"Lawhead,.Stephen.-.Celtic.Crusades.01.-.Iron.Lance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

'That is not convenient,' the abbot said, turning to Murdo, his eyes hard. 'Perhaps if you had made proper application -
'We have been coming here for five weeks!' Murdo snapped. 'Each time we make proper application, and each time we wait and wait, and we go away without seeing anyone! This time, we will see the bishop. I do not care whether it is convenient or not!'
The abbot bristled. His eyes narrowed, and he glared at the young man before him, his mouth tight with unexpressed loathing.
'Abbot Gerardus,' Niamh said, stepping briskly forward, 'I will ask you to forgive my son's bad manners. He seems to have forgotten himself in his impatience.'
'Of course, Lady Niamh,' said the abbot, inclining his head in a modest bow, instantly the self-effacing cleric once more. 'I am your servant. How may I help you?'
'It is as my son has said: we have come to see the bishop, and in light of our previous attempts, I must insist we see him today.'
'Then I fear you will be disappointed yet again,' the abbot replied with a small gesture of helplessness - as if to say that the matter was in the hands of an authority much greater than his own. 'You see, the bishop has given instruction that he is not to be disturbed for any reason. Perhaps you will allow me to help you in his stead.'
'Show us where he is,' Murdo demanded. 'That will help us best.'
Laying a hand on her son's arm, Niamh said, 'Peace, Murdo. It may be that once we have explained our purpose, the abbot will intercede for us.' She turned to the abbot for confirmation of this assertion, but the abbot merely smiled wanly back.
Murdo wanted nothing more than to shove his fist into the abbot's smirking face, but refrained for his mother's sake, and for the sake of Hrafnb·.
'As you will know,' Lady Niamh began, moving a step nearer the table, 'the rule of the islands has passed from Jarls Erlend and Paul, to Prince Sigurd, son of Magnus, King of Norway.'
'Certainly,' Abbot Gerardus replied, 'we are only too aware of the upheaval this has caused. This is precisely the reason why you have found it so difficult to gain audience with the bishop these last weeks.'
'In consequence,' Niamh continued, 'our lands have been taken from us. Two of my servants were killed, and we have escaped with only our lives.'
The abbot pressed his mouth into a firm line. After a moment, he said, 'Most distressing, to be sure. Yet, I cannot see what you expect the church to do about it.'
Niamh stared at him in amazement. 'This injustice must be remedied as swiftly as possible,' she said. 'Our estate has been seized and given to one called Orin Broad-Foot, a nobleman said to be an advisor to Prince Sigurd. The bishop must intercede for us with the prince. He must demand the return of our lands - on pain of excommunication, if need be.'
'Would that we could wield such power as you imagine us to possess,' Abbot Gerardus said with a show of weary resignation. 'In truth, we have no such authority. The bishop would tell you the same.'
'Then let him tell us face to face,' growled Murdo.
'If only that were possible,' replied the abbot.
'Do you refuse to allow us an audience?' demanded Niamh.
'Alas, it is not within my sway to allow or refuse,' the churchman said. 'It is the bishop's command. We all must obey.'
'My husband is on pilgrimage,' Niamh said pointedly. 'He is fighting for the church - and you ask me to believe that the bishop, at whose insistence he took the cross, cannot now find the time to address a wicked violation of the peace which he himself upholds.'
'Again,' the abbot replied, 'you think us more powerful than we are. The church has no authority to compel the compliance with -'
The abbot broke off suddenly as the door behind him opened and all turned to see the bishop himself emerge from his audience chamber. 'It is well, abbot,' Adalbert said in a kindly voice. 'I heard voices and thought to interrupt my meditations if I might be of service.' He smiled benevolently and, turning to his visitors, said, 'Lady Niamh, it is so good to see you. Tell me now, daughter, how may I help you?'
While the abbot stood frowning, Niamh stepped to the bishop and quickly explained the theft of their land and the predicament forced upon them. Murdo watched in growing disbelief as the bishop, nodding in heartfelt sympathy replied, 'It is most distressing. Yes, most distressing. Believe me, I wish there was something we could do.'
'But you can intercede for us,' Niamh insisted. 'You are the sole authority of the church in Orkneyjar. There has been a dire mistake. On pain of excommunication, you can force them to relinquish the land they have stolen.'
The bishop, still sympathetic, replied, 'Lady, I cannot.' He seemed to reconsider his reply then; raising a finger, he asked, 'What was the name of the man who has assumed ownership of your estate?'
'He is one of Prince Sigurd's house carles - a nobleman called Orin.' Niamh glanced at Murdo for confirmation; he nodded curtly, suspicion swarming around him like wasps.
The bishop appeared to hesitate, as if drawn up short by the name. 'Lord Orin Broad-Foot?'
'The same, yes,' Niamh answered. 'Do you know him?'
'Alas,' sighed the bishop, 'would that you had said any name but that. Was I not holding audience with that man in this very room, Gerardus?'
'Indeed, yes, Bishop Adalbert,' replied the abbot, who seemed to Murdo to have become curiously complacent about the proceedings.
'Then you know that what I have said is true,' Lady Niamh declared.
'Dear lady,' rejoined the bishop, 'I have never doubted you for a moment.'
'Then you will help us.'
'I have already told you that I would if I could,' Adalbert maintained. 'But Lord Orin has followed his king's leading and has taken the cross.'
Murdo felt a sick dread stealing over him. He could feel the knife sliding into his gut, though he had not yet seen the blade.
'Indeed, he, like so many of our island sons, is to become a pilgrim,' the bishop continued. 'In view of the upcoming journey, he has availed himself of the pope's decree regarding the guardianship of the land.'
Niamh stared at the bishop. 'You mean..' She faltered, unable to make herself say the words.
'The Holy Church of Christ has pledged protection for the estate,' the bishop replied. 'The pertinent documents have been signed and are now on their way to Jorvik for safekeeping. So you see, it is too late.'
'When did this take place?' Niamh's voice had gone cold.
'Two days ago,' said the abbot, almost gloating with triumph.
'Two days!' shouted Murdo. 'Two days! Yet, you knew we had been here seeking audience every week for five weeks! You knew it and did nothing!'
'Calm yourself, son. Your anger is misplaced. As it happens, the assumption of Prince Sigurd has brought about many sudden and unexpected changes, as you can imagine. We have been kept busy from dawn to dusk merely to keep pace with the demands which, like your own, have arisen in the wake of the jarls' removal. I assure you, we knew nothing of your plight until you told us just now.'
'Hrafnb· is ours!' shouted Murdo; fists balled, he stepped towards the bishop. 'It is ours and you knew it!'
'Yes!' Adalbert snapped, anger flickering to life. 'And I tried to make your father see reason, but he refused. So be it. Now you must live with the consequence of his stupidity.' Glancing at Niamh, he quickly added, 'I am sorry to be so blunt, good lady, but there is nothing I can do.'
Abbot Gerardus moved to the bishop's side. 'If Lord Ranulf had not been so covetous of his rents, the estate would sooner have been under our control, and you would still have a home.'
Murdo gave a strangled cry and started for the abbot, who backed away swiftly.
'Murdo!' his mother shouted, her voice sharp as a slap. She drew him back, saying, 'Come away, son. We will not weary these churchmen further with our trifling grievance. They must have other sheep in their flock to look after - it seems it is the shearing season after all.'
'Lady Niamh,' protested the bishop, 'I fear you have taken my meaning amiss.'
'Have I?' she challenged tartly. 'Covetous of his rents.. the estate under our control..' She paused, eyes ablaze. When she spoke again, her voice was low, barely audible. 'I believe I understood your meaning very well, proud priest.'