The Abbot's Agreement: 7 (The Chronicles of Hugh De Singleton, Surgeon) Read online

  The Unquiet Bones

  A Corpse at St Andrew’s Chapel

  A Trail of Ink

  Unhallowed Ground

  The Tainted Coin

  Rest Not in Peace

  The Abbot’s Agreement

  Text copyright © 2014 Mel Starr

  This edition copyright © 2014 Lion Hudson

  The right of Mel Starr to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Lion Fiction

  an imprint of

  Lion Hudson plc

  Wilkinson House, Jordan Hill Road,

  Oxford OX2 8DR, England

  www.lionhudson.com/fiction

  ISBN 978 1 78264 109 4

  e-ISBN 978 1 78264 110 0

  First edition 2014

  Acknowledgments

  Scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Hodder & Stoughton, a member of the Hodder Headline Group. All rights reserved. ‘NIV’ is a trademark of International Bible Society. UK trademark number 1448790.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Cover image: iStock

  For the reverends R. C. Morrell, Henry Steel, G. H. Bonney, Don Bastian, William Cryderman, Dean Parrott, Dwight Knasel, Ralph Cleveland, Michael Hambley, Bruce Rhodes, and Craig Watson.

  “Respect those who work hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work.”

  1 Thessalonians 5:12–13

  In the summer of 1990 my wife Susan and I discovered a lovely B&B in the village of Mavesyn Ridware. The proprietors, Tony and Lis Page, became friends. We visited them again in 2001, after they had moved to Bampton. I saw then that the village would be an ideal setting for the tales I wished to write. Tony and Lis have been a wonderful resource for the history of Bampton. I owe them much.

  When Dan Runyon, Professor of English at Spring Arbor University, learned that I had written The Unquiet Bones, he invited me to speak to a fiction-writing class about the trials of a rookie writer. Dan sent some chapters to his friend Tony Collins. Thanks, Dan.

  And many thanks to Tony Collins and the fine people at Lion Hudson for their willingness to publish an untried author. Thanks especially to my editor, Jan Greenough, who excels at asking questions like, “Do you really want to say it that way?” and “Wouldn’t Master Hugh do it this way?”

  Ms. Malgorzata Deron, of Poznan, Poland, has offered to maintain my website. She has done a wonderful job. To see the results of her work visit www.melstarr.net

  Abbot: the leader of an abbey, generally elected by monks of his abbey with the approval of the bishop of the diocese.

  Angelus Bell: rung three times each day; dawn, noon, and dusk. Announced the time for the Angelus devotional.

  Ascension Day: forty days after Easter. In 1368, May 26.

  Balloc broth: a spiced broth, used most often to prepare eels or pike.

  Banns: a formal announcement, made in the parish church for three consecutive Sundays, of intent to marry.

  Beadle: a manor official in charge of fences, hedges, enclosures, and curfew. Also called a hayward.

  Calefactory: the warming room in a monastery. Benedictines allowed the fire to be lit on November 1. The more rigorous Cistercians had no calefactory.

  Candlemas: February 2. Marked the purification of Mary. Women traditionally paraded to the church carrying lighted candles. Tillage of fields resumed this day.

  Castile (soap): a mild soap imported from Spain.

  Chapter: the monks of an abbey met each morning. During the meeting a chapter of the Rule of St. Benedict was read. Therefore the place of meeting was the chapter house, and the assembled monks were the “chapter.”

  Chauces: tight-fitting trousers, often of different colors for each leg.

  Choir: the east end of the abbey church where monks’ stalls were located. Here they gathered to celebrate the canonical hours and daily mass.

  Compline: the seventh and last of the daytime canonical hours, observed at sunset.

  Coney: rabbit.

  Corpus Christi: the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. In 1369, June 15.

  Cotehardie: the primary medieval outer garment. Women’s were floor-length, men’s ranged from thigh-length to ankle-length.

  Cotter: a poor villager, usually holding five acres or less. He often had to work for wealthy villagers to make ends meet.

  Cresset: a bowl of oil with a floating wick used for lighting.

  Daub: a clay and plaster mix, reinforced with straw and/or horse hair.

  Demesne: land directly exploited by a lord, and worked by his villeins, as opposed to land a lord might rent to tenants.

  Dexter: a war horse, larger than pack horses and palfreys. Also, the right-hand direction.

  Dower: the groom’s financial contribution to marriage, designated for the bride’s support during marriage and possible widowhood.

  Dowry: a gift from the bride’s family to the groom, intended for her support during marriage and widowhood, should her husband predecease her.

  Explorator: a monastic official whose duty was to ensure that an abbey or priory was secure for the night. Also called an a roundsman.

  Farthing: one fourth of a penny. The smallest silver coin.

  Franklin: a medieval English landowner of free but not noble birth.

  Gloucester College: the main Benedictine house in medieval Oxford University, now Worcester College.

  Groom: a lower-rank servant to a lord, ranked between page and valet.

  Guest-master: the monastic official in charge of providing for abbey guests.

  Habit: a monk’s robe and cowl.

  Hallmote: the manorial court. Royal courts judged free tenants accused of felonies; otherwise manorial courts had jurisdiction over legal matters concerning villagers. Villeins accused of homicide might also be tried in a manorial court.

  Hayward: also called a beadle, he served under the reeve. Usually a half-yardlander or a mid-level villager.

  Horn dancers: men wearing deer antlers who danced in the town marketplace at Michaelmas. Probably derived from an ancient pagan hunting custom.

  Infirmarer: the monastic official in charge of the abbey infirmary and the health of the monks.

  King’s Eyre: a royal circuit court, presided over by a traveling judge.

  Kirtle: the basic medieval undershirt.

  Kitchener: the monastic official who was in charge of preparing abbey meals.

  Lammastide: August 1, when thanks was given for a successful wheat harvest. From Old English “Loaf Mass.”

  Lauds: the first canonical service of the day, celebrated at dawn.

  Lay brother: not a monk, yet he had taken vows and was considered a member of the community. Chiefly responsible for agricultural and industrial work to ensure the self-sufficiency of the house.

  Liripipe: a fashionably long tail attached to a man’s cap.

  Madder: a plant the roots of which were used to make a red dye.

  Martinmas: November 11; the traditional date to slaughter animals for winter food.

  Maslin: bread made with a mixture o
f grains, commonly wheat and rye or barley.

  Michaelmas: September 29. This feast signaled the end of the harvest. The last rents and tithes for the year were then due.

  Midsummer’s Eve: June 23/24.

  Misericord: the Rule of St. Benedict prohibited eating flesh, except for monks who were ill. In 1336 Pope Benedict XII permitted Benedictines to eat meat four days each week so long as it was not served in the refectory or during a fast season. A special place called the misericord was the site of these carnivorous meals.

  Muntelate: lamb stewed with onions, egg yolks, lemon juice, and spices.

  Nones: the fifth canonical office, celebrated at the ninth hour of the day (about 3 p.m.).

  Obedience: a monastic office. The Precentor, the sacrist, the almoner, the infirmarer, and the kitchener were among the obedientiaries holding an obedience.

  Page: a young male servant, often one learning the arts of chivalry before becoming a squire.

  Palfrey: a gentle horse with a comfortable gait.

  Pannaging: allowing pigs to forage in a forest upon payment of a fee to the lord.

  Parapet: the upper level of a castle wall.

  Pottage: anything cooked in one pot, from soups and stews to simple porridge.

  Precentor: the monastic official who directed the church services.

  Prime: the second office of a monk’s day, an hour or so after lauds.

  Prior: the second in authority in an abbey; the leader of a priory.

  Reeve: the most important manorial official, although he did not outrank the bailiff. Elected by tenants from among themselves, often the best husbandman. He had responsibility for fields, buildings, and enforcing labor service.

  Refectory: the monastery dining hall.

  Reivers: Scottish raiders who often pillaged the northern counties of England.

  Reredorter: the monastery toilets.

  Retrochoir: the area immediately behind the monks’ choir, occupied by the sick and infirm, and also often by novices.

  Sackbut: an early form of trombone used in Renaissance music.

  Sacrist: the monastic official responsible for the upkeep of the church and the vestments, and also time-keeping.

  St. Catherine’s Day: November 25. St. Catherine was the most popular female saint of medieval Europe. Processions were held on her feast day.

  St. John’s Day: June 24.

  St. Stephen’s Day: December 26.

  Salver: a tray for serving food or beverages.

  Scriptorium: the copying room in a monastery.

  Sext: the fourth of the canonical hours, celebrated at midday.

  Shilling: twelve pence. Twenty shillings made one pound, but there was no one-pound coin in the fourteenth century.

  Tenant: a free peasant who rented land from his lord. He could pay his rent in labor service or, more likely by the fourteenth century, in cash.

  Terce: the third canonical office of the day, celebrated about 9 a.m.

  Toft: the land surrounding a house, often used for growing vegetables.

  Trebuchet: a medieval military machine which could hurl rocks with great force.

  Twelfth Night: the evening of January 5, preceding Epiphany.

  Venial sin: a sin which is relatively slight or committed without full reflection and so does not deprive the soul of saving grace.

  Vespers: the sixth canonical office, celebrated at the approach of dusk.

  Vigils: the night office, celebrated at midnight. When it was completed, Benedictines went back to bed, but Cistercians and Carthusians stayed up to begin the new day.

  Villein: a non-free peasant. He could not leave his land or service to his lord, or sell animals without permission. But if he could escape his manor for a year and a day he would be free.

  Whitsuntide: “White Sunday.” Pentecost, seven weeks after Easter Sunday.

  Yardland: thirty acres. Also called a virgate or, in northern England, an oxgang.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Afterword

  My life would have been more tranquil in the days after Martinmas had I not seen the birds. But I am an inquisitive sort of man, and the noisy host caught my attention. It is said that curiosity killed the cat. It can prove hazardous for meddlesome bailiffs as well.

  I was on the road near Eynsham, on my way to Oxford. I did not travel muddy autumn roads for pleasure, although I thought some joy might follow, but to seek an addition to my library. In the autumn of 1368 I owned five books: Surgery, by Henri de Mondeville; Categories, by Aristotle; Sentences, by Peter Lombard; De Actibus Animae, by Master Wyclif; and a Gospel of St. John which I had copied myself from a rented manuscript while a student at Baliol College.

  I sought a Bible, if I could find a fair copy for no more than thirty shillings. Such a volume at that price would not be lavishly illuminated, but I cared more for the words upon the page than some monk’s artistry. If no such Bible was to be had, I would be content with a New Testament, or even a folio of St. Paul’s letters.

  When I told my Kate of my intentions she demanded that Arthur accompany me to Oxford. A man traveling alone with thirty shillings in his purse would invite brigands to interrupt his journey, did they know or guess what he carried. Or even if they did not. Arthur is a groom in the service of Lord Gilbert Talbot. A sturdy man, he would make two of me, and has proven useful in past dealings with miscreants. He does not turn away from a tussle, and who would if they generally dispatch any foe? A felon who sought my coins would reconsider if he saw Arthur start for him with a cudgel in hand.

  I am Hugh de Singleton, surgeon and bailiff to Lord Gilbert Talbot on his manor at Bampton. I am the husband of Katherine, and father of Bessie, now nearly two years old, and, the Lord Christ merciful, will be father to a son, perhaps, shortly after Twelfth Night. Kate is well, so I have hope she will be delivered of our second child safely. Her father, Robert Caxton, is a stationer in Oxford, and ’twas to his shop I intended to go first. That was before I saw the birds.

  The road had passed through a wood, then entered fields cultivated by tenants of Eynsham Abbey. No men were at work this day, or not where they could be seen. But within barns and kitchens men and women were at bloody labor, for Arthur and I traveled on Monday, the thirteenth day of November, the time when men slaughter those animals they will be unable to feed through the winter, so that the beasts will rather feed them.

  A pair of crows, chattering magpies, and a flock of rooks perched in the bare branches of a large oak, cawing and occasionally flapping from their places to circle down to the ground near the base of the tree. As some birds left the tree, others rose from the earth to alight in the naked branches. This oak was at the very edge of a fallow field where a flock of the abbey’s sheep grazed, unconcerned about the raucous chorus above them. Sheep are not much concerned with anything, being dull creatures.

  I reined my palfrey to a stop and gazed at the noisy birds some hundred and more paces distant. Arthur, who had been speaking of the return of plague and his own loss, fell silent and turned in his saddle to follow my gaze.

  The man did not remain mute for long. “Birds,” he said. “Somethin’ dead, I’d guess.”

  I thought the same, and said so. “Whatever it is,” I added, “must be large. A dead coney would not attract so many.”

  “Pig, maybe?” Arthur said. “Swineherds been settin’ their hogs to pannaging to fatten ’em up.”

  “Could be, but would a pig-man not seek a lost hog before birds co
uld find it?”

  Arthur shrugged. I dismounted and led my beast to a convenient hawthorn which grew beside the road and proclaimed its presence with many red berries. I tied the palfrey there and set off across the fallow field toward the birds. Arthur followed.

  An old ewe raised her head, watched my approach suspiciously, then snorted and trotted away. The flock briefly hesitated, then followed.

  Whatever it was that the birds had found lay in the dappled shadow of the bare limbs of the oak, so I was nearly upon the thing before I recognized what the birds were feasting upon. And the corpse wore black, which aided the shadowy concealment.

  I was but a few paces from the body when the last of the birds, perhaps more courageous than his companions, lifted his wings and flapped to safety in the branches above.

  A man lay sprawled upon the fallen leaves, dressed in the black habit of a Benedictine. Whether he was old or young I could not tell, for the birds had peeled the flesh from his face nearly to the skull, after plucking out his eyes, which they love most of all. The monk’s nose and lips and cheeks were gone, and he grinned up at us while the birds protested our arrival from the limbs above us.

  “Holy mother of God,” Arthur said, and crossed himself. “What has happened here?”

  I spoke no answer, for I did not know. All that was sure was that a monk, likely of Eynsham Abbey, had died half a mile from his monastery and his corpse had gone undiscovered by all but birds.

  The abbey must be informed of this, of course. I told Arthur to return to the road and his horse and hurry to the abbey. There he must tell the porter of our discovery and ask that the abbot or prior come to the place with all haste. I would remain with the dead monk, to keep the birds away, and to learn what I could of his demise.

  The monk was not old. He wore no cowl, and I saw no grey hairs upon his scalp. He was not tonsured. Here was no monk, but a novice.