this dreadful crime as you are.’

‘This is not how it seems,’ began Symon, appealing to Alan with a sickly smile. ‘It is all a terrible misunderstanding.’

‘You were assisting these men to steal our treasure?’ asked Alan, bewildered and trying to make sense of the scene that was unfolding before him.

Symon glanced around surreptitiously, apparently considering possible escape routes. His eyes lingered on the dark cemetery, but Bartholomew and Henry climbed from among the undergrowth and blocked his path, and Meadowman and the imposing presence of Michael guarded the only other possible way out. The librarian’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

‘They made me do it,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I did not want to.’

‘Yes, we made him,’ said Leycestre harshly. ‘We promised him a share of any treasure he helped us steal, and so placed him under indescribable pressure as he was forced to choose between loyalty to his priory and his natural greed. As you can see, greed won the day.’

‘It was not like that,’ said Symon unsteadily. ‘I would have given my share back to the priory.’

‘Then why steal it at all?’ asked Alan, as unconvinced by Symon’s desperate lies as everyone else who heard them.

‘Because of you,’ said Symon, taking a step closer to Alan and still smiling ingratiatingly. ‘The Bishop is unpopular in the town, and men like him will be the first to go when the rebellion gets under way. Then you will be elected Bishop, and we will all be very much happier.’

‘And I suppose you imagine you will be elected Prior in my place,’ said Alan coolly. ‘You will not. I would never appoint a man who spends half of his time devising ways to shirk his duties and the other half putting his ideas into practice. I had no idea you had allowed our precious library to sink to such an appalling state. What will our visitors think when they see it?’

‘They do not think anything,’ said Henry softly. ‘They are seldom permitted past its portals — and now you know why.’

‘And what do you think will happen to a cathedral-priory if this rebellion ever gains momentum?’ asked Michael of Symon in disgust. ‘It will not only be landowners like de Lisle who will suffer, but our monastery, too. You would never have been appointed Prior, because there would be no priory for you to rule.’

‘We have no grudge against the Benedictines,’ began Leycestre uneasily, trying to salvage what he could from the mess he had created.

Michael rounded on him. ‘Do you not? That is not what you told me the first day I arrived in this miserable city, and I suggest that you have not been entirely honest with Symon about who will be safe and who will be attacked.’