“You will take Samuel’s wife into your own household, Isaac?” Nathan questioned.
Isaac nodded. “She cannot be left to fend for herself. Samuel was a poor provider, but he was all she had since her own family was slain at Stamford ten years ago.”
Both men sat in silence for a moment, remembering the relatives and friends they had lost when, on the occasion of King Richard’s coronation, anti-Jewish riots had broken out all over the kingdom of England and resulted in the loss of many Jewish lives, most notably at York.
“Even though one of our own was killed, I have no doubt that it will be determined that a Jew was responsible for the deaths of the three Christians found with Samuel.” Nathan spoke with great heat, his light brown eyes showing in the intensity of their gaze the depth of his anger.
“Be easy, Brother,” Isaac soothed him. “The castle is nearby, and Lady Nicolaa is our friend. She will give us shelter should there be an outcry against us.”
“That is only because the king values us for our gold, like a herd of cows to be milked. We are only allowed to trade in usury, yet it is because of that very trade that we have silver and gold that can be stolen, and that we are resented for our riches. Nicolaa de la Haye merely protects that which is precious to her king, no more. It is even rumoured that it was her own husband who led the raid on Stamford all those years ago. Camville will do little to protect us.”
“There will be no need, if we are circumspect.” Isaac leaned forward towards his brother. “Tell me again of the errand that Samuel was on when he was killed.”
Nathan shrugged. “As you know, I did not trust Samuel with any matter of importance. He was not of the greatest intelligence. Small tasks he could carry out, and did so for me. But in anything involving greater sums, he became uneasy and invariably offended the client, or miscalculated the figures. Yesterday, I sent him to the manor of Alan de Kyme…”
“Is he the de Kyme that is nephew to Philip?” Isaac interrupted.
“No, this is a cousin of the baron’s. They are a large brood, the de Kymes, and this is one from a lesser branch of the family. He and his wife have only a small manor house along with a few acres and a mill.”
Isaac thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I know him now. Go on…”
“De Kyme wanted to borrow a few pounds only. His mill is in need of repair, and he was to give Samuel his note of debt in return, promising to repay the debt, with interest, after harvest in the autumn. It was a simple enough task for Samuel to carry out. He left in the morning with the silver and the note for signing. That is the last I heard of him. I did not worry when he did not return last night, thinking that he may have travelled slowly in consideration of the heat of the day and not arrived home until late. It was not until this morning when I called at his house and his wife told me that he had not returned that I began to be concerned. But then, with Samuel, as I said, anything could have delayed him. His mule had thrown a shoe; he had fallen asleep under a tree. You know what he was like.”
Isaac nodded, and waited for his brother to continue. “But I was worried. There are many outlaws outside the walls of Lincoln and although Samuel had only a little money on him, those robbers will cut a man’s throat for half a penny, and I did not think the sheriff’s men would be overconscientious about reporting the death of a Jew. Then, just as I was calling for a groom to saddle a horse so I could go in search of him, one of the men-at-arms from the castle came to tell me that Samuel had been found dead in the alehouse.” Nathan shook his head. “What would he have been doing in an alehouse, in the company of Christians?” The thought of such an unlikely happening made him shake his head again in disbelief.
“And you found neither silver nor note of debt on his person?” Isaac asked.
“Apart from the clothes he was wearing, he had nothing on him, not even the purse that would have held the money. I could understand that there might have been an attempt to rob him, either going to de Kyme’s or returning, but then he would have been found somewhere on the road, not in a Lincoln taproom.”
“It is a mystery,” Isaac agreed. “But we must be careful what we tell anyone who comes to enquire into his death. First, a rider must be sent to see if he reached de Kyme’s.”
“I have already done that,” Nathan replied, then gave a wry grimace. “Of course, if de Kyme did receive the silver and now knows that Samuel is dead, and no trace of the debt on him, then he may deny that he ever saw Samuel, and keep the silver for his own, free of repayment and of interest.”
Isaac leaned back and smoothed the curls in his beard thoughtfully. “Samuel may have been seen along the road. We must make enquiries, but carefully, Nathan, very carefully. Of the most importance, even more than finding Samuel’s murderer, is that no blame be attached to any Jew. For the safety of our people it must be shown, without doubt, that Samuel was as much a victim as were the three Christians murdered along with him.”
Six
Bascot and Gianni arrived at the alehouse to find the guard that Ernulf had posted at the door still keeping to his duty. He nodded to Bascot as the Templar lifted the bar and went inside, Gianni close behind. They came first into the taproom which now, in the light and heat of the day streaming through the open shutters, had lost most of its smell of death and ale and stood empty, and somehow forlorn.
Bascot had told Gianni what they had found earlier that day on these premises and what he now hoped to discover. The boy, although mute, had sharp ears and even sharper eyes. It was as though his lack of speech had made his other senses more vibrant, a necessary aid to survival when he had been a wharf-urchin in Palermo. With his own sight diminished by the loss of his eye, Bascot had come to rely on the youngster’s quickness in taking in the details of his surroundings.
After first making a cursory search of the taproom, Bascot went into the passage that connected the front of the alehouse to the back. To one side were the stairs leading upward, in front the passage that went out into the brewing yard. First they climbed the steep stairway to the bedchamber above. Aside from one room which appeared to be used for sleeping, there was only a small cubbyhole with an old wooden pail and some sacks of dried herbs.
Bascot went into the bedchamber. First he examined the bed. There was nothing secreted either within the mattress or among the folds of the thin woollen blanket that served as a covering. Beside the bed was a sturdy wooden chest, well made but plain, with a candle and holder sitting atop its lid. Removing the candle Bascot looked inside the chest. He could hear Gianni behind him, searching with small fingers among the rushes in the corners of the room and under the bed. Inside the wooden coffer there were some clothes, obviously belonging to the alekeeper and his wife, but nothing else. Sprigs of dried lavender had been placed among the folds of the clothes and Bascot thought once again that the alewife was a woman who kept her premises remarkably clean. There were no vermin in the mattress on the bed, nor among the clothing in the chest.