The Wandering Arm Read Online Free PDF Page A

away the very feel of the thing.
    He had thought it was a cup, stolen from some lord’s table. But there was no mistaking what the peasant had been carrying.
    It was a chalice.

Two

    The home of Baruch, silversmith of Saint-Denis, Friday, January 10,
1141/1, Shebat, Rosh Hodesh 4901

    Concessimus etiam ut Judei, qui ad presens sunt vel habendi sunt in burgo seu in castello sancti Dionysii, usque ad quinque, cum familiis suis liberi sint ab omni justicia nostra, et ab omni exactione nostra, tantum sub jure vel justicia sint abbatis.

    We have granted that the Jews who are at present living in
the village or the citadel of Saint-Denis, up to five
householders with their families, are to be free of all our
judgments and our taxes, and that they be placed under the
jurisdiction of the abbot.
    —Privilege of Louis VI granted in 1111 and renewed by his son,
Louis VII, in 1143

    “ G et rid of it!” Baruch stood across the room from the chalice. “I don’t want it in my house. How could you have brought such a thing here?”
    “I didn’t know it was in the bag,” Solomon said. “The man said it was food from the abbey.”
    “I won’t be dragged into the wickedness of the Christians,” Baruch insisted. “Let them traffic in their own idolatrous wares. Throw it in the midden, or even better, the river. I won’t have it near me.”
    “There are plenty of brethren who will,” Solomon retorted. “Are you telling me you never took their holy vessels as pledges?”
    “Never!” Baruch lifted his chin proudly. “I don’t care what Rabbi Solomon said. It’s trafficking in sacrificial wares. And I pity those who are driven by necessity or greed to do so. Such a thing can only bring a curse upon our house.”
    “Calm yourself, Baruch. You can give it to me,” Hubert interrupted. He had been awakened by Baruch’s cry of horror at seeing Solomon’s find and, hurrying downstairs, had been greeted by the sight of the two men standing across the room from the golden cup, glaring at it as if it were a griffin poised to strike at them.
    “I’ll take it to the prior,” Hubert continued, “and tell him that it was found near my son’s keep. I doubt it was stolen from the abbey. They guard their treasure too closely now for theft, but Hervé may know where it came from. He can deal with the problem of returning it. Is that acceptable to you, Solomon?”
    “Of course,” Solomon answered. “I don’t want it any more than Baruch.”
    Hubert rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t completely awake yet. His sleep had been heavy and full of dreams that he couldn’t remember but which upset him all the same. Something was amiss.
    “Solomon, what are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you were staying with Edgar last night.”
    “Your son convinced me I’d prefer staying with my own people,” Solomon answered. “Don’t worry. When I left, Catherine was already resting more comfortably. Edgar had spoken with her. He said she showed no signs of fever.”
    “That is a comfort,” Hubert answered. “I could not have borne to lose her.” He sighed and returned to the problem at hand. “It’s too early to go bothering the monks; they’ll all still be at their prayers. Give me some bread and cheese and a cup of ale to fortify me for the ordeal and then I’ll take this jeweled monstrosity off your hands.”
    He took it from the table and examined it carefully. Hubert had started out as a dealer in wine and spices, but during the years he had been supplying the abbot of Saint-Denis with these provisions he had also become more and more involved with Abbot Suger’s quest for precious jewels to glorify his abbey church or to sell to finance its rebuilding. Hubert had of necessity developed some knowledge of craftsmanship and quality.
    “However much you may abhor its use,” he commented to Solomon and Baruch as they brought in the bread and cheese, “one can’t help but admire the beauty of the work. See how each pearl and