The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [77]
The chapter was followed by the necrology, and today of course all prayers were for the soul of Prior James. The liveliest part of chapter was kept to the end: discussion of business, confession of faults and accusations of misconduct.
Remigius began by saying: “There was a disturbance during high mass yesterday.”
Philip felt almost relieved. Now he knew how he was going to be attacked. He was not sure that his action yesterday had been right, but he knew why he had done it and he was ready to defend himself.
Remigius went on: “I myself was not present—I was detained in the prior’s house, dealing with urgent business—but the sacrist has told me what occurred.”
He was interrupted by Cuthbert Whitehead. “Don’t reproach yourself on that account, Brother Remigius,” he said in a soothing voice. “We know that, in principle, monastery business should never take precedence over high mass, but we understand that the death of our beloved prior has meant that you have to deal with many matters which are outside your normal competence. I feel sure we all agree that no penance is necessary.”
The wily old fox, Philip thought. Of course, Remigius had had no intention of confessing a fault. Nevertheless, Cuthbert had pardoned him, hereby making everyone feel that a fault had indeed been admitted. Now, even if Philip were to be convicted of an error, it would do no more than put him on the same level as Remigius. In addition, Cuthbert had planted the suggestion that Remigius was having difficulty coping with the prior’s duties. Cuthbert had completely undermined Remigius’s authority with a few kindly-sounding words. Remigius looked furious. Philip felt the thrill of triumph tighten his throat.
Andrew Sacrist glared accusingly at Cuthbert. “I’m sure none of us would wish to criticize our revered sub-prior,” he said. “The disturbance referred to was caused by Brother Philip, who is visiting us from the cell of St-John-in-the-Forest. Philip took young William Beauvis out of his place in the quire, hauled him over to the south transept, and there reprimanded him while I was conducting the service.”
Remigius composed his face in a mask of sorrowful reproof. “We may all agree that Philip should have waited until the end of the service.”
Philip examined the expressions of the other monks. They seemed neither to agree nor disagree with what was being said. They were following the proceedings with the air of spectators at a tournament, in which there is no right or wrong and the only interest is in who will triumph.
Philip wanted to protest If I had waited, the misbehavior would have gone on all through the service, but he remembered Milius’s advice, and remained silent; and Milius spoke up for him. “I too missed high mass, as is frequently my misfortune, for high mass comes just before dinner; so perhaps you could tell me, Brother Andrew, what was happening in the quire before Brother Philip took this action. Was everything orderly and becoming?”
“There was some fidgeting among the youngsters,” the sacrist replied sulkily. “I intended to speak to them about it later.”
“It’s understandable that you should be vague about the details—your mind was on the service,” Milius said charitably. “Fortunately, we have a circuitor whose particular duty it is to attend to misbehavior among us. Tell us, Brother Pierre, what you observed.”
The circuitor looked hostile. “Just what the sacrist has already told you.”
Milius said: “It seems we’ll have to ask Brother Philip himself for the details.”
Milius had been very clever, Philip thought. He had established that neither the sacrist nor the circuitor had seen what the young monks were doing during the service. But although Philip admired Milius’s dialectical skill, he was reluctant to play the game. Choosing a prior was not a contest of wits, it was a matter of seeking to know the will of God. He hesitated. Milius was giving him a look