"What makes you think the dispensation was fraudulent?" Father Henry asked.

"It is said to allow a minor baron to marry his son's widow," Brother George said.

"Is she rich?"

"Nay, far from it I am told" was the reply.

"I have heard rumors of bribery among the archbishop's minions," Father Henry said. "Such a thing is not unheard of. And those without means and influence are apt to fall victim to the less than honest in the minster."

"I'm certain the archbishop would not want a scandal, and the young woman involved is the goddaughter of Margaret of Anjou," Brother George murmured.

"And she has no fortune? Are you certain?" Father Henry was surprised. A goddaughter of an English queen surely was a woman of wealth.

"She was the daughter of the queen's physician. They were left behind at Wulfborn when the old king and his family fled north into Scotland. The physician died shortly after his daughter married the lord of Wulfborn's son. Then the groom died. There were no other children, and the lord took it into his head to wed his son's widow. She resisted and fled into Scotland. Her husband's people found her almost dead on the moors. Nursed back to health, she caught the laird's heart and they were wed. The laird had been a widower with one daughter. The child adores her stepmother, I have been told, and now there is a son and heir, and another child on the way."

"The archbishop would never countenance a match between a father-in-law and his son's widow," Father Henry said. "I will gladly help you, Cousin, to get to the bottom of this matter."

Brother George reached into his robes and drew out a small leather pouch. Taking a gold coin from it, he said, "My master would show his appreciation of your efforts with more than prayers. I can see your church needs certain repair, Cousin."

Father Henry did not demur. He took the gold coin. "This will repair the steps to the sanctuary and buy us a pair of silver candlesticks," he said. "I thank you, Cousin, and I thank your bishop. Come now and join me for supper."

The English priest was as good as his word. He went personally to the cathedral and began making discreet inquiries. A cousin on his mother's side was a nun and served as a housekeeper in the archbishop's household. She was a small, plump woman with a motherly face. He took Brother George to meet Sister Mary Agnes.

When she had heard his story she said, "My master, the archbishop, would never countenance such a dispensation. I have heard rumors of certain chicanery among some of the lesser priests in the archbishop's secretariat. I have a friend who can learn the truth of this matter for you," Father Henry's cousin said. "She will find out what has been going on."

"She? Another nun?" Father Henry asked.

"She is not a nun," Sister Mary Agnes replied. "She is a whore."

"Cousin!" Father Henry exclaimed, surprised. "How is it you came to know a whore? I am shocked you would be acquainted with such a woman."

"Do not be a ninny, Henry," the nun said. "Whores serve a purpose, as do we all. And as whores go, Lettice is a respectable whore, and she keeps a quiet, respectable house. She has regular visitors, among them some of the priests from the archbishop's secretariat. They come to flitter her and remain to talk with her. She can ask questions without anyone being suspicious, for she is considered both damned and beneath contempt."

"I don't know," Father Henry said slowly.

"I do," Brother George spoke up. "I would be grateful for your help, Sister Mary Agnes, and for that of your friend."

"She will want to be paid something for her trouble," the nun murmured.

"If she gains me the information I need, she will be well rewarded," Brother George promised, "and, of course, there will be something for your convent too."

Sister Mary Agnes smiled, saying, "You are most generous, Brother."

The whore, Lettice, knew immediately who it was who had elicited bribes from Sir Udolf. Eager to impress the whore, he had told her, for he had never before had the monies to ride between her legs and had been desperate to do so. "His name is Father Waiter," she told Brother George. "He enjoyed bragging to me how he had fooled the country priest and his master. He managed to make them pay him thrice before he wrote the document and used the archbishop's seal on it. But my testimony in the matter will not be heard, for not only am I a woman, I am a whore. I will be punished for slandering a priest and my possessions forfeit. I am not young anymore, and I have more than I ever dreamed of having. I will tell you the truth, but I will not endanger myself by accusing any priest."

"You will not have to," Sister Mary Agnes assured her friend. "They have the name of the priest now. Let them get him to confess to his misdeeds. When they have, you will be rewarded."

Lettice smiled, eying Brother George lasciviously. "Father Walter usually frequents a low tavern near the walls next to the main gate of the city," she told them. "He is there almost every evening after Vespers. He can no longer afford to lie with me, and the tavern wenches are always willing for a ha'penny or a penny to lift their skirts. He has a mighty appetite for a little man," she noted. "You'll know him right away. He is short, wiry, with dark eyes that are always darting here and there for fear of missing something."

The two priestly cousins went to the tavern in question that same evening. The tavern was dark. It stank of sour ale, urine, and puke. The wenches earned their coins in the open without shame. One girl was bent over a barrel near the tavern door, her skirt bunched up to the small of her back while a soldier thrust himself in and out of her, grunting as he moved. Father Henry swallowed hard, staring, but Brother George's eyes roamed the room seeking the man they sought. He found him quickly.

Father Walter sat in a corner of the tavern, a plump girl in his lap. His hand was beneath her skirt. After a few minutes Father Walter dumped her from his lap. She fell to her knees before him, and her hands slid beneath the priest's brown robe. Brother George could see her lips moving, and then after a moment or two the girl climbed upon the priest's lap, sheathing his cock in her lush body. She jogged up and down a few times and then fell forward briefly upon his neck. Then, getting up off of Brother Walter, she took a coin from his fingers and moved off, a bored look upon her face.

Brother George moved to the table and sat down. "Did she give you pleasure?" he asked the startled priest.

"I am a weak man," Father Walter said with a shrug, but there was no remorse in his tone.

"I am told you are a man who can get things done," Brother George murmured.

"For a price, anything in this world can be had." Father Walter chuckled.

Father Henry now joined them.

"My cousin and I have been told by Lettice the whore that you managed to gain a dispensation for a man who wished to marry his son's widow. Is this so?" Brother George asked softly. "If it is, I have a small proposition for you of a similar nature."

"Such things are expensive," Father Walter said slyly.

"My master can pay," Brother George assured him.

"What is it he desires, then?"

"For the church to dissolve his marriage to his wife of ten years. She is barren, and he needs an heir."

"Why doesn't he just kill her? By not giving him his heir, she is being disobedient. He could beat her to death, and no one would fault him as long as the stick he uses isn't any larger around then his forefinger. The law permits it."

"My master is a kind man. He simply wishes the church to dissolve his marriage to this woman. If the church will do it, then my master can keep her dower, which is very large," Brother George explained. "And he has already chosen a new bride. The girl's mother has birthed ten living children, six of them sons. This makes the girl a fine choice, for she is likely to be an excellent breeder. But others want her too. My master must act quickly. And too, the girl's father might be loath to give his daughter to a man who had beaten his previous wife to death."

Father Henry listened in rapt amazement as his cousin spoke to Father Walter. His story was plausible, and the mention of the very large dower portion had brought a light into the dishonest priest's eyes.

"Tell me," Father Walter said, "has this woman born any children at all?"

"None," Brother George replied.

"It could be said then she had refused to consummate the marriage," Father Walter suggested.

"No man would remain with a wife for ten years who would not consummate the marriage," Brother George responded. "Nay. My master wants the church to give him a divorce. His wife can end her days in a nearby convent. She is a devout woman."

"A divorce would take time," Father Walter said slowly.

"Is there any way such a matter might be speeded up?" Brother George asked innocently, and he smiled at Father Walter.

Father Walter appeared to be considering the matter. Then he said, "It is possible, but your master would have to make a rather large contribution to the archbishop's fund for Christian charity, I fear. Do you think he could afford it?"

Now Brother George appeared to be considering the matter. Finally he reached into the pocket of his robe and drew out the leather pouch. Opening it, he pulled out a gold coin and held it up in front of Father Walter's face. "Do you think," he asked, "this would begin the process for my master?"

"It would take at least five more of those coins," Father Walter said slowly, and he reached for the gold coin.

Brother George palmed the gold coin. "Three and first your guarantee you can get the process started. And I must have the documents within seven days."