The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

stopped with a sigh and set down his bag. “No, Yusef. I’m going to see if Gavi will take me in while I’m in Toulouse.”
    “Gavi!” Yusef said in shock. “But he’s a tanner! Why would you want to stay there?”
    Solomon put his hand on Yusef’s shoulder. “Because Gavi has no daughters. He doesn’t try to make me a better Jew or even a better man. His wife makes good beer and they have an empty bed they’re always happy to rent.”
    “But the smell!” Yusef made a face.
    “They’ve never complained about mine,” Solomon said. “So I can tolerate theirs.”
    He picked up the bag and continued on his way, leaving Yusef standing in the road, shaking his head in stupefaction.
     
     
    The bells of Saint Sernin, Le Taur, Sainte Marie la Daurade, and Saint Pierre des Cuisines were tolling the start of Vespers in the Bourg of Toulouse when another barge docked slightly farther up the river. The men aboard were all clean-shaven and tonsured. They wore sandals and the dark robes of monks of the Cluniac order. They came ashore and headed directly to the priory of Saint Pierre des Cuisines, chanting the office as they walked. Before them people stepped aside, moving hand carts, piles of refuse and small children out of their path. The prior gave the citizens his blessing as he went by.
    In the midst of the group was a monk whose cowl was pulled forward so that his face was partly hidden. He looked at the ground as he processed through the town. His demeanor was of a man whose whole mind was occupied with the contemplation of heaven.
    Yusef and Bonysach stopped to let the monks pass. As he watched them, Bonysach gave a start. He blinked and looked again. Once the street was clear, he grabbed Yusef by the arm.
    “Do you know who that was?” he asked. “The older man with the stoop walking in the center?”
    “No, I wasn’t looking at them,” Yusef answered. Then he realized. “You don’t mean him? Why would he be here? Do you think it means a new persecution? Could he have convinced those monks of his to follow us from Moissac and force us to convert?”
    “I don’t see how.” Bonysach bit his lip. “Or why a whole troop of them would need to leave the monastery just to thwart us. It’s probably just a coincidence.”
    “Perhaps, but I don’t like it,” Yusef said. “We should tell this to the elders.”
    “I think you’re right,” Bonysach said slowly. “They can decide what to do about it and whether Solomon should be told.”
    “One thing I am certain of,” Yusef said with feeling. “I don’t want to be anywhere nearby when he finds out.”
     
     
    The next morning, as Solomon shared bread and sausage with Gavi and his wife, Nazara, there was a knock at the door.
    “Who could that be?” Gavi said as he rose to answer it. “I know it’s too early for the tax collectors to show up and all my customers meet me at the market.”
    He opened the door. In front of him stood a thin old man, his full white beard tinged with remnants of the dark hair of his youth. He wore a wool cap and clothes of good linen stained with food and candle drippings.
    “Welcome, Rav Chaim!” Gavi said in surprise. “You honor my home. Please come in.”
    Solomon stood, wondering why a respected teacher would visit a lowly tanner, especially so early. The sunlight was behind the visitor so Solomon could only see his form. Somehow, the man seemed familiar. He looked closer as the visitor entered and the light fell on his face.
    “Enondu!” he exclaimed. “Uncle Hubert, is that you? I thought you wouldn’t be in Toulouse for another week.”
    The man grinned as he hugged Solomon. “I couldn’t wait for news of my daughter,” he said. “Where is Edgar?”
    “He went back to check on that same daughter,” Solomon answered. “I’ve never seen such a uxorious man in my life.”
    “Catherine is well, though?” Hubert asked worriedly. “James and Edana aren’t ill?”
    “They were fine when we left,”