Trouble in the Forest Book One: A Cold Summer Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

Franciscans Grey Friars, the Order of the Blessed Mary Pied Friars, the Victorines Blue Friars. The abbot who met deSteny and his men at the chapel door to Chefford tossed back his white hood and regarded the armed men with disapproval.
    “And what,” he asked by way of opening when deSteny had dismounted and removed his helmet to show his peaceful intentions, “does the Sheriff of Nottingham want with me?”
    DeSteny did not rise to the challenge. He tucked his helmet under his arm and met the abbot’s stare levelly. “My warden tells me that you refused to bury a family he brought to you two days ago.”
    “That I did,” said the abbot with a sharp glance at Chilton. “Though why he should report it to you, I do not know.”
    “He reported it to me because he is sworn so to do, and well you do know it, Regis de Bonpont,” deSteny replied, using the abbot’s full name deliberately to remind the man of worldly obligations. “He is mindful of his duties, though it seems you are lax in them. He would have to tell me if outlaws had robbed a crofter, as well, or killed deer without the Prince’s warrant, or taken money from your chapel.”
    “The dead had no blood left in them,” said the abbot bluntly. “I am certain that they would contaminate consecrated ground.”
    “Though you have the task of burying the dead,” deSteny reminded him. “It is your service to God, in your Order.”
    “True enough. But what if they are not truly dead? It would be a sin to bury such as were not dead.” The abbot was pleased to see the distress in the faces of the men-at-arms.
    “It may trouble you,” said the Trinitarian, urging his mule up to the front of the line, “but if you will show me where the bodies are, I will try to lay them to rest.”
    The intense rivalry between monastic Orders flared as Carmelite and Trinitarian faced each other. At last the abbot indicated the smaller of the hamlet’s two gates, the one facing the stream that gave the place its name: Chefford meant goat-crossing. “They were put to lie there. If you want them guarded, you must do it yourself. If the bodies are still there and uneaten, you may attempt to put them in their graves, face down, Red Friar.”
    “Well enough,” said deSteny for them all. “How were the bodies left?”
    “With woven mats around them. We showed them that charity, little as they deserved it.” He held up his hand to bless deSteny’s men, but stopped before he could complete the gesture. “What will you do? We will not allow the bodies back inside the gates.”
    DeSteny did his best to contain his ire, though his frown was portentous. “No, you would not, would you?” He rocked back on his heels and considered what was best to do. “Very well, if we find enough to bury, we will put them beyond the walls, if that will satisfy you.”
    “Yes. It must,” said the Carmelite abbot.
    The Red Friar stared hard at the abbot of the White Friars. “You are supposed to do this work.”
    “For those who die in Grace, or through misadventure where Grace can be hoped for,” said the abbot sternly. “These were neither of those things. There was only damnation in their ends.”
    “Well,” said the Red Friar with a meaningful tap on his silver pyx. “God may see it otherwise.”
    The Carmelite shrugged and drew his hood up. “It is time for mid-day prayers,” he said, and without any further remark withdrew into his chapel.
    “What do you think?” asked deSteny as he remounted his sorrel mare. “Do you want to go through with this?”
    “I want to put the Devil to rest, if I can. I must do all I can,” said the Red Friar. “And I want these miserable corpses to be at peace in Christ. I will do whatever I must to bring those two things about.”
    “Very wise,” said deSteny as he saw Wroughton and his men cross themselves for protection. He had long since given up such petitions. “You lead the way to where you left the bodies,” he ordered Chilton.