"Tomorrow!"
Guests were already arriving for the nuptials. The earl of Monmouth had moved into the hospital, using the private room next to Roland's. Lord William and Lady Philippa had had to remove to the Bell inn. Bishop Richard was sharing the prior's house with Carlus. Lesser barons and knights filled the taverns, along with their wives and children, squires and servants and horses. The town enjoyed a surge of spending, much needed after the disappointing profits from the rain-drenched Fleece Fair.
On the morning of the election, Godwyn and Simeon went to the treasury, a small windowless room behind a heavy oak door off the library. The precious ornaments used for special services were there, locked in an ironbound chest. Simeon as treasurer held the keys.
The election was a foregone conclusion, or so thought everyone except Earl Roland. No one suspected Godwyn's hidden hand. He had suffered one tense moment, when Thomas had wondered aloud how Friar Murdo got to know about the Isabella charter. "He can't have discovered it accidentally - he's never been seen reading in the library, and anyway that deed isn't kept with the others," Thomas had said to Godwyn. "Someone must have told him about it. But who? Only Carlus and Simeon knew of it. Why would they have let the secret out? They didn't want to help Murdo." Godwyn had said nothing, and Thomas had remained baffled.
Godwyn and Simeon dragged the treasure chest into the light of the library. The cathedral jewels were wrapped in blue cloth and cushioned in protective sheets of leather. As they sorted through the box, Simeon unwrapped some of the items, admiring them and checking that they were undamaged. There was a plaque a few inches wide made of ivory, delicately carved, showing the crucifixion of St Adolphus, at which the saint had asked God to grant good health and long life to all those who venerated his memory. There were numerous candlesticks and crucifixes, all of gold or silver, most decorated with precious stones. In the strong light from the tall library windows the gems glittered and the gold glowed. These things had been given to the priory, over the centuries, by devout worshippers. Their combined value was awesome: there was more wealth here than most people ever saw in one place.
Godwyn had come for a ceremonial crosier, or shepherd's crook, made of wood encased in gold, with an elaborately jewelled handle. This was ritually handed to the new prior at the end of the election process. The crook was at the bottom of the chest, not having been used for thirteen years. As Godwyn drew it out, Simeon let out an exclamation.
Godwyn looked up sharply. Simeon was holding a large crucifix on a stand, intended to be placed on an altar. "What's the matter?" Godwyn said.
Simeon showed him the back of the cross and pointed to a shallow cup-shaped indentation just below the crosspiece. Godwyn immediately saw that a ruby was missing. "It must have fallen out," he said. He glanced around the library: they were alone.
They were both worried. As treasurer and sacrist they shared responsibility. They would be blamed for any loss.
Together they examined every item in the chest. They unwrapped each one and shook out every blue cloth. They looked at all the leather sheets. Frantically, they scrutinized the empty box and the floor all around. The ruby was nowhere to be seen.
Simeon said: "When was the crucifix last used?"
"At the feast of St Adolphus, when Carlus fell. He knocked it off the table."
"Perhaps the ruby fell out then. But how is it possible that no one noticed?"
"The stone was on the back of the cross. But surely someone would have seen it on the floor?"
"Who picked up the crucifix?"
"I don't remember," Godwyn said quickly. "The situation was confused." In fact he remembered perfectly well.
It was Philemon.
Godwyn could picture the scene. Philemon and Otho together had righted the altar, setting it squarely on its platform. Then Otho had picked up the candlesticks and Philemon the cross.
With a growing feeling of dismay, Godwyn recalled the disappearance of Lady Philippa's bracelet. Had Philemon stolen again? He trembled to think how it might affect him. Everyone knew that Philemon was Godwyn's unofficial acolyte. Such a dreadful sin - stealing a jewel from a sacred ornament - would bring shame on everyone associated with the perpetrator. It could easily upset the election.
Simeon obviously did not recollect the scene exactly, and he accepted without