“Enter,” Prior Jacob called out, secretly glad to take a break from the accounts he’d been going over. He hated doing the accounts. Despite all his penny-pinching, the priory was not as prosperous as he would have liked, which would displease his superiors. The lion’s share of the income came from the production of sacred texts, but with only four scribes, the priory could only accept a few commissions per year. Prior Jacob exhaled angrily when he recalled the damage Edwin had done to a nearly completed manuscript. Friar Gregory had been able to salvage three-quarters of the manuscript by trimming a few millimeters off the top of the vellum pages where the spilled ink had tainted the manuscript. Thankfully, the ink had not penetrated any deeper since the pages were stacked and Friar Gregory had the good sense to immediately turn the manuscript upside-down to prevent the ink from running between the vellum sheets, dripping down onto the wooden table instead. Still, it would take an additional month, at the very least, to replace the pages that had been damaged beyond repair. Friar Gregory had complained bitterly and demanded that Edwin not be allowed anywhere near his work table again.

Prior Jacob looked up as Friar Matthew entered the study and shut the door firmly behind him. His expression told Prior Jacob everything he needed to know. Matthew looked upset, guilt-ridden, and excited at the same time. He was too young and innocent to even consider concealing anything from his prior, and not devious enough to warn Father Avery in advance, in exchange for some future favor. Prior Jacob hated to think that any of the brothers would, but he had to take human nature into account. Father Avery had the ear of the bishop, and to have favor with Father Avery might come in handy for a friar who wished to lodge a complaint or stand for the position of prior should Jacob either take ill or be ousted for any reason.

“Sit down, Friar Matthew,” Prior Jacob said, softening his voice. He didn’t relish upsetting the young man, nor did he hope to hear anything negative about Father Avery. What he wished was that the good father would simply take his leave and allow them to get on with the business of worship and work, with Prior Jacob at the helm of the priory as he was meant to be.

“Would you care for some mead?” Prior Jacob asked. Friar Silas brought a jug of mead not an hour since, eager for Prior Jacob to sample the latest vintage. A few barrels would remain in the cellars for the brothers’ personal use, but a good portion would be taken into town come market day, to be sold at a handsome profit. The funds would buy a new milk cow and several sacks of flour, which would be used to bake extra bread and make cheese for the poor, who came to the alms gate in record numbers this winter. Prior Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose and resolutely put the running of the priory out of his mind, focusing on Friar Matthew instead.

“Thank you, Prior,” Matthew replied, gazing with longing at the jug of mead. Prior Jacob poured him a cup, and took one for himself. He rarely drank mead, since it dulled his senses and made him feel pleasantly somnolent, but he suddenly longed for something to take the edge off and ease the tension building up between his shoulder blades. Prior Jacob took a sip, and then another, enjoying the deceptive sweetness of the drink. The alcohol content of Greyfriars’ mead was strong enough to fell an ox, if it got at an open barrel, so Prior Jacob resolutely pushed his cup aside and turned his attention to Friar Matthew, who’d finished his drink and was clearly hoping for a refill.

When none was offered, Matthew’s normally earnest gaze slid away from his prior toward the open window, where twilight had tinted the sky a dusky purple and the first stars were just beginning to twinkle in the darkening heavens. A soft breeze blew through the window, the ever-present smell of the sea dispelling the greasy stink of the tallow candle. Prior Jacob looked at the lad expectantly.

“I take it you saw something you wish to report?” he prompted when Matthew failed to speak.

“Aye, I did, Prior. Father Avery meets a woman twice a week.”

“To offer her spiritual guidance?” Prior Jacob asked, his lips twitching with amusement. That was the usual excuse priests gave when caught in the act. Besides, this wasn’t news. Friar Matthew had reported as much before.

“Tis not any guidance I’d ever seen offered by a man of the Church,” Matthew muttered.

“Does he lie with her?” Prior Jacob asked, needing to hear the words spoken out loud.

“Yes, he does.”

“And does he seem contrite afterwards?” Perhaps that was a foolish question, but it would make Prior Jacob feel better about Father Avery’s character. A man who was repentant was always worth saving. And now that he knew of Father Avery’s weakness, he could rest easy, since the troublesome priest would never be a threat to his position again. Prior Jacob could afford to be generous and understanding, even magnanimous in his forgiveness of the other man’s sins.

“No, Prior. He seems content, and woefully unashamed.”

“How can you tell?” Prior Jacob asked, genuinely curious as to why Matthew would make such a statement.

Matthew blushed to the roots of his hair and glanced toward the window again. “Father Avery is not shamed by his nudity, nor that of the woman. He likes to gaze upon her as she lies before him. He stands before her fully unclothed while he…” Friar Matthew nearly choked on the words.

“While he interferes with himself?” Prior Jacob offered helpfully.

“I suppose you could call it that.”

“And does the woman take pleasure in it as well?” Prior Jacob asked, suddenly uncomfortably aware of his own urges. He rarely felt aroused, but the image Friar Matthew was painting was surprisingly erotic.

“The woman is filled with sinful lust.”

“Do you know who she is, Friar Matthew?”

“I followed her home. She lives in one of the less prosperous sections of town.”

“I see,” Prior Jacob said. “Thank you, Friar Matthew. You were most diligent in your task. You need spy on Father Avery no longer, and I hope I can rely on your discretion.”

Friar Matthew nodded, but made no move to leave. Instead, he clasped the wooden cross hanging about his neck with both hands and fixated on the tips of his well-worn shoes, his head bowed. His tonsure glowed in the candlelight like the bottom of a newborn babe, and he muttered something under his breath, forcing Prior Jacob to lean forward to hear what he was saying.

“What is it, Matthew?” Prior Jacob asked, surprised by the young man’s behavior.

“There’s more, Prior.”

“What more could there be?” Was Father Avery seeing more than one woman? Prior Jacob wondered. It wouldn’t matter really, since although his sin would be compounded in the eyes of God, Prior Jacob had what he needed on the priest and wished to hear no more of his transgressions.

“The boy, Edwin, is this woman’s son, Prior. I heard Father Avery and the woman speaking of him when he escorted her home last week. Father Avery is the boy’s natural father.”

“What?” Prior Jacob cried. He’d suspected that Avery was succumbing to lustful urges, something that wasn’t all that unusual among members of the clergy, but to find out that he’d known this woman all throughout his priesthood and had fathered a child by her, a child who seemed to be afflicted with possible demonic possession, was news indeed.

“Are you sure, Friar Matthew?”

“Yes. I distinctly heard the woman say, ‘but Avery, he is your son, and you have a duty to him.’”

“Thank you, Friar Matthew. You have done me and this priory a great service. It is a sordid task you’ve had to perform, but you have done your fellow friars an inestimable service, and God will reward you for your honesty and devotion to his glory.”

“Yes, Prior,” Matthew mumbled. “May I go now?”

“Of course. And Friar Matthew, please make no mention of this revelation to the others. I must carefully consider a course of action before making this information public.”

Matthew looked as if the very last thing on earth he wished to do was discuss Father Avery’s proclivities with the other friars. He bowed his head, genuflected as he gazed upon the crucifix on the wall, and fled.

Prior Jacob reached for the jug and poured more mead into his cup. He brought the cup to his lips and drank deeply, his reservations about strong drink forgotten in view of Matthew’s confession. He’d hoped for something he could use against Father Avery should the priest wish to challenge the prior’s position, but he hadn’t bargained on a secret of this magnitude. Father Avery was clearly corrupt, and had been since the day he entered the seminary, and now his sins had been visited on his son, who was possessed of the devil. Prior Jacob didn’t need to consult the Scripture, the passages came to his mind unbidden, and were frighteningly appropriate.

“And they brought him unto him: and when he saw him, straightway the spirit tare him; and he fell on the ground, and wallowed foaming. And he asked his father, How long is it ago since this came unto him? And he said, Of a child.” Mark (9:20-21).

“Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.”

Prior Jacob finished his mead and hurried from the study, heading straight for the church. He needed to pray on this before he shared this foul knowledge with the other friars. He needed guidance and the light of God’s grace.

Prior Jacob’s head was bent in prayer as he knelt before the altar, speaking to God as if he were an understanding father. The prior never regarded conversations with the Lord as being one-sided. What many people failed to understand was that if one stopped talking and truly listened, God provided an answer. It didn’t always come immediately. Sometimes the answer came in the middle of the night — a rustling whisper in one’s mind — but as clear as a bell. At other times, the response came as an action or a comment from another person which seemed to directly answer the question Jacob had asked only a short while ago.

“Dear Lord,” Prior Jacob whispered. “It is my duty as the prior of Greyfriars and as a man who has devoted his life to your service to denounce Father Avery, but is it my duty in this case to accuse the child and condemn him? Is it not my holy responsibility to try to offer him protection and salvation? Can his soul be redeemed, or has evil taken root, the devil now in full possession of his soul?”

If that were the case, there would be only one path open to Prior Jacob. He would have to drive the devil out, and purify the priory which was now tainted by association. Prior Jacob hoped that God, in his mercy and wisdom, would allow him to save Edwin. He was hardly more than a child, an innocent vessel of evil, and an unwitting product of carnal sin. Prior Jacob’s head snapped to attention as he heard the slapping of leather against stone as several pairs of feet made their way down the nave toward him.

“Prior,” Friar Gregory cried out. “Prior Jacob, the boy Edwin has had another fit. It’s lasted longer this time. He’s possessed of the evil spirit, and something must be done at once.”

Prior Jacob rose laboriously to his feet. He assumed that Edwin had left for the day and no decision would need to be made tonight, but it was no later than five in the evening, and Edwin was evidently still at the priory.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and crossed himself as he gazed up at the serene countenance of Jesus Christ. Jacob had his answer.

“Where is Edwin now?”

“Father Avery offered to take him home. They left not five minutes ago,” Friar Oswald spat out. He was angry, his face florid with indignation. “We should go in pursuit.”

Prior Jacob raised his hand, palm out, signaling for the friars to calm down. “We will hold a meeting and decide on the best course of action together. There’s some information I must share with you all. Friar Owen, please advise the brothers that there will be a meeting after the evening meal tonight. Father Avery will be in the chapel, taking his turn at Perpetual Adoration, so we will be able to speak freely. I will remain at prayer until then.”

Prior Jacob returned to his cell and sank to his knees in front of the wooden crucifix affixed to the wall. He would have preferred to remain at the church, but knew that he would not be able to pray without interruption, and he needed to marshal his thoughts and give his full attention to the Lord. This was a serious matter, and even though God seemed to have made his position clear, Prior Jacob still wished to handle this matter with the utmost diligence. He remained immobile for over an hour, then genuflected and got to his feet. His knees were sore, and he was stiff with cold, but his conscience was clear. He knew the way forward, and would put his proposal to the friars directly after supper.

Prior Jacob waited until the monks finished their meal then took his place at the pulpit from which the scripture was read before every meal. He quickly but thoroughly outlined what he’d learned and then waited patiently for the uproar to die down. Some of the brothers were riled, their faces flushed with anger and disbelief. They called for drastic measures, which they wished to see carried out immediately. Others, like Friar William, remained quiet, their eyes downcast. Prior Jacob sympathized with their feelings.

“Brothers,” Prior Jacob called, raising his hands to ask for silence. “I have prayed on this matter, and I feel that it would be the right thing to turn this matter over to the diocese. The bishop can investigate the allegations and decide on a course of action. As an order of friars, I don’t believe it’s our responsibility to mete out any punishment to Father Avery or try to exorcise the demons that plague young Edwin. I ask for your support in this decision.”

Prior Jacob knew there would be dissent among the brothers since some would take a hard line, while others would plead for clemency, but hoped that common sense would prevail. They were an order of Franciscan Friars, not bishops, cardinals, or even priests. It wasn’t their place to hold a trial and condemn the accused. And he had no wish, perhaps selfishly, to take responsibility for what happened to father and son.

“And what of the woman?” Friar Gregory cried out. “Is she to avoid punishment for her sorcery? She bewitched a man of the cloth, and she belongs in Hell, as the Scriptures clearly tells us.

“Revelation 21:8: ‘But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death,’” he spat out, eyes blazing.

The hall exploded into chaos, friars quoting the scriptures at each other to support their points of view. Prior Jacob allowed them a few minutes before calling for order. He expected this kind of reaction to the news, but the vehemence with which some of the friars called for punishment surprised even him.

“Those in favor of turning this matter over to our superiors, raise your hands,” Prior Jacob said, praying that rational thinking would prevail.

“Those in favor of taking action against Father Avery, his woman, and their son, raise your hands.”

Prior Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. The vote was fifteen to eleven in favor of turning the matter over to the diocese.

“And so, it has been decided. I will write an account and deliver it in person to Bishop Harrington. Friar Matthew, I would ask you to write down what you saw, in your own words. The bishop will find it most helpful, I think. Now, let’s all return to our cells. I believe we can all benefit from a period of quiet prayer and contemplation.”

The friars filed out of the refectory hall. Some appeared to be relieved, while others grumbled beneath their breath, dissatisfied with the decision. They dared not say it out loud, but they thought Prior Jacob weak and ineffective. Perhaps Prior Jacob’s predecessor would have handled the matter differently, but as far as Jacob knew, he’d never had to tackle anything of this magnitude. Prior Jacob walked briskly back to his cell, all too conscious of the angry stares boring into his back. If this was a test of his ability to lead the brothers, then so be it. He would accept whatever the good Lord, in his infinite wisdom, saw fit to do.