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

came this morning because I was eager to see you, of course.” Hubert fiddled with his beard nervously. “But I also am the unwilling bearer of some upsetting news.”
    He took a deep breath.
    “Solomon, your father has been seen in Toulouse.”
     
     
    Solomon’s face shut. His gray eyes were like stone.
    “My father is dead,” he said evenly.
    Hubert bowed his head. “Solomon, you can’t ignore the truth. I know the pain he has caused you. Even when I was a Christian in name I was appalled at what he did to you and your mother.”
    “He killed her.” Solomon’s voice remained flat.
    Hubert sighed. “Yes, he did, as surely as if he’d put a knife in her heart.”
    Suddenly, Solomon exploded. “That’s exactly what he did, Uncle, and in my heart, too! And, if Edgar hadn’t defended me in Moissac six years ago, he’d have put a rope around my neck as well. In thirty years he has become more evil than when he left us. If you’ve come to warn me to avoid the thing he has become, you needn’t worry. I wouldn’t let myself be soiled by the touch of his shadow!”
    He turned away, staring at the currents in the river.
    Hubert gave him a moment to control his anger.
    “Solomon,” he said softly. “Remember that Jacob was also my brother. He still is.”
    Solomon turned his head sharply.
    “How can you say that after what he has done? Especially now that you have become such a ‘holy man’ and scholar?”
    He was shocked to see tears on Hubert’s cheeks.
    Hubert wiped them away with the back of his hand.
    “You and I know how far I am from being either,” he said miserably. “All I can do is strive. But in my study I have learned one thing. ‘Even though a man be a sinner, he is still Israel.’ Jacob will remain my brother no matter what.”
    “That’s nonsense, Uncle,” Solomon said. “Do you think you can redeem him? He is a black monk who spits on Israel. Kaddish was said for my father. Let him stay in his grave.”
    Hubert rubbed his forehead. “I would like to, believe me. I have no desire to debate him. Only the Holy One, blessed be he, can change Jacob’s heart. But, if that should happen, I am prepared to forgive him. Are you?”
    Solomon snorted. “No, Uncle, I’m not.”
    He started up the path to the Cité. “If that’s what you wanted of me,” he continued over his shoulder. “Then you’ve wasted your time. I’m grateful for the warning and will be sure to stay away from any taverns where monks are likely to congregate.”
    “Solomon.” Hubert’s voice followed him. “It may not be that simple.”
    Solomon continued up the path. Hubert hurried after him.
    “Jacob is here for a reason,” he insisted. “Easter is coming. The monks of Moissac have priories throughout Toulouse. I think they’re planning something.”
    Solomon covered his ears with his hands.
    Hubert tugged at his arm. “You can’t ignore this. All of Provence is in turmoil. There have been rumors for weeks that something dreadful is going to happen.”
    Solomon slowly lowered one hand. “Like a forced baptism?” he asked. “Accept Jesus or die?”
    “No one knows,” Hubert said. “But Jacob may be in Toulouse to try to confound our community in one way or another. Certainly, it would elevate him in the eyes of the other monks if he brought more of us to his faith. Jacob is a skillful speaker. He was the scholar of the family. He knows the Law as well as any of our teachers.”
    “So, the Edomites want to have another debate. That isn’t a reason for panic,” Solomon tried to reassure him. “They talk; we talk. They say they’ve won and everyone goes home. Along with throwing stones at us in the street, it’s just another part of their Easter rituals. Forgive me if I don’t attend. Although,” he added sadly. “As I recall, we usually aren’t give the chance to decline.”
    Hubert puffed as he followed Solomon up the path.
    “There’s more! Things are different this year,” he gasped.