“My duty is to keep an eye on things for my uncle, see that nothing goes astray. My uncle doesn’t like his property wandering from the village. Being a godly man, he naturally tries to follow the example of the Good Shepherd, and seek out that which is lost. So when I found the church chest was somewhat… denuded, I made a few discreet inquiries. I think you know what I discovered, don’t you, Father?”
I sank into the chair and covered my face with my hands. There was no longer any point in denying it. I raised my head. Phillip was studying me with an amused expression on his face, as he might have watched the misery of a baited bear.
“When are you going to tell the Bishop the church silver is missing?” I asked him bitterly. “If you’d got here a minute or two sooner you could have told the Commissarius tonight and saved yourself the ride to Norwich.”
“Father, you are even more of a fool than I took you for. Why should I tell the Bishop anything? You spoke the truth when you said nothing was missing.”
My head was swimming from the wine. I could make no sense of what he was saying. “But I thought you said the chest…”
“I said the chest was empty. And now, miraculously, it is full again.”
My shock and bewilderment must have been obvious, for Phillip chuckled.
“Your moneylender friend was persuaded to return the items you gave him to me. The jewelled chalice and all the other items are now safely back in the church chest.” He held up his hand in mock protest. “Oh, no, Father, don’t thank me.”
I stared at him. “But why would you…?”
“If you think it was to save your miserable hide, Father, you should know by now I am not that generous. I would have enjoyed seeing you suffer at the little ferret’s hands. I regret I had to deny myself that pleasure. Something tells me our friend, the Commissarius, could be most creative in the punishments he devised, and he really doesn’t like you at all, does he, Father?
“No, I’m afraid I did not recover the church’s treasure to spare you. You see, the items in that chest were given to St. Michael’s by my ancestors. They were brought back from the Crusades or made as thank offerings for births and marriages or even, I wager, as penance for the many sins they much enjoyed. So I have a certain… attachment to them.” He shrugged. “You might call it a filial duty to the memory of my forebears to guard them. But if the Bishop was to learn how close these valuables came to being lost, he might think they were not safe where they are. He might be tempted to have them removed to his own palace where he could keep a closer eye on them, especially with his own coffers being somewhat empty at this time. And we don’t want to put temptation in the good Bishop’s way, do we? Better not to tell him, I think.”
I felt as if I had been pressed under heavy stones and just when all the breath was crushed out of me someone had lifted the weight from my chest. My head was spinning, but whether from abject relief or the effects of the wine, I could not tell. The danger was over, and it had been so easy, so simple.
Phillip waved his empty goblet at me. “And try to pour the wine in the cup this time.”
The flagon was empty. I went to the cupboard for another. It was the last one I had. I’d been keeping it for the Mass, for I had no money to buy more, but I no longer cared. All I could think about was that I had got the silver back and the Commissarius would never find out what I’d done. I filled Phillip’s goblet to the brim.
He took a long draught before setting the goblet down. “I regret that I will have to ask you for your key to the chest, Father. It would not do to have you led into sin again.” He held out his hand.
“But you can’t!” I protested. “The chest is my responsibility.” How long would the silver remain in the chest, once Phillip had both keys?
Phillip frowned. “Now, Father, if you please.”
I knew I was in no position to refuse.
He tucked my key away in his leather pouch, patting the bag with some satisfaction. “Now there is just the small matter of the money you borrowed from the moneylender plus his interest, money you now owe to me. To which sum, of course, I will be adding a trifling amount for my trouble and expenses in tracking the man down. But I’m feeling generous, so shall we say payment in full by the Twelfth Night of Christmas?”
I felt as if he’d punched me in the stomach. I couldn’t breathe. How could I possibly have believed it was over?
Phillip swung his legs down from the wall, his eyes suddenly narrow and hard. “The question is, Father, with an empty church where are you going to get the money to pay me?”
“I… There… will soon be a relic in the church. It is presently in the house of women, but… but I have excommunicated them and warned them they will remain in peril of their souls until they deliver the relic to the church and make public penance for their sins. They cannot hold out for much longer. Once they realise they will be denied the sacraments at Christmas, they will surrender the relic to me. They will have no choice. And when they do, the villagers will return to the church, knowing that it will protect them. And,” I added desperately, “once word spreads, pilgrims will crowd to the church, which will mean money not only for St. Michael’s, but for the Manor too. Pilgrims will need food, ale, places to sleep, new shoes, candles, all manner of things. A man with your nose for opportunity could make a fortune.”
“You are going to have the pilgrims flocking in by Twelfth Night, are you?” Phillip taunted. “You haven’t even laid your hands on the relic yet. From what I hear your edict of excommunication is having as little effect on the house of women as it is on the rest of Ulewic. The villagers are still creeping to the women’s gate for charity and they are still taking their sick there. The women are laughing at you, Father. You have fired your last arrow and still your enemy is advancing. What have you got left to fight with?”
He leaned back again in the chair. “Of course, if that bitch who leads the women met with an unfortunate accident, you’d have no trouble getting the others to hand over the relic.” He took a swig of wine. “It seems we are on the same side after all, Father. You want the relic and the Owl Masters want those foreign shrews gone. And if you were to help us, Father, I might be persuaded to wait for my money. I’m sure we could work out regular monthly payments from what monies and gifts the relic brings to St. Michael’s.”
“Me help the Owl Masters? Do you think I have forgotten that you defiled my church and desecrated the grave of a Christian child laid to rest in holy ground? After what you did, do you really think I would ask you for help?”
“What the Aodh did, Father. I’ve told you before: I am but his trusted servant.”
“Oliver’s poor mother is beside herself with grief. You might at least have the decency to return what is left of the child to her, so that she can bury her son again.”
Phillip picked at a fleck of mud on his sleeve. “The whore brought it on herself. The Owl Masters warned her to pay up and she defied them. It has been a salutary lesson for the rest of the villagers. And it should be a lesson to you too, Father. I suggest you seriously consider what the Aodh might order the Owl Masters to do to you, when he learns that you are refusing to pay your debts.”
“Do you think I can be threatened as easily as your ignorant villagers?” I slammed my fist against the table. “Your uncle may be able to order the murder of a serf without anyone outside the village asking questions, but I am a priest. Harm me and the Church will see you hanged and burning in the fires of Hell. I may not like the Commissarius spying on me, but as long as he is watching me, you and your Owl Masters can do nothing. As for repaying you by Twelfth Night, you said yourself you daren’t tell the Bishop about the silver, so why should I give you any money at all, when there is nothing you can do about it if I don’t?”