Temple of the Grail(128)

‘No!’ the cook said, almost in a whisper.

‘As God is your judge if you do not answer the truth, I will condemn this entire monastery for having colluded with you to prevent the course of justice!’

The cook was stunned. He looked behind him at the anxious faces, and there followed a long pause in which one could see his whole body tremble under the weight of these matters then with a great measure of courage, summoned from the depths of some unknown corner of his soul he raised his square chin and said:

‘No! I stand alone. It was I!’

My master, frowning, interjected, ‘By what means, cook, did you kill these men?’

The cook glanced unwaveringly at my master. ‘Satan told me, he whispered to me ‘Rodrigo, kill the old brothers, use the evil herbs in the wine which you will find in the herbarium. And when you have killed the old ones . . . kill them all!’’

There was a loud murmur. Confusion reigned.

‘Kill them all, God will know his own! María Santísima, María Santa! Pecador de mí . . . sinner that I am . . . Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!’ He sobbed then, into his deformed hands.

‘Peace! Peace!’ yelled the inquisitor at him and at the congregation.

When the room had quietened and order was restored he continued, ‘So we have it! By his own admission! Tell me, you wretched dog, did the infirmarian aid you in committing these ferocious crimes? Answer me in the name of God!’

The man looked up, suddenly confused, perhaps he had not anticipated that his confession might also implicate others. ‘No . . . no!’

‘You say this to protect the scoundrel, for how could an ignorant cook know which herb was poisonous and which was not?’

‘I . . .’ he looked around him.

‘You see? I am right! Archers, bring forth the infirmarian!’

‘No! I have told you, Satan told me which herbs to use.’ He struggled to his feet.

‘You lie!’ the inquisitor growled, pointing his pale finger at the man, looking all around him. ‘This is a convent of fiends, united through their worship of Belial! They protect each other like a nest of serpents. I do not believe you! Where there is one devil, it is certain there are others. Bring the infirmarian here!’

The infirmarian took his place beside the poor cook. His head was raised with a calm dignity.

‘How say you to this charge?’

Asa squinted myopically. ‘What charge, your grace?’

‘The charge of colluding with this sorry scoundrel by means heretical or diabolical, to murder three brothers of your own order!’

‘Which shall I answer to first, your grace, the charge of heresy, or the charge of murder?’ he asked mildly.

‘Do not double your tongue with me, you garrulous devil, it matters not which one you answer first, but that you do so without dissimulation!’

‘I have neither colluded with this poor cook to murder nor to heresy.’

‘But here I have a statement . . .’ He produced a parchment, that he ceremoniously handed to my master and he to the other prelates, ‘made by a woman whose child you cured of an incurable illness! Here she states that you gave the child some infernal substance, after which you further compounded your sin by pronouncing words in some hellish tongue over him as you made the sign of the cross!’ There was a stir like a low hum in the room. Rainiero waited until there was silence before continuing, ‘She said that you also ordered her to give the child some unlawful and magical pharmacopoeia! You call yourself a man of God!’ He crossed himself.

‘Your grace, what was the child’s ailment?’ the infirmarian asked, meekly.

‘What difference is there in what ailment?’ he scowled. ‘Here it states that the child suffered from hellish seizures.’

‘Ahh! That often accompanies many childhood ailments, especially if there is a fever . . . I would have given the mother a compound of sage leaves which is a very good medicament for many ailments. The convulsions would have abated naturally as the child’s condition improved.’

‘Rainiero,’ my master interjected. ‘The treatment prescribed is one that is not only well known, but is also used by many doctors.’

‘Yes, we know of your enthusiasm for such things. We know, preceptor, that it was your own use of such questionable treatments that led to your expulsion from the University of Paris!’

My master blanched.

‘You also treated a man with a substance whose origins were questionable.’

‘A plant that when crushed aids the beating of the heart. No more, no less,’ my master retorted. ‘It saved his life.’

‘I would expect an infidel to say as much but not a knight of Christ!’ he said, turning on my master, and all in the room knew he was alluding to his Eastern blood, ‘for infidels are not only renowned for their medical knowledge but also for knowledge of all things diabolical. You speak of an instant cure! Without the aid of prayer, without the anointing of oil! You see how the Devil may ensnare even the worthy to do his bidding. Even a man such as yourself – a man who has devoted his life to fighting the enemies of Christ –’ he said this with a cold smile, ‘is a perfect example of how persuasive the ways of darkness can be! How seemingly innocent and yet how abominable!’