The False Virgin by The Medieval Murderers Read Free Book Online Page A

been noted, and Cole had acquired an implacable enemy. Cole’s marriage meant he had a lot of in-laws who would fight if
he was dismissed without good cause, so John was busy looking for one, and a veritable flood of emissaries came to assess his accounts, watch the way he built his castle, and monitor his rule.
Gwenllian was determined they should not succeed, and had managed to send each one away empty-handed. So far.
    ‘Nicholas Avenel,’ replied Kediour. ‘The new Sheriff of Pembroke. He has an evil reputation, and is accused of despoiling churches and kidnapping wealthy burgesses for ransom.
His henchman William Fitzmartin comes with him.’
    ‘I do not know either.’
    ‘John’s creatures,’ said Kediour disapprovingly. ‘Here to find fault. They have not managed yet, but there are those in the town who aim to help them.’
    ‘Adam de Rupe,’ sighed Cole, knowing who he meant. ‘The mayor.’
    Kediour nodded. ‘You exposed him as corrupt, which means he will not be re-elected next month. And his servants Gunbald and Ernebald hate you for gaoling them last year.’
    ‘But they stole from the church,’ protested Cole. ‘They were caught red-handed.’
    ‘Yes, but all three think they were misused regardless. And then there are Miles de Cogan and Philip de Barri. I do not trust either, despite your kindness towards them.’
    ‘Miles is my deputy. He is not an enemy!’
    ‘He is jealous of what you have – namely Gwenllian. He is in love with her.’
    Cole gaped at him. ‘He is not!’
    ‘He is, and everyone knows it. However, Philip worries me more.’
    Cole made an impatient sound. ‘He is Gwen’s cousin – family. Besides, if I am ousted from Carmarthen, he will lose his post as chaplain.’
    ‘Just be careful,’ warned Kediour. ‘However, they and the raiders are not the only problem you need to solve. Come to the Market Square, and I shall show you
another.’
    Cole would rather have gone straight to Gwenllian and the children, but he dutifully followed the prior into the town centre. A crowd had gathered, and there was an atmosphere
of excited anticipation, all centred on two young men in Benedictine habits.
    ‘They claim they are taking a holy relic to Whitland Abbey,’ explained Kediour with obvious disapproval. ‘The hand of a saint named Beornwyn, no less. But they are Benedictines
and Whitland is Cistercian. Why would one Order bestow such a favour on another?’
    ‘I suppose it is odd,’ said Cole. ‘But hardly my business.’
    ‘Oh, yes, it is,’ said Kediour firmly. ‘They announced earlier that Beornwyn grants most prayers if her palm is crossed with silver, and several people plan to invest in a
boon. However, I have never heard of this saint, and I suspect they are charlatans.’
    ‘Damn!’ muttered Cole. He hated problems where religion was involved.
    ‘I shall look her up in my library this evening. However, even if she does transpire to be genuine, I do not see why scruffy lads like these should have been entrusted with her.’
    ‘I will speak to them tomorrow and suggest they leave.’ Cole glanced towards the castle and wished he was in it. Not only was he acutely uncomfortable standing in the sun in full
armour, but he objected to being kept from his family.
    ‘They have offered to end the drought for a shilling,’ said Kediour, scowling at both the monks and the crowd they had attracted. ‘Mayor Rupe thinks we should pay.’
    ‘Perhaps we should,’ said Cole, squinting up at the cloudless sky. ‘We are desperate for rain, and I am sure no Benedictine would cheat us.’
    Kediour regarded him askance. The constable had a reckless habit of taking people at their word, a facet of his character that often stunned the prior. ‘Do you really believe that everyone
who wears a habit is a good man?’
    Cole considered the question carefully, although it had been rhetorical. ‘Yes, generally. I may not like them, but God does or He would not have called