Dissolution

'Thank you, Brother Hugh. I would have a word with Brother Luke in private. Where can we go?'

Brother Luke's eyes swivelled anxiously as the chamberlain, looking disappointed, led us to an anteroom where clothes were drying. I faced the young monk sternly.

'Do you know what has been found in the fish pond?'

'They say a dead body, sir.'

'A woman's body, that we think is a girl called Orphan. We have been told that you used to trouble her.'

His eyes widened with terror, then suddenly he was on his knees on the floor, grasping the hem of my robe with thick red fingers.

'I didn't do it, sir. I sported with her only, nothing more! And I wasn't the only one! She was a wanton, she tempted me!'

'Let me go! Look at me!'

He looked up, still kneeling, his eyes wide. I leant forward.

'I want the truth. On your life. Did she tempt you, or did you trouble her?'

'She – she was a woman, sir. The very sight of her was temptation! Her image filled my mind, I was always thinking of her. Satan placed her in my path to tempt me, but I have confessed. I have made confession!'

'I don't give a rush for your confession. You pestered her even after the abbot warned you off, didn't you? Brother Guy had to complain a second time!'

'But I did nothing after that! The abbot said he'd make me leave! By Jesu's blood, I left her alone after that! By his holy blood!'

'The abbot didn't place the matter in the hands of the prior?'

'No, the prior-'

'Well? Well, boy, what?'

'He – he had been guilty of the same thing, and the bursar too.'

'Yes. Any others? Who was it made the girl's life such a misery towards the end?'

'I don't know, sir. I swear, I swear, I never went near the infirmary after the abbot's warning. By Our Lady-'

'Our Lady!' I snorted. 'I doubt even she would be safe from the likes of you were she to return to earth. Get out, begone!'

I glared after him as he scrambled up and fled back into the laundry.

'You scared him to the marrow,' Mark said with a sardonic grin.

'It's easy with cowardly churls like that. The prior and the bursar, eh? Look, there's a door, we can get out that way and avoid those dogs.'

We stepped back into the courtyard. The confrontation with the dogs came back to my mind. I felt drained and it was my turn to lean against the wall for a moment. A babble of noise made me look round.

'God's death, what's going on now?'

People had stopped to watch a procession that was making its way towards the gates. Two monks held up a statue of St Donatus in his Roman robes, hands folded in front of him and wearing a pious expression. The tall thin figure of Brother Jude the pittancer followed, carrying a leathern bag. Finally came Bursar Edwig himself, a winter coat over his habit and gloves on his hands. They approached the space under the gatehouse, where Bugge stood ready to open the gates.

'The dole day,' Mark said.

***

By the time we reached the gate, Bugge had opened it. A crowd outside stood looking at the statue, which the two servants had elevated to their shoulders. Brother Jude raised his bag and called to them.

'Behold! The image of our patron, most holy and sainted Donatus, martyr to the heathen! In the name of his great goodness this charity is given. Pray to him for remittance of your sins!'

We shouldered our way through the onlookers. There were forty or fifty adults crowded round in the snow, old widows and beggars and cripples, some wearing little more than rags and blue-faced with cold. A separate group of whey-faced children was gathered round the plump figure of Mistress Stumpe. The smell from the crowd, even on this cold day, was dreadful. The sea of wretches, who had trudged the mile from the town, bowed and crossed themselves at the monk's words. He stopped abruptly as I appeared at his side.

'What are you doing?' I snapped.

'Just – just distributing the doles, sir-'

'You are asking those poor souls to worship that piece of wood.'

Brother Edwig scuttled forward. 'Only in r-remembrance of the saint's g-goodness, Commissioner.'

'He called on them to pray to the statue! I heard him! Take it away, now!'

The monks lowered the statue and hastily bore it off. Brother Jude, thoroughly shaken, signalled for the baskets to be brought forward. Some of the townspeople were grinning openly.

The almoner called out again in a flustered voice. 'Come forward for your dole and meats.'

'No shoving now,' Bugge shouted as, one by one, the destitute approached. Each was given a tiny silver farthing, the smallest coin of the realm, and something from the baskets. There were apples, loaves of bread, thinly sliced bacon.

Brother Edwig was at my side. 'We m-meant no harm with the s-saint, sir. It is an old ceremony, we forgot its implications. We will am-mend it.'

'You had better.'

'W-we give charity every month. It's in our f-founding charter. The m-meat, these p-people wouldn't see any otherwise.'

'With all your income I would have thought you could spare more funds than this.'