Though Lydia longed to go nearer to the men, she remained where she was. If she went closer, she knew she would not be able to hide her feeling for Antone. James would see it, and so might the others. When Antone finished his playing and singing, applause broke out. Lydia's hands tingled to clap, but she did not. Antone glanced in her direction. He raised his eyebrows at her and shrugged. Was he angry with her for not showing appreciation for his gift? He put away his rebec. The old Friar said to Antone, "I have a cautionary tale for you boy." Antone's face flushed angry red. Most likely he did not like being referred to as a boy.

There was a glint of mischief in the friar's eyes. "I think you will find it enlightening. It goes like this." He put his hand to his chest, looked up at the heavens and began,

"There once was a maid prone to lying. Her lips did not utter the truth.

Her eyes they did beckon and her looks did appeal to her neighbor,

a poor guiless farmer.

He begged for her hand and her father agreed to be immediately freed

of the burden of his wicked relation.

On their wedding night, the bride told her man, his bed she was bound not to

share.

Angry was he and demanded that she give reason for this stipulation.

With tear dripping eyes, she confessed and she lied professing that she was a

A nocturnal animal changeling.

What my dear wife, do you change to at night?

With stricken eyes and a quiver of voice, she confessed, A laying hen, I am sorry to say.

The farmer possessed a soul of pure trust agreed because he thought that he must

and said, Take the bed. I will sleep by the fire.

The very next morn he went to his bed and found his best laying hen,

deader than dead and all of his gold had gone missing.

This poor man grieved another wife he could get, and gold would come in its time,

but a good laying hen was harder to come by.

May this story my brothers be a caution to the wiles of a woman of singular thought.

A maid should be pretty, a maid should be kind,

but a maid should never possess her own mind.

This story was different from the other stories Lydia had heard thus far on their journey. She looked at Antone. His fists were clenched.

The old Friar with a bit of a snarl asked, "Was the tale not to your liking?"

Before Antone could answer Brother Matthew said, "It is a wrong headed story. A maid's life is of more value than a hen's."

The story teller chuckled. "Not if she dunna sleep with ye."

A burst of laughter erupted from the Friars.

Brother Matthew scolded, "Ashamed you should all be! Friars jesting about females and sacred acts of matrimony."

Angry, the old Friar stood. "Ye will not be usin' such a tone with me." He stalked off toward the road. The other Friars followed after him.

Brother Matthew said, "All of this unpleasantness could have been avoided. We could have been miles down the road and missed them all together. But no, Moses Aaron stopped so we had to endure that crude story. That cussed mule should be thrashed!"

Moses Aaron snorted. There was nothing penitent in his posture.

Angry, Antone said, "I agree with Brother Matthew."

James muttered, "Well, that is a rare occurance. Come, let us move further off the road, lest we be accosted by more bad company."

Moses Aaron tossed his head toward a grove of distant oaks. Lydia asked, "Do you want to go there?" The mule whinnied. "All right." As she lead him away, Brother Matthew exclaimed, "Now, the cussed beast moves!" Though she was not sure, it seemed that Moses Aaron cast an unsavory eye in Brother Matthew's direction.

*

During the night, the sky had clouded. Dawn came with gray light. James unbanked the fire, stirred the coals and cooked a breakfast of griddle cakes and eggs. Much to her delight, Lydia discovered her appetite had returned. Not even Antone could destroy her hunger this morning. Brother Matthew ate with the steady concentration of a cow. Like his Uncle, Antone shoveled his food into his face at an alarming but thorough rate. Both finished at the same time. Lydia finished last. By his smile, she could tell James was pleased she was eating again.

They packed up their bedding and James put the harness on Moses Aaron.

Brother Matthew said, "You may be wasting your time James. If that beast does not walk, I am going to Saint Omer by foot."

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"I second that," said Antone. He turned to Lydia and asked, "What about you Luke, care to join us?"

Inside the word, AYE leapt, but she knew James would not like it. "Let us give Moses Aaron a chance before we condemn him."

"A chance," snorted Brother Matthew. "He has had his chance."

James climbed onto the seat. "Come on Luke, those beggars can walk." Lydia crawled up beside him. Silently, she said a prayer that Moses Aaron would indeed move! Without resistance, the mule headed for the road. On the road he increased his speed.

Behind them, Brother Matthew cried, "Wait!" He had his pilgrim's robe hiked up and was running after the cart. Antone's unencumbered legs were making faster progress. He leapt up, spun around and landed with a shattering shake in the back of the cart. Brother Matthew hoisted his robe up to his thighs.

Antone shouted, "You are slow priest!"

Angrily Brother Matthew shouted back, "I am not a priest, I am a monk. If you were not such a pagan you would know the difference!"

James burst out laughing. It was the first time Lydia had ever heard him laugh. Brother Matthew lost grip on his robe. It slipped down tripping him. He hit the ground with a thwack. Antone roared with laughter. It sounded very much like his uncle's. Out of pity, James halted Moses Aaron.

Indignant, Brother Matthew got up, stalked to the cart and swung himself onto the seat. "That was cruel, James, just plain cruel."

"No!" hooted Antone. "It was not. It was funny, that is what it was! Your petite little legs churning, and then the fall, flat out!" Another fit of laughter shook Antone's body.

Lydia asked, "Are you all right?"

"Aye, kind Luke I am. Thank you." Brother Matthew then sank into a withering silence.

A tendril of smoke drifted in the sky. James saw it and frowned. A bit later they saw the friars' camp. It was too close to the road. When the cart came along side the camp there was no movement. Brother Matthew broke his silence, "Sleeping it off, I wager.Too much drink and jesting."

When they passed the camp, Antone exclaimed, "Wait! Uncle. I think something is wrong." He leapt off the cart and ran to where the friars slept. Moses Aaron halted. Something inside of Lydia told her not to look.

Antone gasped, "Dear God!"

"What is it?" called James.

"They are not sleeping. They are dead, throats slit. Robbed in the night! Their cloaks, their flasks, even their shoes and blankets have all been stolen."

James and Brother Matthew jumped down and joined Antone. Not Lydia, she remained where she was. Death was a slammed door. The abruptness of it always left her reeling. Yesterday the friars had been alive and laughing, their spirits still tied to their bodies. Now, body and spirit were divided.

Brother Matthew groaned, "This is my fault I was to harsh with them. If I had been kinder they may not have stalked off to their death."

"No," Lydia heard James say. "It is not your fault. It is they who camped too close to the road, they kept their fire going and they did not keep watch."

"That is kind of you James, but if they had stayed in our company, you would have covered the fire and had them join us away from the road. It is my fault."

"Brother Matthew, you cannot take responsibility for this. Perhaps they would have done as I suggested, but I think not."

Antone said, "There is nothing we can do for them. I say we get back on the road."

Brother Matthew protested, "We can not just leave them here. The vultures will get them."

Without sympathy, Antone replied, "That is why God made vultures."

"Have mercy James," begged Brother Matthew, "we must return them to their order in Saint Omer."

James said, "I agree. Saint Omer is not far. Luke make room in the back and put the supplies on the seat. Brother Matthew, go help him. Antone and I will bring the bodies."

While Brother Matthew helped Lydia transfer goods on the cart, he prayed under his breath. A few words were loud enough for Lydia to hear. He was begging forgiveness. Wretched and convinced of his own guilt, tears streamed from his eyes. Poor Brother Matthew. In Lydia's mind, Brother Matthew was not to blame. Thieves had done the killing. They had laid the trap. To Brother Matthew she said, "That Friar was a hot head, any word could have angered him. It was only a matter of time."

"You too are kind, Luke."

When half the cart was cleared, Brother Matthew laid a heavy tarp down in the space and called, "We are ready James."

Lydia moved from the cart and went to where Moses Aaron stood. With trembling fingers she grasped his mane and closed her eyes. One by one the bodies were stacked in the cart. When it was loaded, she heard the tarp being rolled over them.

Antone slipped beside her and asked, "A bit squeamish are we Luke?"

He was mocking her. She opened her eyes and turned to him. At this moment in time, he did not glow with some ethereal light. He was a young, grubby man with a sprinkle of stubble upon his chin. In a haughty voice she said, "I may be squeamish, but I am not coarse." Lydia did not know how he would react to her words, but she was surprised by the hurt that shot through his eyes.

"Come along," said James.

By mid day they reached Saint Omer. The process of delivering the bodies to Saint Bertin's monastery, and consulting the local authorities took all afternoon. Plus, there was Brother Matthew's lengthy confessional. It was late evening by the time he came out of the church. The priest must have said what Brother Matthew needed to hear, for he no longer seemed so over burdened. He did not mention what his penance was.

James said, "We are fast losing light. Now tell us the way to Monsieur Seton's home, Brother Matthew."

"Follow this road and turn left at the first bend." Brother Mattew climbed onto the cart.

Moses Aaron set off at a brisk pace. When they reached the farm, Lydia stared in horror. The house was burned to the ground. The air still smelled of smoke. James called out. The barn door opened and an old man appeared. James asked, "What happened here?"

In a cheery voice the man said, "My house is burnt. Fine blaze it was last night. Good thing the cook was visiting her daughter or toast she would now be. I just escaped through the window." He seemed to be a little drunk.

Confused Brother Matthew said, "Sir are you not sorry your house is gone?"

"No, not at all. My wife's papa built it. Never liked the place. Always wanted something new. Now I shall have it." He smiled at them and asked, "Who might you be?"

"I am Brother Matthew from your son, Solomon's order. He asked me to give you a letter."

"Ah, thank you. Is he well?"

"Oui," said Brother Matthew.

Monsieur Seton said, "I imagine you folks need a place to rest for the night. You are welcome to share my barn. Good thing you did not come last night or you too could be toast."

Lydia wondered, Was it possible that Moses Aaron's halt yesterday had saved them twice? Aloud she said, "I think you will agree Brother Matthew that we are fortunate Moses Aaron is a stubborn cuss."

"Oui," said Brother Matthew. "Perhaps Moses Aaron, like Balaam's ass in scripture saw a protective angel, when we did not. I will not be abusin' the creature again."

Moses Aaron stamped his foot and whinnied.