The coadjutor bowed as he went before Charlemagne. Then he straightened up as if he had swallowed a stick and began speaking in a proud tone, as though his testimony alone could solve the mystery.
“There was a great sense of expectation that day,” he began. “All the monks were transfixed by the gallows. Unfortunately, I do not see well at a distance, so I amused myself by sampling the food and observing the guests. However, the dignitaries were seated close enough to me, I could see them clearly. That was when I caught him,” he said pointing at Alcuin. “I was surprised to see him raising a cup, for the Briton balks at drink. Yet my incredulity doubled when I noticed that, rather than his own, he was holding Lothar’s cup. That was when I saw him fiddle with his ring, opening it, and emptying some powder into Lothar’s cup. Lothar drank from it before I could warn him, and moments later collapsed. Fortunately we were able to tend to him before the poison could take full effect.”
“Is this true?” Charlemagne asked Alcuin.
“Of course not,” he answered categorically.
But at that moment Lothar grasped Alcuin’s hand and pulled on the ring around his little finger. Alcuin resisted, but as they struggled, the lid came open and a cloud of white powder was strewn over Charlemagne’s cloak.
“And what is this?” said the sovereign, standing up.
Alcuin stammered and retreated. This was not how he had envisioned events unfolding.
Before he could answer, Lothar responded for him. “This is what is hidden in a man with a dark soul. A man who brandishes the Word of God while his tongue spits the poison of evil. Abbadon, Asmodeus, Belial, or Leviathan: Any of them would be proud to have him as a friend. Alcuin of York—a man capable of lying to make a profit, capable of keeping quiet while people die in order to protect himself, and capable of killing—he brushed the powder from Charlemagne to prevent his true nature from being unmasked. But I will show you his true face, the face of the beast. Because he was the first to discover what Kohl was doing. Yet rather than stop him, he blackmailed him for his own gain. He lied to him to earn his trust, and he lies now, defending him in order to defend himself. It was his assistant Theresa who was unable to bear her burden of guilt. Refusing to participate in the murder that Alcuin was eager to repeat, she came to me in confession.” He turned challengingly to Alcuin. “And now you can hide behind whatever falsities you can conjure, for nobody born under God’s mantle will dare heed your barking.”
Alcuin silently scanned the faces that had already condemned him. Finally, he took the Bible and placed his right hand on it.
“I swear before God Almighty—for the salvation of my soul—that I am innocent of the charges made against me. And if you will grant me time—”
“Time to continue killing?” Lothar interrupted.
“I have sworn on the Bible. Why don’t you also swear?” challenged Alcuin.
“Your oath is worth as much as the word of that woman who helped you. No, not even that much. Catullus said that the oaths of women are written in the wind and on the surface of waves, but yours evaporate while they are still in your thoughts.”
“Cease spouting old wives’ tales and swear!” Alcuin demanded. “Or do you fear that Charlemagne will strip you of your position?”
“How readily you forget our laws!” he said, smiling paternally. “We bishops are not of the same class of people, who like common subjects, must consign themselves to vassalage. Nor must we make oaths of any kind. You know that the evangelical and canonical code forbids it. You know that the rank and position of bishop is one bestowed upon us by God. Our positions cannot be taken away by anyone’s whim, not even the king’s. Everything associated with the Church is consecrated to God. But even if I could swear an oath… how dare you demand that I do so? For if you believed that I am telling the truth, then what would be the point in swearing? And if you believed that my word is false, then by demanding I take an oath, you would be leading me into error, and in doing so, encouraging the perpetration of sin.”
Alcuin tried to contradict him, but to his despair, the papal envoy appeared to agree with Lothar’s argument.
“Well, then. It seems obvious that the mill owner is guilty,” the monarch concluded. “A batch of wheat has been found in his possession containing the seed that apparently produces the poison, and that is something irrefutable, so I see no reason, Alcuin, why you continue to protect him. Unless, of course, you are involved, as Lothar suggests.”
Alcuin gave him a grim look. “Since when has an innocent man been obliged to defend himself? Where are the twelve men required for the accusation to be valid? Lothar’s words have been nothing more than quibbles, nonsense, and buffoonery. If you will grant me a few hours, I will prove—”
At that moment, the crash of a falling candelabra made everyone turn in surprise.
Theresa crouched behind the balustrade. In her eagerness to hear what was being said, she had leaned against the candles, and her weight had sent the entire structure plummeting to the ground.
One of the clerics caught a glimpse of her and on his command, two acolytes ran toward the choir. When they found that it was a woman, they grabbed her and shoved her in the direction of Lothar, who instructed her to kneel and beg for forgiveness.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the bear hunter!” said the king in surprise. “May I ask why you were hiding?”
Theresa kissed the royal ring before begging for mercy. Stammering, she explained that she was looking for a missing friend whom she had mistakenly thought had died and was now fleeing from her for some reason. She emphasized that she had not heard what they were discussing, and that all she wanted was to know why her friend Helga was running away from her.
When the young woman finished babbling, Charlemagne looked her up and down. For a moment he thought she had lost her senses, though her explanation was so hasty and strange that he decided perhaps she was no liar.
“And you thought you might find your friend up there in the choir?”
Theresa reddened.
“She is Alcuin’s assistant, my Lord,” Lothar interjected. “Perhaps you would like to interrogate her.”
“I don’t think so. I would rather take a break now. Maybe in prayer I will find an answer.”
“But, Your Majesty. You cannot… Alcuin needs to be punished immediately,” he insisted.
“After some prayers,” said the monarch. “Meanwhile, keep him under guard in his cell.” He signaled to have Alcuin escorted away and then left through a side door, cutting Lothar short.
At once the bishop forgot about Theresa and addressed the sentry who was taking Alcuin to his cell, telling him to make sure he did not leave it under any circumstance.
“If he needs to relieve himself, he can do so out of the window,” he blurted out.
Two guards escorted Alcuin back to his cell, flanking him on either side. Theresa followed a few steps behind. As they walked, the young woman tried to apologize, but at each attempt the monk only quickened his pace.