The Raven in the Foregate by Ellis Peters Read Free Book Online Page A

began Erwald earnestly, “we are come
to you thus because we are not altogether easy at the rule of our new priest.
Father Ailnoth has his duties in the church, and performs them faithfully, and
there we have no complaint of him. But where he moves among us in the parish we
are not happy with his dealings. He has called into question whether Aelgar,
who works for him, is villein or free, and has not asked of us, who know very
well he is a free man. He has also caused Aelgar to plough up a part of the
headland of his neighbour Eadwin, without Eadwin’s knowledge or leave. He has
accused Master Jordan, here, of giving short weight, while all of us here know
that is false. Jordan is known for good bread and good measure.”
    “That is truth,” said Jordan emphatically. “I rent my
bakery ovens from the abbey, it is on your land I work, you have known me for
years, that I take pride in my bread.”
    “You have that right,” agreed Radulfus, “it is good
bread. Go on, Master Provost, there is more to tell.”
    “My lord, there is,” said Erwald, very gravely now.
“You may have heard with what strict dealing Father Ailnoth keeps his school.
The same severity he uses towards the boys of the parish, wherever he sees them
gathered, if they put a foot aside—and you know that the young are liable to
folly. He is too free with his blows, he has done violence where it was not
called for, not by our measure. The children are afraid of him. That is not
good, though not everyone has patience with children. But the women are
frightened, too. He preaches such dire things, they are afraid of hell.”
    “There is no need to fear,” said the abbot, “unless by
reason of a consciousness of sin. I do not think we have here in the parish
such great sinners.”
    “No, my lord, but women are tender and easily
frightened. They look within for sins they may have committed, unknowing. They
are no longer sure what is sin and what is not, so they dare not breathe
without wondering if they do wrong. But there is more still.”
    “I am listening,” said the abbot.
    “My lord, there’s a decent poor man of this parish,
Centwin, whose wife Elen bore a very weakly child, a boy, four days ago. It was
about Sext when the baby was born, and it was so small and feeble, they were
sure it must die, and Centwin ran quickly to the priest’s house, and begged him
to come and baptise the boy before he died, that his soul might be saved. And
Father Ailnoth sent out word that he was at his devotions, and could not come
until he had completed the office. Centwin begged him, but he would not
interrupt his prayers. And when he did go, Father, the baby was dead.”
    The small, chill silence seemed to bring down a
looming darkness on the panelled room.
    “Father, he would not give the child Christian burial,
because it was not baptised. He said it could not come within the hallowed
ground, though he would say what prayers he could at its burial—which was in a
grave outside the pale. The place I can show.”
    Abbot Radulfus said with infinite heaviness: “He was
within his rights.”
    “His rights! What of the child’s rights? It might have
been christen soul if he had come when he was called for.”
    “He was within his rights,” said Radulfus again,
inexorably but with deep detestation. “The office is sacrosanct.”
    “So is the newborn soul,” said Erwald, remorselessly
eloquent.
    “You say well. And God hears us both. There can and
shall be dispensation. If you have more to tell, go on, tell me all.”
    “My lord, there was a girl of this parish—Eluned—very
beautiful. Not like other girls, wild as a hare. Everyone knew her. God knows
she never harmed a soul but herself, the creature! My lord, she could not say
no to men. Time and again she went with this one or that, but always she came back,
as wild returning as going, in tears, and made her confession, and swore
amendment. And meant it!