The Prophecy - 6. Chapter 6

Simon arrived at Paris. He led the mare down the cobbled streets that were crowded although night had already fallen. This, Simon knew, meant that the king, Henri I, was currently residing in Paris. Merchants had come to the town in order to sell their goods and buy others, and all of them hoped to make a good bargain. Simon looked around. Many booths and market stalls were still opened and people were bargaining with the merchants. Simon had witnessed this as a boy when he had come to Paris with his father. He felt a twitch in his stomach. Was his father around? Had he come to Paris as well? Should he look out for him and join him? This would be very unwise, Simon admitted to himself. His persecutors would question his father also, either here in Paris or in his hometown. It was best he hid and did not attract attention. It was best to leave Paris again very soon.

Simon stopped and looked at the booths. If he wanted to hide, then he had to change clothes. He had to get rid of the monk’s robe and travel on in disguise. But he had no money and nothing to trade for. So what could he do? Simon stopped short. The abbot’s mare was an object of exchange, a precious horse, worth at least a few silver coins. But where could he trade the mare? Offering it on the official market was far too dangerous. The deal would attract attention. He couldn’t afford being the centre of interest. He had stood in the same place far too long already. Simon walked on.

He pondered. He needed to go to the shady quarters of the town that he once had visited with his father when they had desperately been looking for a cardinal red piece of cloth that a noble woman had ordered. His father had sought out a shady trader and the man had offered him a cardinal's robe, which his father had ultimately bought. It had cost him a few silver coins, but he had told Simon that it was a good deal as he was certain that the lady would pay him in gold. Simon had asked whether it was not a sin to buy a churchman’s robe. His father cited the holy words that Jesus Christ Our Saviour had once said: And if you don't have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one! Instead of a sword, we could buy a pig and roast it on a pit, his father had said. His father’s wise words had convinced Simon.

Simon reached the shady quarters of Paris. They were less crowded, but a few people were already sneaking about in hope for a good bargain. The streets and lanes would fill later at night when fewer watchmen were around and illegal bargains were less dangerous. Simon had walked down the street only halfway, when a haggard man addressed him.

"Are you looking for something special?" the man whispered, eying the abbot’s well-fed mare. "I can help you," he said in a flattering voice that could not deceive Simon.

Simon saw the greed in the man’s eyes and also his intention to cheat him. The man was in desperate need of money or something he could trade it in for. Simon knew that the dealers waited patiently for their victim to seek them out. They all cheated people, but they did not rob them from their treasures. Simon shook his head and moved on, ignoring the man who followed him and kept talking to him. After a few steps, the man stopped. Simon guessed that he had entered another man’s bargain territory. He walked down the street slowly, watching the sides of the streets out of the corner of his eye. All remained quiet, but he knew that everybody had taken notice of him and his intention to sell a stolen horse. It was as clear as day to everybody, Simon knew, that a simple monk would never call a fine horse his own. He turned around at the end of the street and walked it up again. If any of the dealers were interested in the deal, then he would see them now furtively lurking in the shadows. He saw a stout man with a devilish grin who stood in a doorway eying him. Simon moved on and saw a shady man in a black cloak, leaning against a wall and fixing his eyes on him. Simon glanced at him briefly, and then moved on. Nobody else showed any interest in him.

He had almost reached the place where the first man had addressed him. Simon was thinking. Three men only were interested in the deal, which did not really surprise him. Buying the precious horse was a risk, and selling it even more so, unless the men could rely on a safe underground network. If the stolen mare was found by its righteous owner, then the dealer could be easily found. Simon doubted that the man who had first addressed him had an underground network that helped him sell off the mare in secrecy. He also disliked the stout man with the devilish grin. Simon came to a decision. He turned his eyes to the man in the black cloak and quickly approached him. The man straightened promptly. They exchanged a look, and then the man made a gesture with his hand and invited Simon to follow him. He led him down a deserted alley and then they entered a shady back yard. The man called out a command and a torch was brought by a young man. The dealer examined the horse carefully.

"Four silver coins," he said finally. "Or copper coins worth the same, if you prefer."

"Copper," Simon said.

The man cast him a knowing look. "Left the cloister?" he asked, stating the obvious.

Simon did not reply.

"In need of new clothes, a robe and a cap?" the man asked, patting the horse’s neck.

"Yes," Simon said, giving a nod.

"I’ll see to it," the man replied. He turned away and spoke to the youth.

The young man handed the torch to the dealer and then left the back yard quickly.

"I’ll offset it against the amount for the horse," the dealer said to Simon. "He’ll be back in short. You can change clothes here. I’ll dispose of the monk’s robe. Don’t bother."

They waited until the young man returned with a pile of clothes, garments, a robe, a cap, and leather shoes, all shabby and worn. Simon took the parchment from the saddlebag and then started to change clothes. The dealer went inside and the young man led the abbot’s mare away. Finally, the dealer returned with a small leather bag on a cord. He opened it, took the copper coins out, showed them to Simon and counted them. The man looked up and Simon gave a nod. The dealer put the coins back into the bag and handed it to Simon. He gave him a piercing look.

"The horse is precious. They'll look for it, but they will not find it," he said. "Too many men have seen you and the horse. Better leave while it is yet time."

Simon modded. The dealer turned away and entered the house. Simon stood for an instant, glancing around in the dark yard. Then he pushed up his upper robe and fastened the cord with the bag around his waist. His upper robe had a false pocket where he could reach in and seize the bag, which of course he would never do in public. He left the back yard and hurried down the lane in the opposite direction of where they had come from. Simon felt driven. He was in a desperate hurry. He needed to find a safe place or shelter where he could figure out where to go in the dead of the night.

He sat down on a door sill in an empty lane and pulled cheese and bread from the bag that he had stolen from the monks. He chewed on the stale bread and pondered on what to do next when suddenly yells interrupted his thoughts. He startled and his muscles tensed, but he relaxed when he heard more yells that were followed by cheerful laughter. Simon recognized the sounds. A spectacle. A fair was not uncommon in spring. Following an impulse, Simon changed his plans. It was far too dangerous to travel by foot at night and without company. He would only be the target of rascals.

He rose to his feet. Better join the crowd and hide among the people, he told himself as he walked up the lane. He went in the direction of the yells and the laughter and soon found the market place that was illuminated by torches. A few men, dressed in colourful clothes, juggled with balls and rings on a primitive stage. The crowd watched the men and cheered on them. Simon joined the people and watched the spectacle. He was engrossed and for some time he forgot about the monks and the cloister and the predicament he was in. Reality, however, caught up with him.

The jugglers had just left the wooden stage when the people fell silent and the atmosphere on the place grew tense. Simon turned his head and winced at the sight of four Benedictine monks, Black Monks, on horseback who had entered the place. Their black hoods hid their faces, but Simon had no doubt that they had come from St. Denis. He recognized the abbot’s black stallion that one of the men was riding. The other three horses were the abbey’s workhorses. The black monks had come and were after him.

The crowd parted. The people shied away from the riders as a menacing aura emanated from them. Silence hung over the place as the Black Monks moved on slowly. Simon hid behind a wooden pole, which he was aware did not suffice to hide him from the men's sight. They had found out about the missing horse and had waited for the group to return from their search in the forest. And then the abbot had chosen four men and had sent them after him. The stout man on the stallion was not the abbot. Brother Nicholas, Simon realized. Brother Nicholas was the only stout man in the cloister. The other monks were all thin and haggard men.

The riders crossed the place. Simon retreated farther. He hid behind a tall man and did not move. Were they able to spot him in the crowd and in the dim light? Simon watched the riders out of the corner of his eye. The Black Monks crossed the market place slowly. They rode one after the other, a sinister alliance, scary and angst-inducing. They finally left the market place and entered an alley. They disappeared and left an aura of danger and menace. The people gathered again, but many left soon because the buoyant spirit was gone. Only a small group remained in the place and called out for the jugglers who reluctantly resumed their game. Simon left the place also.

He sat down on a door sill again and looked down the deserted lane. It was late at night and it had gotten chilly. Simon was scared. Why had the abbot sent four men? Would not have one or two men sufficed to track him down and seize him? He leaned back against the wooden door and looked up at the nightly sky. The light of the moon was creepy and cold. What was their intention? What did the men want? Seize the parchment and hide it again? Simon shuddered at his next thought. Did they want the end of the world to come about? He lowered his eyes. Were these men in league with the devil?