‘The head translator is not always the librarian, and the librarian is not usually the head translator . . . you see, in most smaller monasteries it is usual for the master of music to look after the books and library, but as you see it is far too difficult in a larger one. So we have a librarian who looks after the day-today running of the scriptorium, but the library proper is the domain of the head translator. He and only he may enter its confines. You may find this strange, preceptor, but monks should not be allowed easy access to books, it distracts them from their work and meditation. Also, books are fragile and old and must be kept away from light and moisture, books that are handled constantly do not last. It is the acidic nature of sweat, so I am told, that causes deterioration. In any case, Abbot Bendipur was head translator, and when he became abbot, Brother Ezekiel. But Ezekiel was very old and his sight was weak, there was a need to find his replacement before now.’
‘So Brother Ezekiel was grooming Anselmo for the position?’
‘Who told you that, preceptor?’ he asked, amazed.
‘Brother Macabus mentioned that brother Ezekiel had taken Anselmo to the library on a few occasions. He did not seem too happy about it.’
‘And one can see why.’ He looked about him and moved closer. ‘Anselmo is very young. None so young has ever been given such a privilege . . . and yet, preceptor, we must remember our vow of obedience, an obedience that is prompt and unquestioning. We must not follow our will, neither must we obey our own desires and pleasures, but follow the commands and directions of the abbot and his obedientiaries. If Anselmo was the abbot’s choice, then Brother Macabus should have been happy that a fine translator could be found in the monastery and not procured elsewhere. In any case Brother Macabus is not a great translator, mediocre so I’m told, though I do not mean this in an unkind way. Anselmo was the better choice, but he proved too young and . . . petulant.’
‘So Brother Ezekiel changed his mind about him?’
‘Naturally, that is, when he went about boasting of the things he had seen in the library, what else could he do? It is also rumoured that Anselmo was not satisfied with the work that Brother Ezekiel was giving him, but that he wanted more, to see more, to do more . . . but this is monkish gossip.’
‘Has Anselmo expressed to you his anger at being rejected?’
‘To the contrary. He told me that it was a good lesson in humility and also in obedience.’
‘And what of the other novice, the young Jerome?’
Brother Sacar’s face darkened. ‘He has disappeared . . . some say he sneaked away in the middle of the night, all for the better I say. He was a strange one.’
‘How do you mean strange, brother?’
‘There was something unnatural about him . . . a feminine quality . . . but he was good in the medicinal arts. A natural healer, the infirmarian told me once, though he also mentioned that the boy was a little too . . . enthusiastic.’
‘Come now, brother, how can a physician be too enthusiastic?’
He lowered his voice to a whisper, ‘All I can say is that Brother Asa had admonished his desire to know too much too soon on more than one occasion. There are certain things one must learn gradually, preceptor, as one’s maturity dictates.’
‘Did he say what these things were?’
‘Not exactly, for I believe he did not know many things himself. Poor Brother Asa.’ He sighed. ‘In his master’s eyes he would always be a student. I do not believe Setubar would part with many of his secrets and this led to a rift between them. In any case, it was not his belief that a physician should interfere with nature . . .’
‘And Brother Asa was seeking to do so?’
‘Oh no!’ he cried aghast and his hand flew to his mouth, perhaps fearing that the devil might access an indiscreet portal with greater ease. ‘I do not believe . . . I do not know.’
‘I see . . .’
‘But he is innocent of all these insinuations of sorcery. Of that I am sure.’
My master must have been satisfied because he changed the subject. ‘So this is a monastery not only of fine music but also of translators?’
‘Since the beginning,’ smiled the master of music, suddenly relaxed.
‘I thank you for your insightful observations. We must not keep you further, brother, I can see that you are busy.’
‘I hope that I have been useful to you, though I am indeed limited in the affairs of gossip . . . You do not think that the Devil of jealousy is responsible for these terrible events do you, preceptor?’ he asked a little anxiously.
‘I do not know, Brother Sacar, but I am making it my aim to find out. One last thing, the organ, how does one operate it, is there a code perhaps?’