A Summer of Discontent

‘No,’ agreed Alan. ‘They pay someone else to do it for them. But you seem to believe these accusations are unjust — which is encouraging. I do not like de Lisle personally, but no monk wants to see a man of the Church in this kind of trouble, because it reflects badly on the rest of us. I should be delighted to see him exonerated. Do you have information that might help?’

Bartholomew shook his head uncomfortably. ‘Forgive me, Father Prior. I should not have spoken. I was merely surprised that even you believe a high-ranking churchman could be capable of murder.’

Alan’s smile was gentle. ‘You must forgive my manners, too. Michael told me to expect you this week: you are Doctor Bartholomew from Michaelhouse, who is writing a treatise on fevers.’

‘A treatise that will shake Christendom to its very foundations,’ said Michael dryly. ‘A more fascinating and thought-provoking work you could not hope to match — and I should know, because I have been treated to lengthy extracts from it over the last three years. The details regarding different types of phlegm defy description.’

‘Really?’ said Alan warily. ‘I hope there are no sacrilegious sections in this work. Medical men are occasionally driven to present their views on matters best left to monastics, and I do not want my priory associated with wild and heretical theories.’

Michael grinned. ‘There is a physician in Salerno who claims that God’s removal of Adam’s rib to make Eve would be a fatal operation and therefore impossible.’

Alan was visibly shocked. ‘Lord help us!’ he exclaimed, crossing himself. He gazed at Bartholomew. ‘If you want to write that sort of seditious nonsense, please do not do it here. This is a holy place, where every thought and deed is dedicated to God.’

‘Even murder?’ muttered Bartholomew.

Alan did not hear him. ‘I am lucky in my own physician. Brother Henry de Wykes is a god-fearing and sensible fellow, who would never offend our holy Church. He harbours no irreverent notions.’

The priory’s physician sounded dull and tedious, and Bartholomew was surprised when Michael smiled fondly. ‘Henry was kind to me when I was a novice. You will like him, Matt.’

‘Michael tells me that you wish to read books in Ely that are unavailable in Cambridge,’ said Alan to Bartholomew. ‘However, I should warn you that while you are here you will almost certainly hear de Lisle criticised by my monks. He is not popular in the priory.’

‘Why not?’ asked Bartholomew. He immediately wished he had not spoken, suspecting that a good part of their antipathy was due to the fact that the Pope had appointed de Lisle as Bishop of Ely when the monks themselves had elected Alan.

Alan looked modest. ‘No particular reason,’ he said, ‘although his personality does not help. He is arrogant and condescending, and that kind of attitude does not win friends. He is no better and no worse than most bishops I know, although I wish one of my monks had not taken it upon himself to throw in his lot quite so fully with such a man.’

He turned his piercing gaze on Michael, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably. ‘I have been in de Lisle’s service for five years, and during that time I have done nothing more than keep the University in order on his behalf,’ said Michael defensively. ‘It is important that someone is working for the Church there.’

‘I agree,’ said Alan softly. ‘And you have done well. But now de Lisle has asked you to exonerate him from a charge of murder: that has nothing to do with the Church or your beloved University. I will not prevent you from acting as his agent, Michael — although as your Prior, I could — but I do not want my monastery associated with any fall from grace de Lisle might take.’

‘De Lisle will not fall-’ began Michael.

Alan raised a hand that was calloused and scarred from years of working with stone. ‘I know you hope your fortunes will rise by aligning yourself with de Lisle, and your success may well reflect favourably on our Order. But the Bishop might equally prove to be a dangerous ally. Be vigilant, and do not allow him to drag you down with him, should you fail to prove him innocent.’

‘I shall do my best,’ said Michael stiffly.

‘It is a pity you responded to his summons in the first place,’ Alan went on with a sigh. ‘It would have been better if you had avoided the issue altogether, and remained safely in Cambridge.’

‘But I did not know what he wanted,’ objected Michael. ‘All I received were two messages, each instructing me to come immediately.’

Alan did not seem impressed. ‘Really, Michael! I expected more guile from you! You should have guessed that there was something amiss when de Lisle carefully omitted to mention the reason for these abrupt summonses.’

‘Well, it is done now, and I shall have to do the best I can,’ said Michael, a little sulky at the reprimand. ‘If he is innocent, I shall prove it for him.’