‘Yes, yes . . . it was I, with Stefano, Manfredo, and Carino, waiting for Piero to leave Como that Easter week. I followed him and the friar Domenico to Barlassina until we came on a lonely place. Carino opened Piero’s head with one blow, but I saw that he breathed and put a dagger in his heart. That day I made up for letting her die! I avenged my sorrow! Again I ran away . . .Today I am no more cobarde! I killed the old brothers before they could betray my secret . . . The infirmarian knew nada!’
‘Enough! Enough! Peace! You instrument of evil! Nothing that he says can be trusted . . . and yet we have heard from his own lips his confession and although the infirmarian will not confess, his crimes are visible on the corpse of his victim. One can only hope that he does so before we commend his body to the earth and his soul to hell. Take them away.’ He ordered the guards to remove the two men. The cook now exhausted and outwardly defeated, went willingly, though on his face there was the glow of an inner triumph.
There was silence. Rainiero waited, satiated.
‘And so this interrogation would now be over,’ he said finally, ‘if not for one terrible addition . . .’ He paused a moment, lifting his head, surveying the faces of those whose fear must have been legible. ‘It is the task of the holy inquisition, not only to find heresy where it is evidenced, but also to recognise its supporters and heirs. For it is well known that the heretical depravity, like a foul seed, needs a suitable womb, an infernal bed into which it may be planted, nurtured and brought to incarnation. We know, firstly, that those who visit with heretics or live with them are their friends, since one cannot live, or visit, with a heretic, and be ignorant of his dissent. The three brothers who were killed, we have learnt today, were Cathars. The missing brother also shared in their lamentable dissent. We must therefore surmise that heresy has found a safe harbour, in the bosom of God’s house! Within these venerable walls!’
Cold whispers circulated round the chapter house and were stilled by the raising of a hand. Satisfied, he continued, ‘Further signs that alert us to the supporters of heresy are as follows: those who declare the unjust condemnation of heretics,’ as he said this he glanced at my master, ‘those who look away and allow heresy to bloom and take hold. Those who venerate, one, the bones of burnt heretics, and two, relics belonging to heretics, or books written by them! Therefore we cannot find otherwise! This abbey is guilty! Guilty on all accounts!’ There was a commotion, the abbot stood and the archers, sensing panic, readied at the doors, ‘For I know,’ he continued, ‘that below us in the hellish bowels of this monastery there are books hidden that have been deemed heretical by the church, whose infernal substance aims to bring about the downfall of Christendom! Therefore it is the finding of this tribunal that these crimes cannot, nay they should not, be attributed solely to the two men just taken away, though they may indeed be devils, for like a father who is responsible for the actions of his children, so too is an abbot responsible for the actions of his monks. In this case, responsible for the corruption of the souls placed in his care. I therefore pronounce, as rare and distressing as it is to utter these words, that the abbot is to be taken along with the other two to Paris, where together they shall be delivered to the secular authorities for purification by fire.’
There was great agitation. Monks stood, some cried out, ‘No!’, others made the sign of the cross, still others shook their heads in their hands, in lamentation.
‘This monastery is to be closed,’ Rainiero continued. ‘Satan has lived here too long, too patiently, for it to be restored as a place of worship. Its displaced community of monks may find harbour in other institutions if any will take them. They will perform a penance by wearing yellow crosses on their clothing, so that all may know they have been tainted with heresy. Finally, all properties are to be turned over to the church and secular powers.’
Now there was a stunned silence, as the abbot was led off his dais and removed.
They found the bishop in the lavatory shortly after vespers, in one of the cubicles. It was a gruesome sight.
Because of his size he was still perched on the seat with his great buttocks wedged tight against either wall, keeping him from falling into the channel of water beneath. His face was bloated and running down his chin the familiar substance, which we now knew to be the thick honey content of the wine. His obscene cross was gone.
‘Just as I thought, our missing wine,’ Andre said to me. ‘The stupid wretch must have run out of it in his own room and proceeded to the larder where he found the poisoned flask.’ He picked up the jug with the crooked handle and then he inspected the man’s shoes – no mud.