Free House of Shadows by The Medieval Murderers Page B

sneered at his big colleague, his reverence for priests making the very idea sacrilegious, but theidea set John’s mind working. It seemed unlikely that Robert Northam could be implicated, but he was an important man and knew many of the barons and bishops who wielded power in England. God knows what plots and schemes were going on in the higher echelons of government – could he be involved in any of them?
    However, there seemed no way forward to accuse anyone of the killing, let alone the prior himself, and their discussion faded into silence until an old monk approached them and sat down uninvited. He was a wizened man, with no hair left to demarcate his tonsure, his head being covered in wrinkled pink skin. His lined face was relieved by a pair of sharp brown eyes that suggested an active mind inside that shrivelled exterior.
    Thomas smiled a welcome at him and shifted along his bench to let the old man get nearest to the fire. ‘This is Brother Martin, whom I spoke to earlier,’ he explained. ‘He supervises the scriptorium next to the chapter house and keeps the archives of the priory.’
    In a quavering voice that spoke of his advanced years, the monk enquired after their health and their lodgings and bemoaned the cold weather, which ‘plagued his old bones’, as he put it. The conversation, prompted by the eager Thomas, got around to the history of the priory, by which time Gwyn was nodding off with boredom.
    â€˜It was much smaller than this in the early days, some ninety years ago,’ explained the archivist. ‘But it grew fast with patronage. I hardly recognize it from what it was when I was a novice here, about fifty years ago. Old buildings knocked down and new ones springing up.’
    â€˜The priory received many gifts, then?’ asked John politely, though he was not much interested.
    â€˜A lot of money and land from wealthy donors, sir. At one time it became fashionable to give to Bermondsey…lands, rents, advowsons, even whole manors sometimes. Rich folk would pay a lot for Masses to be said for their souls to spend as little time as possible in purgatory!’
    His face took on a faraway look as he peered back in time. ‘Only a few months ago I was required to check on an old covenant dating back to the early years of the century, as there was some dispute about our right to the manor of Kingweston in Somerset. It was strange, for there had been parts of the entry scratched out, which made my task difficult.’
    â€˜This is the matter you told me of when we spoke in the cloister?’ said Thomas. ‘There was some reference to another chronicle, you said?’
    â€˜Long ago, I found another old parchment from those days, which listed the witnesses to Count Eustace’s grant of the manor and advowson of Kingweston, one of which was a Brother Francis of this priory. His name had been erased from the deed itself and there is no other record of him ever existing. I told the prior of the irregularity and tampering, but he became quite annoyed and told me to forget all about it, as it was of no consequence. He took the old document from me and I’ve not seen it since.’
    John wondered what this had to do with anything and soon the old monk had warmed himself sufficiently and wandered off.
    â€˜What was all that about?’ he demanded of his clerk, prodding Gwyn to silence his loud snores.
    Thomas smiled slyly; he was always keen to probe into old stories and gossip. ‘From talking to several older monks, it seems that there was some scandal here many years ago. It was hushed up but refuses to be extinguished. The odd thing is that it also involved aroyal ward – of the first Henry. She vanished along with a monk, and it is thought they eloped, though some claim she was murdered and is the cause of all these rumours of ghosts and evil spirits. Much of Brother Ignatius’s obsession with devils and imps seems to be fostered