Song of a Dark Angel

her question was important to her.
    The physician shrugged and sipped from his goblet.
    'It is, perhaps, different from yours, my lady.'
    'But there's men and women together?' The prioress widened her eyes.
    'In France,' Selditch replied, 'such houses are common. A group of brothers in one building, a group of sisters in the other.' He laughed and popped a grape into his mouth. 'Sometimes they meet and sometimes they don't.'
    'They seem gentle enough to me,' Father Augustine interrupted. 'I have said Mass at the Hermitage on a number of occasions. The Pastoureaux dress simply in brown robes and sandals. They beg for alms and live on the donations given to them. For the rest, they seem to pray and talk a lot.'
    'How many are there?' Corbett asked.
    The priest pulled a face.
    'The number changes as some arrive, some leave, but at any one time no more than fourteen or sixteen.' Corbett toyed with his wine cup.
    'How long have the Pastoureaux been here?' he asked Gurney.
    'About sixteen months. Master Joseph and his able lieutenant Philip Nettler came here at the beginning of autumn. They discovered the old Hermitage and asked if they could live there, promising to be no threat to me or mine.' Gurney shrugged. 'So I allowed them to stay. They grow their own herbs and tend a few chickens and pigs. I went there in the early days and saw nothing untoward. They have a makeshift chapel and a communal refectory. When the weather is good, they go along the highways and beg.'
    'And the villagers?'
    'At first they were suspicious. The Pastoureaux, however, particularly Master Joseph and Philip Nettler, proved themselves to be honest and hard-working, so the villagers accepted them. Some of the young men and women from the village have joined the Pastoureaux and travelled on-'
    'Travelled on?' Ranulf interrupted. 'My lord, why should they travel?'
    Alice answered him. 'They have a vision,' she said. 'They believe Christ's return is imminent. So, when they have been purified and prepared, they travel to Hull or one of the other ports from where they take ship to Outremer. According to Master Joseph, they are to assemble near the Mount of Olives, where Christ will soon come again in a chariot of fire.'
    'And they believe all that?' Ranulf mocked.
    'Why shouldn't they?' Alice said. 'I believe there are similar movements all over Europe?'
    'But no one questions all this?' Ranulf insisted.
    'The Pastoureaux also come to me,' Dame Cecily told him. 'We give them cloth, wine and food. In return they work on our estate, in our gardens and orchards, as they do for Sir Simon. Their community is a changing one, but the young men and women seem full of hope. They stay for a few weeks at the Hermitage, for what Father Joseph calls the period of purification, then he or Master Philip takes them to the nearest port. They are given money, a warrant, a change of clothing, some food, and off they sail.' She shrugged. 'They seem honest enough. They hold everything in common and anything they earn is put into the community treasury.'
    She smiled at Ranulf and the manservant glimpsed the lechery in the prioress's eyes.
    A hot one there, he thought, and smiled to himself – perhaps a visit to the good canonesses might not go amiss. Ranulf often boasted to Maltote, 'I was born a villain and I can smell villains'. Well, he had smelled them tonight and, as he held the prioress's glance, Ranulf fleetingly wondered what old Master Long Face thought of it all.
    'And the women travel abroad as well?' Corbett asked.
    'Why shouldn't they?' Father Augustine asked. 'What's a young girl's lot in a peasant village? Hard work, marriage to some lout? Half-dead with child-bearing by the time she's reached her twentieth summer. It's not much better for the young men, they're either chained to the plough or sent off to the king's wars in Scotland.'
    'I don't like them,' Adam Catchpole interjected. He carefully placed his thick, muscular arms on the table top. 'I don't like Philip Nettler or even the saintly Master Joseph. They are both idle buggers! I come from a village something like this.' His harsh voice suddenly rose. 'I've seen these movements before! They tell the simpletons that Jerusalem is round the corner or over the brow of the next hill. It never is!' He stared at Corbett. 'And you know that, don't you, Sir Hugh? Otherwise you and Master Monck would not be here.'
    'In a way, yes,' Corbett replied quietly. He paused as a servant refilled his goblet. 'The