Chapter FIFTEEN
Judgment
THERE WAS NOTHING TO BE DONE BUT TO OPEN THE door, and at once we saw the Sherriff still on his mount, surrounded by soldiers, and a man who could be none other than the Earl, on foot beside his mount, and with what appeared to be his own guard of several mounted men.
Godwin went directly into his brother’s arms, and holding his brother’s face in his hand spoke to him intently under his breath.
The Sherriff waited on this.
A crowd began to gather of rather rough-looking individuals, some with clubs in their hands, and the Sherriff immediately ordered his men to drive them back in a harsh voice.
Two of the Dominicans were there and several of the white-robed cathedral priests. And it seemed the crowd was gaining size by the moment.
A gasp went up from the whole assemblage as Rosa stepped out of the house and threw back the hood on her mantle.
Her grandfather had also come out, and so had the stocky Jewish man, whose name I never learned. He stood close to Rosa as if to guard her and so did I.
Conversations broke out everywhere, and I could hear the name “Lea” repeated over and over.
Then one of the Dominicans, a young man, said in an iron voice, “Is it Lea, or is it her sister, Rosa?”
The Sherriff, obviously feeling that he had waited as long as he could, said:
“My Lord,” to the Earl, “we should go up now to the castle and settle this matter. The Bishop is waiting for us in the great hall.”
A groan of disappointment rose from the crowd. But at once the Earl kissed Rosa on both cheeks, and demanding one of his soldiers dismount, placed her on the horse, and proceeded to lead the gathering towards the castle.
Godwin and I remained close throughout the long walk to the castle mound and then up the winding road until we all passed through the archway and into the castle courtyard.
As the men dismounted, I gained the Earl’s attention by tugging on his sleeve.
“Have one of your men go for the cart that’s behind Meir’s house. It’s wise to have it ready here at the gates when Meir and Fluria are released.”
He nodded to this, motioned for one of his soldiers, and sent the man out on the errand.
“You can be sure,” the Earl said to me, “they will travel out of here with me and my guard surrounding them.”
I was relieved at this, as he had some eight soldiers with him, all with beautiful caparisoned mounts, and he himself did not seem in the least anxious or afraid. He received Rosa in his arms, and put his arm around her as we proceeded under the archway and into the great hall of the castle.
I hadn’t seen this vast room on my earlier visit, and at once I saw that a court had been convened.
At the elevated table that commanded the room stood the Bishop and on either side of him the cathedral priests and more of the Dominicans including Fr. Antoine. I saw Fr. Jerome of the cathedral was there, and he looked miserable over the proceedings.
More gasps of amazement went up as Rosa was led forward to face the Bishop to whom she bowed humbly as did everyone present, including the Earl.
The Bishop, a younger man than I might have expected, and fully dressed in his miter and taffeta robes, at once gave the order for Meir and Fluria, and the Jew, Isaac, and his family, to be brought down at once from their rooms in the tower.
“All the Jews are to be brought down,” he finally said.
Many of the rougher men were now inside, as well as some women and children. And tougher men who hadn’t been allowed admittance were making their voices heard, until the Bishop ordered one of his men to go silence them.
That’s when I realized that a row of armed guards behind the Bishop were obviously his own soldiers.
I was shaking and I did my best to conceal it.
Out of one of the anterooms came Lady Margaret, obviously dressed for the occasion in impressive silks, and, with her, Little Eleanor, who was crying.
In fact, Lady Margaret was near to tears herself.
And when Rosa now threw back her hood and bowed to the Bishop, voices rose all around us.
“Silence,” the Bishop declared.
I was terrified. I had never seen anything quite as impressive as this court, with so many assembled, and I could only hope and pray that the various contingents of soldiers might keep order.
The Bishop was clearly angry.
Rosa stood before him with Godwin to one side and Earl Nigel to the other.
“You see now, My Lord,” said Earl Nigel, “that the child is hale and hearty and has returned, with great difficulty given her recent illness, to make her presence known to you.”
The Bishop sat down, in his great backed chair, but he was the only one to do so.
We were pressed forward by the increasing crowd as many worked their way into the audience.
Lady Margaret and Nell stared at the figure of Rosa. And then Rosa dissolved into tears and laid her head on Godwin’s shoulder.
Lady Margaret drew closer and then gently took the shoulder of the girl, and she said, “Are you indeed the child I so tenderly loved? Or are you her twin sister?”
“My lady,” said Rosa, “I’ve come back, leaving my twin sister in Paris, only to prove to you that I am alive.” She began to sob. “I am so distressed that my defection has caused misery to my mother and father. Can’t you understand why I left in the quiet of the night? I was bound to join my sister, not only in Paris, but in her Christian faith, and would not bring disgrace openly upon my father and mother.”
This she said in the most deeply affecting manner, and it silenced Lady Margaret entirely.
“Then you do solemnly swear,” declared the Bishop, his voice ringing out, “that you are the child whom these people knew, and not the twin of that child, come here to mask the fact of your sister’s murder?”
A great murmur went up from those assembled.
“My Lord Bishop,” said the Earl, “do I not know the two children who are under my guardianship? This is Lea, and she is ill once more for having made this difficult journey.”
But suddenly everyone was distracted by the appearance of the Jews who’d been kept prisoner. Meir and Fluria came first into the room, and after them Isaac, the physician, and the several other Jews, easily recognized for their badges but nothing else, who clustered together.
Rosa at once broke from the Earl and ran to her mother. She embraced her tearfully and said loud enough to hear:
“I have caused you disgrace and unspeakable pain and I’m sorry for it. My sister and I have nothing but love for you, no matter that we’ve been baptized into the Christian faith, and how can you and Meir forgive me?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but embraced Meir, who kissed her in return, though he was pale with fear and clearly repelled by these proceedings.
Lady Margaret now stared at Rosa with the hardest eye and, turning to her daughter, whispered something to her.
At once the young girl went up to Rosa, even as Rosa hung on her mother’s shoulder, and said, “But Lea, why did you send no message to us that you were to be baptized?”
“How could I?” asked Rosa through a continuing flood of tears. “What could I tell you? Surely you understand the heartbreak I brought to these my beloved parents by my decision? What could they do but send for the Earl’s soldiers to take me to Paris, which they did, and there I joined my sister. But I would not have had it trumpeted about the Jewry that I had so betrayed my loving parents.”
She went on in this same manner, crying so bitterly that the absence of familiar names wasn’t noticed, and begging for all those to understand how she felt.
“Had not I seen the beautiful Christmas pageant,” she said suddenly, treading a little close to danger when she did so, “I would not have understood why my sister, Rosa, converted. But I did see it, and I did come to understand, and as soon as I was well enough, I went to join her. Do you think I knew that anyone would accuse my mother and father of harming me?”
The young girl was now on the defensive.
“We thought you were dead, you must believe that,” she said.
But before she could go on, Rosa demanded to know, “How could you have doubted the goodness of my mother and father? You who have been in our house, how could you think they would do harm to me?”
Lady Margaret and the young girl were both now shaking their heads, murmuring that they only did what they thought was right and mustn’t be blamed for it.
So far so good. But Fr. Antoine now let his voice be heard loud enough to echo off the walls.
“This is a very grand show,” he said, “but as we know full well, Fluria, daughter of Eli, who has come here this day, had twins, and twins have not come here together to exonerate her. How do we know that you are not Lea but in fact Rosa?”
Voices everywhere rose to emphasize his question.
Rosa didn’t hesitate.
“Father,” she said to the priest, “would my sister, a baptized Christian, come here to defend my parents if the life of her sister had been taken by them? Surely you must believe me. I am Lea. And I want only to return to my sister in Paris, along with my guardian, Earl Nigel.”
“But how are we to know?” demanded the Bishop. “Were these twins not identical?” He motioned to Rosa to come closer.
The hall was filled with angry and contrary voices.
But nothing alarmed me as much as the way that Lady Margaret had stepped forward and was staring with narrow eyes at Rosa.
Rosa again told the Bishop that she would swear on the Bible that she was Lea. And now she wished that her sister had come, but she had never thought that her friends here would not believe her.
Lady Margaret suddenly cried out, “No! This is not the same child. This is her double, but with a different heart and a different spirit.”
I thought the crowd would riot. Angry cries came from all sides. The Bishop at once demanded, “Silence.”
“Bring the Bible for this child to swear,” said the Bishop, “and bring the sacred book of the Jews for the mother to swear that this is her daughter Lea.”
At once, there were panicked glances exchanged between Rosa and her mother. And Rosa began to cry again and ran into her mother’s arms. As for Fluria, she seemed exhausted from her imprisonment and weak and incapable of saying or doing anything.
The books were produced, though what the “sacred book of the Jews” was I couldn’t have said.
And Meir and Fluria murmured the lies required of them.
As for Rosa, she took the huge leather-bound volume of the Bible, and immediately laid her hand on it. “I swear to you,” she said, her voice muted and breaking with emotion, “by all I believe as a Christian, that I am Lea, born to Fluria, and the ward of Earl Nigel, come here to clear the name of my mother. And I want only to be allowed to leave this place, knowing that my Jewish parents are safe, and will pay no penalty for my defection.”
“No,” cried Lady Margaret. “Lea never spoke with such ease as that, never in her life. She was a mute compared to this one. I tell you, this child is deceiving us. She is party to the murder of her sister.”
At this the Earl lost his temper. He shouted louder than anyone present except the Bishop.
“How dare you contradict my word?” he demanded. He glared at the Bishop. “And you, how dare you challenge me when I tell you that I am Christian guardian to both these girls who are being educated by my brother?”
Godwin stepped forward. “My Lord Bishop, please, do not let this go on any further. Restore these good Jews to their homes. Can you not imagine the pain of these parents who have seen their daughters take up the Christian faith? Much as I am honored to be their teacher, and to love them with a true Christian love, I cannot but feel compassion for the parents they’ve left behind.”
A moment of silence fell except for the feverish murmurings of the crowd that seemed to move hither and thither through those assembled as if a game of whispering were being played.
It seemed everything hung now on Lady Margaret and what she might say.
But just as she was about to protest, throwing her finger out at Rosa, old Eli, Fluria’s father, stepped forward and cried, “I demand to be heard.”
I thought Godwin would perish with apprehension. And Fluria collapsed on the breast of Meir.
But the old man commanded the silence of all. Indeed, he stepped up, with Rosa’s guidance, until he stood facing Lady Margaret blindly with Rosa between them.
“Lady Margaret, latent friend of my daughter Fluria and her good husband, Meir, how dare you challenge a grandfather’s wits and reason? This is my grandchild, and I would know her no matter how many doubles of her roamed this world. Do I want to embrace an apostate child? No, never, but she is Lea, and I would know her were there a thousand Rosas to fill this room and say otherwise. I know her voice. I know her as no one with sight could possibly know her. Are you to challenge my gray hairs, my wisdom, my honesty, my honor!” He at once reached out for Rosa, who went into his arms. He crushed Rosa to his shoulder. “Lea,” he whispered. “Lea, my own.”
“But I only wanted—,” began Lady Margaret.
“Silence, I say,” said Eli with an immense deep voice, as if he wanted everyone in the great room to hear it. “This is Lea. I, who have ruled the synagogues of the Jews all my life, avow it. I avow it. Yes, these daughters are apostates and must eventually be excommunicated from their fellow Jews and this is bitter, bitter to me, but even more bitter is the obstinacy of a Christian woman who is the very cause of this child’s defection. Were it not for you she would never have left her pious parents!”
“I only did what—.”
“You tore at the heart of a home and hearth,” he declared. “And now you deny her when she comes all this way to save her mother? You are heartless, My Lady. And your daughter, what part does she have in this? I defy you to prove that this is not the girl you knew. I defy you to put forth one shred of evidence that this child is not Lea, daughter of Fluria!”
The crowd roared with applause. All around people were murmuring, “The old Jew tells the truth,” and “Yes, how can they prove it?” and “He knows her by her voice,” and a hundred other variations of the same theme.
Lady Margaret burst into a flood of tears. But they were silent compared to the tears shed by Rosa.
“I meant no harm to anyone!” wailed Lady Margaret suddenly. She threw up her arms to the Bishop. “I truly thought the child was dead and thought myself the cause of it.”
Rosa turned. “Lady, be comforted, I beg you,” she said in a halting and timid voice.
The crowd went quiet as she went on. And the Bishop motioned furiously for order as the priests began to quarrel with one another, and Fr. Antoine stood staring in disbelief.
Rosa continued, “Lady Margaret, if it were not for your kindness to me,” she said, her voice frail and tender, “I would never have gone to join my sister in her new faith. What you cannot know is that it was her letters to me that laid the ground for my going with you that night to Christmas Mass, but it was you who sealed my conviction. Forgive me, forgive me with all your heart, please, that I did not write to you and tell you of my gratitude. Again, my love for my mother … Oh, do you not understand? I beg you.”
Lady Margaret could resist no longer. She took Rosa in her arms, and again and again protested how sorry she was that she’d caused such misery.
“My Lord Bishop,” declared Eli, turning his blind eyes towards the tribunal. “Will you not let us return to our homes? Fluria and Meir will leave the Jewry after this disturbance, as you are sure to understand, but no one has committed any crime here whatsoever. And we will deal with the apostasy of these children in time as they are yet … children.”
Lady Margaret and Rosa were now tangled in each other’s arms, sobbing, whispering, and Little Eleanor had put her arms around them.
Fluria and Meir stood mute, staring, as did Isaac the physician and the other Jews, his family perhaps, who had been prisoners in the tower.
The Bishop sat down. He threw out his hands in an expression of frustration.
“Very well, then. It is done. You recognize this child as Lea.”
Lady Margaret nodded vigorously. “Only tell me,” she said to Rosa, “that you forgive me, forgive me for the pain I’ve brought to your mother.”
“I do with all my heart,” Rosa said, and she said a great deal more, but the entire room was in motion.
The Bishop declared the proceedings closed. The Dominicans stared hard at all involved. The Earl at once gave his soldiers the order to mount up, and without waiting for any further word from anyone he motioned for Meir and Fluria to come with him.
I stood stock-still, watching. I could see the Dominicans held back, and regarded everyone with a cold eye.
But Meir and Fluria were led from the hall, the old man with them, and now Rosa went out, her arms around Lady Margaret and Little Eleanor, all three of them weeping.
I glanced out through the archway, and saw the entire family, including Magister Eli, mounting into the cart, and Rosa giving one last embrace to Lady Margaret.
The other Jews had begun their march down the hill. The soldiers were on their horses.
It was as if I woke from a dream when Godwin pulled on my arm. “Come now, before anything changes.”
I shook my head. “Go,” I said. “I’ll stay here. If there is any further trouble, I must be here.”
He wanted to protest but I reminded him of how urgent it was that he climb into that cart and go.
The Bishop rose from the table and he and the white-robed priests of the cathedral disappeared into one of the anterooms.
The crowd was fragmented, and powerless, and watched as the cart made its way down the hill, flanked on both sides by the Earl’s soldiers. As for the Earl he rode behind the cart, with a straight back, and his left elbow out as if his hand were on the hilt of his sword.
I turned around and started out of the yard.
Stragglers eyed me and eyed the Dominicans who came after me.
I began to walk faster and faster down the hill. I could see the Jews walking safely ahead, and the cart was gaining speed. Suddenly the horses began to trot and all the entourage picked up the pace. They would be free of the town in minutes.
I picked up my own pace. I could see the cathedral and some instinct pushed me to go to it. But I could hear the footsteps of men right behind me.
“And where do you think you will go now, Br. Toby!” demanded Fr. Antoine in an angry voice.
I continued to walk though he put a hard hand on my shoulder.
“To the cathedral, to give thanks, where else?”
I walked as fast as I could without running. But suddenly the Dominican friars were on both sides of me, and a good many of the toughs of the town were on either side of them, looking on with curiosity and suspicion.
“You think you will seek sanctuary there!” demanded Fr. Antoine. “I think not.”
We were at the foot of the hill, when he pushed me around, and jabbed his finger in my face.
“Just who are you, Br. Toby? You who came here to challenge us, you who brought from Paris a child who may not be the child she claims to be.”
“You’ve heard the decision of the Bishop,” I said.
“Yes, and it will stand, and all will be well, but who are you and where do you come from?”
I could see the great facade of the cathedral now and I made my way through the streets towards it.
Suddenly he spun me around, but I pulled loose of him.
“No one has heard of you,” said one of the brothers, “no one from our house in Paris, no one from our house in Rome, no one from our house in London, and we have written back and forth enough from here to London and to Rome to know that you are not one of us.”
“Not one of us,” declared Fr. Antoine, “knows anything of you, traveling scholar!”
I walked on and on, hearing the thunder of their steps behind me, thinking, I am leading them away from Fluria and Meir as surely as if I were the Pied Piper.
At last I gained the square before the cathedral, when suddenly two of the priests took hold of me.
“You will not enter that church until you answer us. You’re not one of us. Who sent you here to pretend you were! Who sent you to Paris to bring back this girl who claims to be her own sister!”
All around I could see the tough young men and, again, women and children in the crowd, and torches began to appear, to fight the gloom of the late winter afternoon.
I struggled to be free, and this only incited others to lay hold of me. Someone ripped the leather bag from my shoulder. “Let’s see what letters of introduction you carry,” demanded one of the priests, and then he emptied out the bag and all that fell from it was silver and gold coins rolling everywhere.
The crowd gave a loud roar.
“No answer?” demanded Fr. Antoine. “You admit that you are nothing but an impostor? We have been worried about the wrong impostor all this time? Is that what we are given to know now? You are no Dominican friar!”
I furiously kicked at him, and pushed him back, and I turned around to face the doors of the cathedral. I made a dash for it, when suddenly one of the young men caught me in his grip and slammed me back against the stone wall of the church so that everything went black for me for an instant.
Oh, that it had been forever. But I couldn’t wish for that. I opened my eyes to see the priests trying to hold back the furious crowd. Fr. Antoine cried out that this was their matter and they would settle it. But the crowd was having none of it.
People were pulling at my mantle, at last tearing it off. Someone else yanked my right arm and I felt a riot of pain move through my shoulder. Once again I was slammed against the wall.
In flickers, I saw the crowd as if the light of consciousness in me were going on and off, on and off, and slowly a dreadful sight materialized.
The priests had all been pushed to the rear. Only the tough young men of the town and the rougher women now surrounded me. “Not a priest, not a friar, not a brother, impostor!” came the cries.
And as they struck me and kicked me and tore at my robes, it seemed that all through the shifting mass, I made out other figures. These figures were all known to me. These figures were the men I’d murdered.
And there very near me, wrapped in silence, as though he was not part of the melee at all, but invisible to the ruffians who worked their fury on me, stood the man I’d lately killed at the Mission Inn, and right beside him the young blond-haired girl I’d shot so many long years ago in Alonso’s brothel. All looked on, and in their faces I saw not judgment, not glee, but only something faintly sad and wondering.
Someone had ahold of my head. They were beating my head against the stones, and I could feel the blood running down my neck and down my back. For a moment I saw nothing.
I thought in the strangest most detached way of my question to Malchiah, which he had never answered. “Could I die in this time? Was that possible?” But I didn’t call out for him now.
As I went down in a torrent of blows, as I felt the leather shoes kicking at my ribs and at my stomach, as the breath went out of me, as the sight left my eyes, as the pain shot through my head and limbs, I said only one prayer.
Dear Lord, forgive me that I ever separated myself from You.