“True,” he said, shaking his head. “Nicodemus, one of the injured workers, asked for confession. He must have felt the presence of death and between confessing his sins he spoke of what happened. It would seem that events did not occur as Korne described them.”
“What are you saying? That it was not Theresa who caused the fire?”
“Let us say that it is not clear what happened. Nonetheless, even if Korne’s accusation was false, it would be very difficult to prove it. Nicodemus spoke under the secrecy of confession, and we can assume that the rest of the workers will confirm Korne’s version. I do not think Nicodemus will survive much longer in his condition, and even if he does, no doubt he will take back what he said. Remember that he works for Korne.”
“And Korne works for you.”
“My good fellow, sometimes you underestimate Korne’s power. People do not respect him for his work. They fear his family. Many townsfolk have suffered his wrath. His sons are as quick to draw their swords as an adolescent is to unsheathe his member.”
“But you know that my daughter could not have done it. You know Theresa. She was a kind and generous soul.” His tears began to flow.
“And stubborn as a mule. Look, Gorgias: I hold you in great esteem, but I cannot grant what you ask. I am truly sorry.”
Gorgias could understand Wilfred’s position, but he was not going to allow his daughter’s body to be defiled in some old dunghill.
“Then you leave me no option, Your Grace. If I cannot bury my daughter in Würzburg, I will take her body to Aquis-Granum.”
“To Aquis-Granum you say? You must be jesting. The passes are blocked, as are the relay posts. Even if you had a cart with oxen, the bandits would tear you to pieces.”
“I tell you that I will do it if it costs me my life.”
Gorgias held Wilfred’s gaze. He knew the count needed his services and would not permit anything to happen.
Wilfred took his time to respond. “You forget that there is a manuscript that needs finishing,” he eventually said.
“And you that there is a body that needs burying.”
“Don’t tempt fate. Until now I have protected you like a son, but that does not entitle you to behave like an insolent child,” he said, and resumed stroking the dogs’ heads. “Remember that it was me who took you in when you arrived in Würzburg begging for a scrap of bread. It was me who secured your place on the registry of free men, despite the fact that you lacked the required documents or weapons. And it was me who offered you the work that you have benefited from until now.”
“I would be an ingrate if I forgot it. But that was six years ago, and I believe my work has more than compensated you for your help.”
Wilfred gave him a stern look, but then his face softened. “I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. By now Korne will already have been to the judge to report what has happened. It would be reckless for me to accept the body of a person who might be found guilty of murder. And there is more. I would advise you to start worrying about yourself. You can be certain that Korne will go after you.”
“But why? During the fire I was with you in the scriptorium.”
“Hmm… I see that you still have no understanding of the complexities of Carolingian Law, something you will have to remedy if you value your head.”
Wilfred cracked his whip and the dogs moved obediently, dragging the wheeled contraption to one of the lavishly decorated chambers. Gorgias followed, obeying the count’s gesture to follow.
“This is where the optimates are given lodging,” Wilfred explained. “Princes, nobles, bishops, kings. And in this little room we keep the capitula that our king has been publishing since his coronation. Archived with these are the codices of Salic and Ripuarian Law, decretals and acts of the May Assembly—in short, the rules that govern the Franks, the Saxons, the Burgundians, and the Lombards. Now let me see…”
Wilfred brought his wheelchair up to a bookcase built low to the ground and, one by one, examined the volumes organized and protected in wooden covers. The cleric stopped in front of a threadbare tome. He removed it with difficulty, then leafed through it, wetting his finger with the tip of his tongue.
“Aha. Here it is: Capitular de Vilbis. Poitiers, anno domine 768. Karolus rex francorum. Allow me to read it to you: ‘If a free man inflicts material or personal damage on another man of equal status, and if due to any circumstances he is unable to compensate for his offense, the punishment that justly befits the offender will fall upon his family.’”
Wilfred closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
“My life is in danger?” asked Gorgias.
“Perhaps. I have known the parchment-maker for a long time. He is an egotistical man. Dangerous, perhaps, and shrewd as they come. You are no good to him dead. I imagine he will go after your assets. But what his family wants is another matter. They are from Saxony. Their customs are different from those of the Franks.”
“If what he seeks is wealth…” said Gorgias with a bitter smile.
“That is precisely your biggest problem. The trial could finish you. You could end up being sold on the slave market.”
“I don’t care about that now. After I have buried my daughter, I will find a way to remedy this situation.”
“For God’s sake, Gorgias, think it over. Or at least consider Rutgarda. Your wife is innocent. You should concentrate on preparing your defense. And do not even think about running away. Korne’s men will hunt you like a rabbit.”
Gorgias lowered his head. If Wilfred did not authorize the interment, his only option was to take the body to Aquis-Granum. But this would be impossible if—as the count warned—Korne’s relatives were prepared to hunt him down. “Theresa will be buried tonight in the cloister,” Gorgias said, “and it will be you who oversees the trial. After all, Your Grace needs my freedom much more than me.”
The count flicked the reins and the dogs growled menacingly. “Look, Gorgias, since you started copying the parchment for me, I have given you food that many would kill for. Now you are pushing me too far. In fact, perhaps I should reconsider the scope of our agreement. Your skills are to a certain extent essential to me, but if an accident, illness, or even this trial prevented you from completing the task we have agreed to, do you think my plans would go on hold? That your absence would prevent me from completing my undertaking?”
Gorgias knew that he was treading on thin ice, but his only chance was to put pressure on Wilfred. Otherwise his head would end up on a dung heap alongside Theresa’s.
“I don’t doubt that you will be able to find someone. Of course you could. All you would have to do is find a scribe whose mother tongue is Greek, who knows the customs of the ancient Byzantine court, who has equal mastery of both diplomatics and calligraphy, who can distinguish an unborn calf’s vellum from a lambskin parchment, and, who of course, knows how to keep his mouth shut. Tell me, Your Grace, how many men like that do you know? Two scribes? Three perhaps? And how many of them would be prepared to undertake such a risky commission?”