‘How long ago was that?’
Ivar shrugged. ‘Ten years or so; I cannot recall exactly. Later I followed the crusading call of Peter the Hermit, and accompanied his glorious force to Constantinople and beyond. There I witnessed the great battle where so many of his followers fell.’
‘Near Civetot?’ asked Geoffrey. He had heard stories of that particular massacre, which many felt had been avenged several years later when the forces of which he himself had been a part had besieged, taken and pillaged the Holy City of Jerusalem.
Ivar nodded. ‘It was pure slaughter, and shocked me into returning here. I found the cave I had sheltered in previously, and decided to remain. After seeing all of those terrible things, I liked living away from the world of men, and wish I was there now.’
‘Then why did you leave it?’
‘Because of Eleanor.’ Ivar looked away. ‘Some people turned against me then, and Prior Odo suggested I would be safer here. He was right: Walter might have killed me, otherwise.’
‘You took holy orders?’
‘Yes — as I should have done years ago. It was always my intention, but I was happy in the cave. The forest provided fruit, berries and nuts, and the river is full of fish. And when times were bleak, I healed people in exchange for food.’
‘Healed them of what?’
Ivar shrugged. ‘Small things — warts, aching joints. I helped just enough folk to keep me from starving. I pretended to heal them with my remedies, but it was really the sky-stone.’
‘Odo mentioned that you had hidden it,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Is that wise?’
‘Are you suggesting that I should tell someone else in case I drop dead? Or because Walter’s hatred means that I have not much time left?’ Ivar shrugged again. ‘Then it will be God’s will.’
There was no point in arguing once God was mentioned, and Geoffrey did not try. ‘How did you come by it?’ he asked instead.
‘My brother found it when we were children. I was taking it to the Church in Iceland when I was shipwrecked, but God obviously did not want it to go there. Anyway, the sky-stone cured me of a crooked leg, then healed two men of terrible wounds from a white bear.’
‘Then it does have remarkable power,’ said Geoffrey. ‘So why do you keep it hidden? Why not use it to help people?’
‘Because it does not always work, as was shown with Eleanor. And because it might wear out if it is overused. Besides, God did not tell me to tout it about, and I am loath to offend Him — I do not want to suffer more storms, shipwrecks and pirates.’
‘But it saved the lives of three people,’ argued Geoffrey. ‘Surely, that must mean it-’
‘Two were killed the following day, because they tried to take it for their own ends.’
Geoffrey was bemused. ‘You killed them?’
Ivar was appalled. ‘No, of course not! I was seven years old — too small to hold a sword, let alone use one. It was my father’s doing. He was a gentle man mostly, but he knew how to fight.’
‘I see,’ said Geoffrey, not seeing at all. But Ivar’s rambling discourse was doing nothing to forward his enquiries. He stood to leave, but the man reached out and pulled him back down.
‘I told Leger where I hid the sky-stone. He was the only one, because I dare not trust anyone else. I told him last week.’
Geoffrey frowned. ‘Last week was when he started to say someone was trying to kill him.’
‘I know.’
‘Are you saying Leger was murdered because you told him of the sky-stone’s whereabouts?’
Ivar looked out of the window. ‘Hermits do not have friends, and it was difficult to adapt to life in a priory. Leger helped me, with patience and understanding. He was the closest I have had to a true friend in my life. I trusted him completely. So I asked him what should be done with this gift from God. And I told him where it was hidden.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he needed time to think and confer with others. He left the priory that day but would not say where he had been. And that night he began to say that someone had designs on his life.’
‘You think he conferred with someone who then tried to kill him? Who?’
‘I do not know, but I wish with all my heart that I had kept my mouth shut. There are many who would kill for the secret. Walter, Revelle and Pigot are soldiers, used to blood. Nest and Cadowan are good folk, but the sky-stone has a way of bringing out the worst in people. And my brethren here are worldly, and love money and power. I do not trust any of them.’
‘It will be easy to know whether Leger revealed the secret — go to where you hid the sky-stone and see whether it is still there. If it is, then he did not tell anyone. If it is not, then he did.’
Ivar winced. ‘I moved it within moments of his going out. I am afraid I did not like the fact that he could not give me an immediate answer, and I grew uneasy.’
‘In other words, someone might have killed him because he revealed the location of the sky-stone, but it was not where he said it would be,’ concluded Geoffrey.
Ivar nodded slowly. ‘It is certainly possible. I tried to talk to him about it, but he became distant and worried. I have told you this because I want his killer found — you must question Walter, Odo and Cadowan, and demand to know where they were last night.’
‘Perhaps you should write down where you have hidden this stone,’ suggested Geoffrey. ‘Because if anything happens to you, then it really will be lost for ever.’
‘Not for ever,’ said Ivar. ‘These objects have a way of putting themselves in the place where they mean to be. It may lie hidden for decades — centuries, even — but it will emerge in the end.’
Geoffrey was silent for a moment, thinking about what had been said, but when he turned back to Ivar his eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. Odo approached before the knight could wake him.
‘Leave him,’ the prior said softly. ‘He is distressed by what happened to Leger, and it is good that he sleeps. I do not suppose he confided where he hid the sky-stone, did he? If so, you must tell me. You will appreciate that it belongs here, in the hands of the Church.’
Geoffrey shook his head, watching the flash of disappointment in the prior’s eyes. ‘He said he told Leger, but no one else.’
Odo looked angry. ‘Did he? Then why did Leger not tell me? I was his prior — I am used to making weighty decisions, and he was not. It was his duty to tell me, as one of my monks.’
It was not a question Geoffrey could answer, so he did not try. ‘Ivar does not seem like a man who would fit well into your community,’ he observed. ‘I am surprised you took him.’
Odo glared at him. ‘And what do you mean by that, pray?’
‘He is illiterate, for a start.’
Odo continued to glare. ‘How do you know?’
‘First, he was holding his book upside down, and, second, when you sang your psalm he stumbled over the words. He has memorized some, but not all, and cannot read to jog his memory.’
And there was also the fact that most of the elegant, self-assured men in the priory would not seek out the company of grubby hermits, so Geoffrey could only suppose that Odo and his monks must want very badly to lay hands on the sky-stone, and thought earning Ivar’s gratitude for good food and comfortable lodgings was the best way to go about it.
Odo regarded him with an unfriendly expression. ‘He fits in well enough.’
Geoffrey changed the subject. ‘Just after Ivar shared his secret with Leger, Leger went out. When he returned, he began to be concerned about his safety. Where might he have gone?’
Odo narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you suggesting he told someone outside the priory about the sky-stone’s whereabouts, and that person began to threaten him?’
‘It is impossible to say without more evidence. Who might he have visited?’
‘Anyone!’ declared Odo, angry and distressed. ‘Perhaps he told Walter, because once the constable has the stone, he might leave the priory alone. Leger hated discord and might have gone to Walter in the hope that giving away the stone would heal the rift between us.’
