“I don’t remember. About buying some grain, I suppose. I beg you, Your Excellency, my husband is a good man. He has always treated me well—anyone can tell you. He has never beaten me. We have been punished enough with the death of our daughter. Please release us.”
“For pity’s sake, just answer the questions. Tell the truth, and perhaps the Almighty will have mercy on you.”
The woman nodded, trembling. She swallowed and continued. “The monk asked my husband for a batch of wheat, but my husband told him that he only traded in rye. I heard this because, when they started talking money, I paid more attention.”
“So Alcuin proposed a deal to Kohl.”
“Yes, Your Excellency. He said that he needed to buy a large amount of wheat, that it was needed in the abbey. But I swear, Lord Bishop, that my husband would never have done anything unlawful.”
“Very well. Now leave.”
The woman kissed the bishop’s ring and curtsied to Charlemagne. Then she stole a glance at Alcuin before following the same servants that had brought her there. When the woman had left the church, Lothar turned to Charlemagne. “Now it transpires that your monk trades in wheat. Were you aware of this activity?”
The king gave Alcuin a stern look. “Your Majesty,” Alcuin stepped in. “I know you will think it strange, but I was merely trying to discover the source of the sickness.”
“And make a tidy profit along the way,” Lothar interrupted.
“In heaven’s name! Of course not. I needed to earn Kohl’s trust in order to obtain the wheat.”
“Oh! To reach the wheat you say! So what have you concluded, Alcuin? Is Kohl guilty or innocent? Are you pursuing him or defending him? Did you lie to him at the mill, or are you lying to us now?” He turned toward Charlemagne. “This is the man you place your trust in? He who makes falsity his way of life?”
Alcuin clenched his teeth. “Conscientia mille testes. In God’s eyes, my conscience is worth a thousand testimonies. The fact that you do not believe me does not concern me.”
“Well, it should concern you, for neither your eloquence nor your contempt will free you from the dishonor with which you conduct yourself. Tell me, Alcuin, do you recognize this document?” He showed him an ink-stained folia, visibly crumpled.
“Let me see,” he said, examining it. “May I ask where the devil you found this?”
“In your cell, naturally,” he said, snatching it back from him. “Did you write it?”
“Who gave you permission to enter my cell?”
“In my congregation, I do not need it. Answer! Are you the author of this letter?”
Alcuin nodded begrudgingly.
“And do you remember its contents?” Lothar persisted.
“No, not really.”
“Then pay attention,” he said, and repeated the request more politely to Charlemagne before reading: “With God’s help. Third day of the calends of January, and the fourteenth since our arrival at the abbey,” he read. “All the evidence points toward the mill. Last night Theresa discovered several capsules among the cereal, which Kohl kept in his storehouses. Without doubt the miller is guilty. I fear that the pestilence will spread through Fulda, however, the time has not yet come to put a stop to it.”
Lothar stuffed the parchment into his clothing with a grimace of satisfaction. “Certainly these do not seem like the devotions of a Benedictine. What does Your Majesty think?” he asked the king. “Do they not reveal clear intent to cover up a crime?”
“It would seem so,” Charlemagne lamented. “Do you have anything to say in your defense, Alcuin?”
The monk hesitated before responding. He argued that he tended to write down his thoughts in order to reflect on them later, adding that nobody had the right to rummage through his belongings, and that he had never done anything that might harm a Christian. However, he did not elaborate on the text.
“And if you suspected Kohl, what compels you now to defend him?” Charlemagne asked.
“It is something I determined later. Actually, I suspect it was his red-haired assistant who—”
“You mean Rothaart, the late Rothaart?” Lothar interjected. “What a coincidence! Does it not seem odd to you that the person responsible for poisoning the entire town should also be poisoned to death?”
“Perhaps it was not such a coincidence,” Alcuin retorted, directing a defiant look at Lothar.
Still crouching behind the choir, Theresa was torn between trusting Alcuin and believing Lothar. Hoos had warned her against the monk and now Lothar was also accusing him of misdeeds with complete conviction. Even the king himself was starting to doubt his own adviser. She wanted to believe him innocent, but then, why would he have locked her in that room?
“Do you know this woman Theresa?” she heard Lothar ask him.
“Why do you ask?” Alcuin responded. “You know her as well as I.”
“Yes, but is it not true that you have spent many hours working with her?”
“I still fail to understand what you mean.”
“If you do not understand, then imagine what we must think about a young, attractive girl, as I seem to remember, helping a monk at all hours of the night in matters that fall beyond a woman’s abilities. If you please, Alcuin, be honest. Aside from conducting business, do you also pursue daughters of Eve?”
“Hold your tongue. I will not permit you to—”
“And now you order me to be quiet,” he said, laughing affectedly. “Confess, for the love of God. And isn’t it also true that you made her swear an oath? Did you or did you not order her to keep your secret? Was this how you attempted to keep your abominable plans secret? By abusing your position, using your superior knowledge, and taking advantage of the shortfalls inherent to the female intellect?”
Alcuin was now visibly grinding his teeth as he stood face-to-face with Lothar. “But what plans do you speak of? God knows that what I say is true.”
“And I suppose God will also be aware of your attempted poisoning, will He not?”
“For goodness’ sake, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ha! And you think I am the ludicrous one! Very well. Let us see what our King Charlemagne thinks about all of this. Ludwig! Step forward.”
The coadjutor obeyed wearily, looking at Alcuin with scorn.
“Beloved Ludwig, would you be so kind as to tell us what you saw last week, during the ceremony for the execution of The Swine?” Lothar requested.