Free The Abbot's Agreement by Mel Starr

although his hand is better than Osbert’s. He will find a useful life in the scriptorium, I think.”
    “Did Osbert or Henry resent John’s wit?”
    Brother Gerleys chewed upon his lower lip, then replied, “I know what you’re thinking. Osbert and Henry often suffered sharp rebukes from John when he disagreed with them, but neither would slay him… my life upon it.”
    “Think back to their most recent dispute. What was it about? And when?”
    “Ah,” Brother Gerleys sighed again. “A fortnight past, I believe. ’Twas about a lass.”
    “Novices speaking of a maid? You allowed this?”
    “Nay. I came upon them as the quarrel ended.”
    “A lass, you said. Was this a maid known to the three?”
    “Aye… Maude atte Pond. The reeve’s daughter.”
    “What did John say of her?”
    “Don’t know. I came upon them as Henry was telling John ’twas not meet to speak so of the lass.”
    “But you did not hear what John said which troubled Henry?”
    “Nay.”
    “What did John reply?”
    “Laughed, and said as how Henry was not likely ever to learn how to please a lass. Then he saw me appear and fell silent, as did Henry and Osbert.”
    “Osbert is shrewd, you say, and Henry is dull?”
    “Aye.”
    “When John had dispute with either, did they rebut him or allow his challenges to pass unanswered?”
    “Henry soon learned that any reply he might make to John would be turned against him. But Osbert could occasionally parry an attack and respond with a thrust of his own.”
    “You condoned such bickering?”
    “Of course not. ’Tis my work… ’twas my work, to teach John Whytyng humility and to teach patience to Osbert and Henry. Both virtues are needful in a monk.”
    “Did you succeed?”
    Brother Gerleys chewed again upon his lower lip before speaking. “Osbert and Henry are apt students. I was unable to persuade John that there were others who might know more than he did. John is… was like the cock who believes the sun rises to hear him crow.”
    “What of the monks of the abbey? Had John belittled any of them as he did Osbert and Henry?”
    “I think not. Novices have little to do with those who have taken vows, but for Prior Philip and Abbot Thurstan. And even John Whytyng would have held his tongue in the presence of abbot or prior.”
    I thought it might be illuminating to discover from Osbert and Henry what it was that John Whytyng had said about the reeve’s daughter. Our conversation in the kitchen garden havingended, I told Brother Gerleys my intention and walked with him back to the novices’ chamber, where Osbert and Henry bent over ink pots and parchment, which had been scraped clean of writing for reuse. A brief glance over Henry’s shoulders confirmed Brother Gerleys’ observation that he might become a skilled copyist. He was, I assumed, the older of the two, but age could not completely account for the difference in the quality of the two novices’ work.
    “Put down your pens,” Brother Gerleys said. “Master Hugh wishes to discuss a matter with you.”
    The novices did as commanded and peered up at me expectantly. I drew up a bench and sat across the table from them.
    “Brother Gerleys has told me that a fortnight past you and John Whytyng were heard in dispute about Maude atte Pond. What did John say of the lass which you took amiss?”
    Osbert’s expression did not change, but Henry’s face reddened as if he’d been dunked head first into a vat of madder. Neither youth spoke.
    “Come, lads,” the novice-master commanded. “Answer Master Hugh.”
    The novices cast glances toward each other, each hoping the other would speak. Neither did. Henry’s visage continued to glow.
    Brother Gerleys grew impatient. “Speak,” he said sharply, “or you will spend the night flat upon your faces before the altar, repenting your disobedience.”
    I believe Henry would have accepted the penalty and kept silent, but Osbert, after a few moments contemplating how cold the