The Butcher of Avignon Read Online Free Page A

the management of base, worldly affairs. This necessary wealth is such that vile men, driven by cupidity, are attracted to it, are drawn to it, are tempted to break into the holy place and to steal from it for their own devilish designs.’ He waited until this news had sunk in.
    Clement gave an odd kind of smile as he held the last morsel of the outrage under his control. And then he let them know it. ‘So was the thief discovered this day in our treasury and I may tell you, friends, so he received his just reward. Blessed be the humble. God go with you. Amen.’
    Almost before anyone could respond to his astonishing words he exited on the arms of his acolytes. The door closed with finality behind him. The guards stared at nothing, blank as wooden effigies.
    At once a confused whisper of speculation broke out. Who had dared? What did his just reward mean? How much did he get away with? What treasure?
    The monk beside Hildegard cried out, ‘God preserve us. Such brazenness. Here, in the palace of our blessed pope.’ He turned to Hildegard, ‘Did you ever hear of such a thing, sister? What is the world coming to?’
    ‘We live in troubled times, brother.’
    ‘The enemy is verily within the gates. The end days are nigh!’
    ‘How could anyone penetrate the secret treasury? There are guards everywhere. How is it possible?’ she asked.
    ‘With the help of the devil and his minions, surely. How else?’ The monk shook his head in mystification. Someone touched him on the sleeve and he bent his head to listen.
    Everyone was leaving now. Litigants, lawmen, scribes, clerks. All those with a petition to present. Thwarted now. Pouring out through the great doors, pages jostling to force a pathway for their masters, sharp elbows being used to effect. Soon, flooding into the Great Tinel, the refectory, their voices rose from a murmur to an excited rumble as soon as they were able. Those who were vowed to silence looked with chagrin at their companions. One or two risked penitential punishment by speaking aloud their astonishment. Questions were asked about the treasury, about what was meant by the thief’s just reward. The devil was mentioned with prayers to assorted saints for belated protection. St Martial, the palace’s patronal saint, was called upon.
    Hildegard allowed herself to be drifted into the Tinel with everyone else until she found an empty place at the long table reserved for nuns, lay sisters, and female guests. A storm of gossip soon took over making one or two high up in the chain of authority look down their noses at the avid interest others were showing in such material affairs. One of them, an abbess by the look of it, chose to make a comment.
    ‘We cannot know anything at this stage, dear sisters. We must leave it for his holiness to scry forth the identity of this thief. Eschew gossip, I beg you. The thief is apprehended. There let the matter rest.’
    ‘And his just reward?’ murmured Hildegard. ‘What do you imagine that can be?’
    ‘Our Holy Father decides how sinners shall be rewarded,’ the nun replied with complaisant finality.
    Preserve me. Hildegard bent her head, hiding her contempt as best she could and as soon as her morsel of bread was eaten and the watered wine was swallowed, she got up and made her way to the guest hall.
    **
    It was no different here. The buzz of excitement where townspeople, secular petitioners as well as clergy mixed was feverish. Rumours flew. One thing everyone seemed agreed on. By just reward, Clement meant one thing: death.
    ‘Blood everywhere,’ opined a merchant who could not have had first-hand knowledge of such a thing unless he’d been present and wished to incriminate himself. Nobody pulled him up. Everyone could predict death from Clement’s words and with death came blood. Lots of it.
    ‘They say an angel struck the thief down at the very moment he touched one of the blessed gold crucifixes his holiness keeps in there,’ said another.
    ‘I heard