When, looking up, he saw the Bailiff, he picked up his long leather hose to coil it and called out a cheery greeting. ‘Godspeed, my friend. And how are you this perfect morning?’
‘I am well, I thank you,’ Simon returned, but it was hard to speak with his teeth clenched.
Mark glanced after the Abbot. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s a good man, even if he can be a little acerbic at times. We’ve all caught the lash of his tongue on occasion.’
‘It’s not that. I just…’ Simon wished that Baldwin or his wife were here. It was impossible to talk to a monk. As the Abbot himself had said, the Brothers were incorrigible gossips.
‘Come into my chamber, Bailiff. I have some wine that will ease your soul. Come!’
Simon followed him to a pleasant room near the Water Gate which was filled with the odours of his trade: spices and smoked, curing meats.
‘A good location, eh? Views all over the court from here, so I can keep my eyes on whoever may come into the Abbey, and if they look dangerous – why phit! I can be out of the Water Gate like a scalded cat! Hah! We got one last week, too. Some damned mange-ridden beast that kept getting into the garden and shitting in the beds. It’s ruined the carrots. We have had the seedlings springing up all over, instead of in our usual careful rows, because this cat kept digging and scattering all our seed. Always looked for the softest soil where the choicest crops had been placed. Anyway, we caught it last week, trapped it in a box, and then tipped boiling water over it as we let it go. You should have seen the thing run!’
Simon sat at the monk’s bidding and took a cup of wine from him. ‘Thanks.’
‘My pleasure.’ Mark already had a massive goblet filled, and Simon noticed his hand shaking as he picked it up. Mark enjoyed his drinks too much, he thought.
Simon said, ‘I much prefer dogs. They are at least loyal. You know where you stand with a dog.’
‘Absolutely. Cats can be useful for removing vermin, but most of the time people don’t make them pay their way. They just leave the beasts to roam, and feed them with choice cuts of meat. Madness. All it means is, the blasted things come to my garden and ruin it.’
He sat nearby, on a stool that gave him an uninterrupted view of the great gate. ‘No matter. I would wager that I need not worry myself about that cat. I think it will have learned its lesson. You see? This place is calming. You sit here, and all your fears flee. It is a sanctuary. Safe from all worries: sexual, social and financial. Here, only your personal service to Christ and God matter.’ Taking a great swallow of his drink, Mark cocked a bright, gleaming eye at the Bailiff. ‘So, was it the thefts he asked you about?’
Simon coughed. ‘Is it common knowledge?’
‘Oh, Bailiff, of course it is! We have no possessions here, no money, so our only currencies are food, drink, and gossip. What else could we have? And when my good friend Augerus learns something, he naturally shares it with me because I have the same lust for gossip, but I also have the job of looking after food and drink. With whom else would Augerus wish to come and discuss the thefts, if not with me?’
‘You keep saying “thefts”, not “theft”. I have only been told of the stolen wine. Has anything else been taken from the Abbot’s stores?’
‘Aha!’ Mark shot him a look. ‘Maybe I should hold my tongue.’
‘Why? If there have been other wine barrels emptied…’
Mark chuckled. ‘Bailiff, if the Abbot had other personal items of his own stolen, don’t you think he would have sought help before now?’
Simon mused over that. He did not believe the Abbot to be so self-centred as to ignore other thefts and only seek the thief when he was himself the victim; but then Simon considered the boldness of one who dared break into the Abbot’s storeroom. Maybe Abbot Robert thought that a man so fearless was more of a threat than a mere petty thief?
‘What other things were taken?’
‘Oh,’ Mark smiled, ‘I think you should ask the Abbot himself about that. It’s nothing to do with me. All I know is gossip.’
Simon drank some more of the excellent wine. ‘Perhaps you could tell me then who you think might have been responsible?’
Mark cocked his head. ‘I probably could, but that would mean breaking one of the cardinal rules of gossiping, wouldn’t it? I’d never hear another word from anyone, would I? No, I think you should seek your thief all alone.’
‘At least tell me this: did you hear anything after dark any night in the last week or two?’
‘Well, there are always odd noises. That blasted cat, rats, wood settling, men wandering to find the privy… But I can say this, I have heard nothing out of the ordinary.’
Simon looked into his wine. ‘If someone had been stealing from the Abbey, what…?’
Mark hastily crossed himself. ‘Stealing from here, Bailiff? God forbid that such could be done! Holy Mother Church should be safe from the depredations of felons.’
‘Yet it is a fact that outlaws will often rob churches. There are rich metals and fabrics inside. Could someone have done so here?’
‘No,’ Mark said with emphasis. ‘I would have heard if someone stole from the Abbey itself, and I have heard nothing of the sort. And I assure you of this, Bailiff,’ he added, jabbing a finger towards Simon’s chest. There was no mistaking his seriousness. Simon noticed with amusement that even the shaking had disappeared: rage had overwhelmed his alcoholic tremor. ‘If I heard of someone doing such a thing, taking candles or plates or cloths from the church, I would denounce the thief immediately. Immediately!’
‘As a religious man should,’ Simon noted. ‘Yet you are aware of something.’
‘True,’ Mark said heavily, and slumped in his seat before looking up roguishly. ‘But that’s not to do with stealing from the Abbey itself. It is the taking of unnecessary wealth. Jesus taught us that God’s bounty means all should have enough, didn’t He, and that men should give up whatever they don’t need for the good of the less fortunate. Perhaps this is a case of that nature!’
Simon sipped his drink. Mark was the sort of man who would hoard a secret to his bosom like a diamond, because in this environment the only currency was knowledge. However, Simon had the impression that he was sincere in his religious protestations. There were stories of men who robbed from the wealthy in order to support the poor. Could someone in the Abbey be behaving in that way?
Ah, well. It was nothing to do with him. The Abbot had told him to leave the matter alone.
As he thought this, he saw Mark watching him. There was a brightness in his eyes which spoke of more intelligence than Simon would have guessed at from his conversation.
Simon considered. ‘So you think that someone taking money from another, so long as it was put to good use, would be justified?’
Mark set his head on one side. ‘Perhaps. Provided that nobody was hurt. And that the stealer did not take it for personal advantage.’
‘You are toying with words now. Surely if someone takes something, that is theft and there can be no excuse. A felon is a felon.’
‘There are some crimes which are worse than simply attempting to enrich oneself, Bailiff,’ Mark said sternly. He slurped at his wine. ‘The man who actively does harm to Holy Mother Church is himself lost. There are some… But there! One has to point out the error of people’s ways, and hope that thereby one can save their souls.’