Nicholai shrugs at Laithe's question, making the small effort seem debonair. Although the effect is somewhat ruined as he fails to hide his own second yawn.
"I don't know Laithe. It's not as if he up and told me 'Hey, your friend and I believe things that are currently considered popular heresy, how about you?'. Although he certainly hinted heavily enough. A suspicious sort might think that he was trying to draw out a confession."
He ponders while covering yet another yawn with his lace handkerchief.
"Despite that nagging possibility, I think that perhaps the best way to deal with the good Abbott is with the truth, carefully phrased of course. When next granted an audience I shall confess before being asked that we were indeed out and about tonight, as the story of the poor young monk both touched and bothered us. And then I shall explain why. Leaving out all of the troublesome details of course."
"In the meantime, I need my beauty rest. Wake me for the next watch Laithe, but I need some sleep if I'm to attend the early service to make a good impression on our host." He gives a wry grin and a small flourishing bow.
"Despite that nagging possibility, I think that perhaps the best way to deal with the good Abbott is with the truth, carefully phrased of course. When next granted an audience I shall confess before being asked that we were indeed out and about tonight, as the story of the poor young monk both touched and bothered us. And then I shall explain why. Leaving out all of the troublesome details of course."
"In the meantime, I need my beauty rest. Wake me for the next watch Laithe, but I need some sleep if I'm to attend the early service to make a good impression on our host." He gives a wry grin and a small flourishing bow.
"Strangely enough, I am tempted to agree. I have not felt the same malevolence here as in other places of Arton I have been, and other worshippers of Arton I've met. Still, tread cautiously as even if the Abbot does share a more liberal view, others may not see eye to eye with him."
Laithe bids the others good night and then settles in for his watch. He casually partols the corridor outside the rooms, keeping an eye and ear out for any signs of disturbance.
Once he has completed his watch (assuming nothing happens), he wakes Nicolai to take on the next watch and settles in to rest.
"If all else fails, I may be able to discretely charm one of the monks, or even Gugliemo, into adopting a friendlier disposition and sharing with us what they know. But that will all have to wait for the morrow... I can take third watch... Nicolai, if the music at the morning service is likely to be as beautiful as you suggested it was this evening, then please do wake me... I'm intrigued... And would also want to make a good impression, if some of these Artonites indeed are a more benevolent lot..."
Keildrithe wishes his companions a good night and heads back to his cheerless cell. At least its dry and sheltered from the winter wind, he thinks to himself.
Nicholai gives the bard a friendly smirk, but refrains from his usual sarcastic commentary. He raises as thoughtful eyebrow.
"I didn't ask if the singing of the verses was reserved for evening services, or the usual practice here. We can but hope! I'll see you in the morning then,..." He smiles,...
Nicholai wakes when gently shaken by Laithe, and gets up, willingly if grumpily, but keeps his blanket wrapped about him as he takes his place in the hallway. He walks back and forth, mostly to keep awake, and hoping the movement brings some relief from the cold that seeps into the stones at night. Occasional he practices walking as quietly as he can, trying to copy Pharris's light step and Keildrithe's silent tread,...
Pharris has seemed increasingly withdrawn since the group has entered the monastery. After the encounter with the two monks, she departs immediately to her room without further conversation, and responds to any entreaties with only a quiet, “Go away,” from behind the closed door.
Anastasia had wanted no part in the exploration and investigation earlier, but something about the encounter with the two monks or the subsequent discussion seems to disturb or interest her (though she will not be drawn on the subject). She does offer to stand the fourth watch after Keildrithe, a sign that perhaps she no longer feels so safe within these walls.
The night is dark and quiet – at first. Soon after Edmund and Gugliemo depart a few flakes of snow begin the drift down from the leaden sky ... it is not long before the flakes come in a flurry, and the wind begins to pick up, howling around the old stone buildings, driving the snow into drifts against walls and dropping the temperature even further.
Apart from the mournful cry of the wind and the biting cold, Laithe and Nicolai’s watches pass without incident. Towards the end of Keildrithe’s watch – perhaps two or three hours after midnight – the relative silence of the night is shattered by the sharp, metallic ringing of the church bell, a sound that will awaken all but the deepest and most determined sleepers.
'Wa?' Alton jerks awake, disorientated and confused as his mind fully wakes. Hearing the bells and noting the time he quickly sets about donning his leathers and gathering his weapons.
Keildrithe freezes in his steps when he hears the bell toll, and a deep shiver runs down his spine...
Laithe is awoken from his slumber by the clamour of the bells and instantly jumps out of bed and moves to the door opening it and looking out. Seeing Keildrithe in the corridor, keeping watch, he moves out to join his countryman.
"That wouldn't be normal would it? Surely the bell would not normally toll at this time of the morning. We should check it out..." He begins to head towards the bell tower, moving as quickly and quietly as possible, keeping to the shadows and watching for anything out of place.
Heading outside into the snow, you notice flickering candle light coming from some of the windows of the buildings around the cloister, and a few cloaked and hooded monks beginning to hurry through the cloister towards the church. The snow and the dark prevent you from making out much detail. There do not appear to be any lights in the church or the belltower.
"Go 'way,... Just another few minutes,... Wha,...?" Nicholai sits up, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He gets up and stamps into his boots (tucked under the blankets with him to keep them warm, thank goodness!) Dragging his blanket with him and holding his cane/club he peeks into the hallway. Seeing Laithe and Keildrithe he relaxes somewhat.
"What time is it?" He asks blearily, listening to the ringing of the bells.
"I don't, think, it time for early services yet. Even a monastery waits until almost dawn, don't they?" He mumbles. He stumbles blearily after Laithe, and the cold of the outside air slaps him into wakefulness with a shudder. Pulling his blanket tighter around him to ward off the biting cold, he heads towards the church, making no attempt at stealth, but looking around at the hurrying monks with a frown.
"Somethings, not right,..." He states the obvious with shivering dignity, then hurries to join the monks heading towards the church,...
Within a few minutes, Pharris and Anastasia have joined you at the doorway, both women rugged up against the cold and holding weapons.
By the time you trudge across the snow in the yard (a light dusting of the stuff coating your heads and shoulders) and into the cloister, a group of about a dozen monks stand outside the door to the church, many of them holding candles and in a few cases torches or lanterns. The door to the church has been opened, and a few have ventured just inside, looking over towards the back of the building where the belltower rises, but they appear hesitant to go much further.
One young looking monk, standing towards the back of the group, looks up at you from under his hood. “No-one should be ringing the bell this early,” he says, rather unnecessarily. “No one knows what is happening.”
Nicholai smiles politely at the young monk.
"Well then, someone should go and find out, shouldn't they?" He says with a patient smirk.
"Might I presume to borrow your candle? Ah, thank you very kindly." He grins as he plucks the candle from the surprised monks shivering hand. He makes his way to the door as if he belonged there, but stops just shy of actually entering and looks around at the presumably senior monks crowded around the doorway.
"Whose job is it to ring the bell? Normally?" He calmly asks with a raised eyebrow.
Keildrithe follows Laithe and Nicolai, dagger still concealed within his robes. He waits quietly as Nicolai speaks with the monks, but prepares to venture deeper into the church with the dandy-in-grey-robes. He looks around, trying to find anything that would strike him as out of the ordinary, or suspicious...
Nicolai, you recognise Brother Horatio’s ruddy face (rather bleary eyed at the moment) and stubbled head (he has his hood thrown back despite the cold) amongst the monks gathered just inside the door. He nods in recognition at your question. “That would be Brother Gugliemo’s duty, friend Nicolai,” the monk says. “He is a little ... simple, but he is good at that job, and has never rung the bell at such an odd hour before.”
You note that Brothers Anselm (the abbot) and Bernadino don't seem to have arrived as yet.
Keildrithe, you notice nothing obviously out of the ordinary (apart from the whole situation) here, although you notice the young monk who spoke to you seems to be eyeing your group closely. This particular monk appears to be fully dressed, rugged up against the cold (whereas many others are hastily wrapped in blankets) although his teeth chatter slightly.
Nicolai, you recognise Brother Horatio’s ruddy face (rather bleary eyed at the moment) and stubbled head (he has his hood thrown back despite the cold) amongst the monks gathered just inside the door. He nods in recognition at your question. “That would be Brother Gugliemo’s duty, friend Nicolai,” the monk says. “He is a little ... simple, but he is good at that job, and has never rung the bell at such an odd hour before.”
You note that Brothers Anselm (the abbot) and Bernadino don't seem to have arrived as yet.
Alton hurries to catch up to the others, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He eyes the group of monks for a moment before heading past them and into the church, looking around for the entrence to the bell tower.
Nicolai, you recognise Brother Horatio’s ruddy face (rather bleary eyed at the moment) and stubbled head (he has his hood thrown back despite the cold) amongst the monks gathered just inside the door. He nods in recognition at your question. “That would be Brother Gugliemo’s duty, friend Nicolai,” the monk says. “He is a little ... simple, but he is good at that job, and has never rung the bell at such an odd hour before.”
Seeing that the monks appear hesitant to enter, whilst not actually barring their entrance, Laithe makes his way into the church.
"If he's never rung the bell at this hour before, then something may be amiss and time could be important!" Laithe says as he moves past. He hurries over to the stairway that will take them to the belltower and begins hurrying up the stairs two at a time.
If something is amiss, he is also keen to get to the top and have a chance to see what has happened before the more senior monks arrive and (potentially) bar them from entry.
The last clamours of the bell have by now died away, allowing everyone to hear each other properly.
Behind the raised area where the church’s alter rests are several arched doorways. One of them, which appears to lead to the belltower, stands ajar. Stairs lead up and down, around the inside face of the square tower’s walls, with an open shaft in the centre of the stair well, no railing to it. Another door leads to the walkway at the back of the church – this is also open.
As Laithe heads through the doorway and races up the stone stairs, sharp eyed Keildrithe and Alton, following along behind, may notice a few small damp patches on the floor near the base of the stair and around the alter.
Open, narrow windows open onto the stair, admitting little light on this dark night, but some snow. Between the dark and the wet stairs, Laithe must slow his run lest he misstep and fall; nevertheless he makes it relatively quickly and safely to the belfry at the top of the stair.
The bell is now still, and a horrid sight meets Laithe’s eyes. A head hangs down from inside the bell. A body has apparently been tied upside down to the bell’s tongue. On the side of the bell, “Penance Is Done” is written in the Atuscan language in some glistening red liquid that drips slowly down the side of the bell.
Although the head is a bloody, pulped mess from being smashed repeatedly against the inside of the enormous bronze bell, Laithe recognises the clearly dead man as poor Brother Gugliemo.
In the main body of the church below, several more monks have arrived on the scene carrying lanterns and torches, including Brothers Anselm and Bernadino. The pair – with a dozen other monks in tow – head immediately towards the belltower.
Nicholai smiles as Laithe slips past him, and nods to Brother Horatio.
"Man has a point. Excuse us, won't you?" He asks smiling, and slips into the church without waiting for a response. He catches up to the druid as Laithe slows down to climb the steps. The appropriated candle making the upwards journey slightly safer, if no less cold.
The dandy follows the druid, holding the candle aloft with one hand, the other hand clutching his magical cane to his shoulder, ready for use. When they reach the top, and they take in the sight that the dim candlelight reveals to their searching eyes, Nicholai seems to deflate slightly.
"Ah. Ah no,..." Is all he mutters.
After a moment, he takes a deep breath and mutters only one word. "Wij'kan." Then begins looking around the belfry, deliberately looking at everything except the bell in the center.
The dandy is obviously distraught, and almost falls over the low railing around the bell,...
Keildrithe grits his teeth and clenches his fists as he feels rage welling deep within him. What action could have demanded this "penance" from Brother Gugliemo? What cruel soul would murder an innocent in this way? All of a sudden, Keildrithe begins to rethink the party's suspicions... Penance... this is an inside job, the job of some Artonite zealot, he thinks to himself, the whole situation inflaming again his hatred and mistrust of all Artonites, and brining back memories of friends and loved ones who had been lost or otherwise suffered in the name of the "benevolent one god."
I should slay every last one of these liars, fools and hypocrites and rid the world of their taint, he fumed inwardly, veins pumping in his forehead and face turning crimson, his last shred of self-control barely stopping him from lashing out with his still-concealed dagger...
Nicholai, hearing the entrance of what can only be authority figures (presumably the Abbott) from below, takes a deep and shuddering breath. When he speaks, it is clearly and coolly, his smooth and aristocratic tones sounding cold and uncaring in the light of this situation.
"Quickly, before the Abbot arrives and we have to deal with a completely different set of problems. Poor Gugliemo didn't tie himself up there. Any clues as to who did? I noticed the stairs were slippery on the way up. Presumably melted snow, but the bell was still,... ringing, when we reached the chapel. And I didn't see anyone leave. So how did he get past us and get out? Or is he still here? And Gugliemo didn't seem to be a lightweight. How was he trussed up there by a single man? Or how many did it take?"
Nicholai calmly taps his chin thoughtfully with the skull top of his crypt-acquired cane/mace.
"Gugliemo, whom did you cross? 'Penance'? For what, and to which monk?" He murmurs, unknowingly echoing Keildrithe's silent thoughts.
Nicholai seems calm, cold, almost uncaring in deep contrast to Keildrithe's barely bridled fury. But in the dim candlelight, his eyes almost seem to glow with a light of their own. It is not the fire of excitement, but the angry red glow of rage,...
Keildrithe, mind clouded by rage, has difficulty focusing on the details of the scene of the crime...
Nicolai and Keildrithe are both somewhat in shock (and saddened, or angry) at the scene before them, and have trouble focusing on the details. Keidlrithe does notice that the liquid the words are written in, despite being reddish, does not have quite the consistency or colour of fresh blood.
Nicolai and Keildrithe are both somewhat in shock (and saddened, or angry) at the scene before them, and have trouble focusing on the details. Keidlrithe does notice that the liquid the words are written in, despite being reddish, does not have quite the consistency or colour of fresh blood.
Reaching the top of the tower, Laithe has to battle to contain the contents of his stomach at the gruesome display. Knowing he can do nothing to help the poor Gugliemo, he immediately turns, nearly bumping into Keildrithe and Nicolai as they fly up the stairs.
"I want to check for tracks before the monks enter and trample any sign of where the killer has headed," he explains quickly as he hurries back down the stairs. "Keildrithe, can you help? Nicolai, I could use you to head off the monks and buy me some time to search." At the bottom, he begins searching the area for tracks.
Nicholai sends a comforting thought to his beloved companion. Undoubtedly his own emotions are confusing the poor half-celestial avian, smart as he may be.
'Stay. Safe. Warm. Watch.' Nicholai sends through his empathic link with Wij'kan.
The dandy nods almost absent-mindedly at Laithe's breathless words s he turns to give the belfry one last swift look.
Nicholai then turns to Laithe with his customary smirk.
"That, I can do. I'm nearly worthless up here at the current time. Perhaps later, once I've,... calmed down. But I can talk to the monks and give you time to search for a trail. I can promise, they will listen to me,..." He says with a smile that does not touch his eyes. Laithe and Keildrithe have never heard Nicholai sound, ominous, before.
Alton stands stunned for several moments, eyes fixed on the grisely sight, unable to look away. He fights the urge to vomit, gagging several times before finally shaking himself out of his trance he belatedly starts to search the top of the tower for any clues, having heard Laithe heading back down stairs.
Alton manages to clear his head and examines the scene with a detached and critical eye after his momentary horror passes.
He notices that there are bruises around Gugliemo’s thick neck, reminiscent of finger marks. He also realizes that the red liquid used to write on the bell is some sort of fragrant oil.
---
Laithe begins searching the area for tracks. There are some small puddles and damp patches on the floor around the base of the stair and around the alter area, similar to the ones you and the others left having just come in over the snow covered yard outside – melted snow. You can’t really make out the exact size or shape of the prints, but they appear roughly human sized. As near as you can tell, someone came in from outside, via the (open) back door, padded around the alter area, then headed towards the stair well in the belltower. You can’t really tell whether the prints also lead back outside the same way.
The abbot looks tired and worried as he heads towards the stairs, paying little attention to Laithe prowling around behind the alter. Bernadino on the other hand stares angrily at the druid as he approaches.
Nicholai watches Laithe begin searching the are, and turns his attention to the Abbott and other dozen monks who have just entered. He shrugs his shoulders, his aura of confidence settling around him like a cloak, and stands on the lowest stair. Not accidentally blocking it from use as he awaits the Abbott's approach. As the monks draw near, he speaks softly, but intensely and with authority.
"Abbot. We need to talk. Now."
The abbot looks tired and worried as he heads towards the stairs, paying little attention to Laithe prowling around behind the alter. Bernadino on the other hand stares angrily at the druid as he approaches.
Laithe nods in thanks at Nicolai's willingness to intercept the monks.
Down below he is oblivious of, Bernadino's angry stares as he continues to study the footprints left on the ground, trusting in Nicolai's ability to handle the abbott.
"Any idea's Keildrithe?" he asks his countryman quietly. "I can't tell which way the killer left by, assuming he came back down this way."
Unless Keildrithe can add any further insight, Laithe will hurry to the open back door and see if he can find any tracks in the snow heading away from the church. If not, he will search for the tracks heading into the church.
The abbot stops, and puts a hand up, a silent instruction for the monks with him to halt also (some of them, including Bernadino, look ready to push past). He looks up at Nicolai. “What is it brother?” he asks. “What have you seen above? Do you know why the bell was rung?”
Brother Bernadino starts to say something, his angry tone clear if his words are not, but Brother Anselm stops him with a gentle hand to the arm. The tall, skinny monk goes back to glaring, the target of his ire switching between Nicolai and Laithe.
Laithe meanwhile hurries out the back door. The door leads to a covered walkway behind the church – in one direction this walkway leads towards the scriptorium and library (connecting with the other covered walkway that the group traversed earlier in the evening), in the other direction it leads back to the cloister.
Beyond the walkway, snow continues to fall, blown into drifts by the howling wind. It seems likely that the falling snow would have obscured any prints, and it would take almost a miracle or a grand master to follow tracks on the hard cobbled surface of the walkway.
Fortunately for Laithe, either he is a grand master of tracking or he has just achieved his first miracle; as it happens, some snow has blown into the walkway, and there is some impression of prints here and there – they must be quite fresh, certainly made within the hour. There is really not enough information for Laithe to tell in which direction the tracks are heading, or what manner of creature made them – just a few scuff marks and disturbances in the thin dusting of snow here and there. They seem to lead in both directions along the walkway – both towards (or away from) the library and scriptorium, and towards (or away from) the cloister.
There appears little else to see up in the belltower , unless one wished to try to cut or untie Gugliemo’s corpse from the tongue of the bell.
Each of the belfry’s four walls bears a large, open, arched window (currently letting in the intense cold and some snow, as well as the wind which is strong enough at this height to blow around loose robes and hair, and even to cause the bell to clang softly from time to time at particularly strong gusts). The bell hangs on a thick rope from some heavy beams up above – this area is in deep shadow in the meager light of your candles.
The abbot stops, and puts a hand up, a silent instruction for the monks with him to halt also (some of them, including Bernadino, look ready to push past). He looks up at Nicolai. “What is it brother?” he asks. “What have you seen above? Do you know why the bell was rung?”
Brother Bernadino starts to say something, his angry tone clear if his words are not, but Brother Anselm stops him with a gentle hand to the arm. The tall, skinny monk goes back to glaring, the target of his ire switching between Nicolai and Laithe.
Nicolai, Bernadino is clearly angry, but he also appears anxious, concerned. Despite his calm demeanour, the abbot is also very concerned, worried. You notice that when he asked you what you had seen above, he (the abbot) glanced very quickly at a young novice by his side – the same young man who’s candle you took, and who had followed your group into the church, and watched as you all headed up the stairs. The novice gives the abbot a very slight nod.
Fortunately for Laithe, either he is a grand master of tracking or he has just achieved his first miracle; as it happens, some snow has blown into the walkway, and there is some impression of prints here and there – they must be quite fresh, certainly made within the hour. There is really not enough information for Laithe to tell in which direction the tracks are heading, or what manner of creature made them – just a few scuff marks and disturbances in the thin dusting of snow here and there. They seem to lead in both directions along the walkway – both towards (or away from) the library and scriptorium, and towards (or away from) the cloister.
Looking over his shoulder to where Nicolai converses with the abbott, Laithe weighs up his options. He knows he should wait for aid, but at the same time as the storm continues to howl outside, it would not take long for the last traces of the tracks to disappear.
He considers both paths, wondering which one the killer arrived by, and which they fled by. Pulling his cloak tight, he ventures out into the snow, following the trail while it lasts and hoping he'd chosen the right direction.
Moth, I'm assuming the Cloister is where the monks sleep? Laithe will head towards the library/scriptorium, assuming the killer grabbed Gugliemo from the cloister,and then fled to the library.
As he approaches any building, he will attempt to remain in the shadows as much as possible.
Though he would like to untie Brother Gugliemo from the bell tongue, Keildrithe decides to wait for the monks to arrive before doing so.
Laithe:
Although you can now only guess where the trail might lead (to or from) one thing does occur to you – for the falling snow to have hidden the trail so thoroughly suggests that this trail was made a while ago – probably more than half an hour ago, rather than the ten minutes or so since the bell stopped ringing.
Though he would like to untie Brother Gugliemo from the bell tongue, Keildrithe decides to wait for the monks to arrive before doing so.
Alton shares similar feelings to Keildrithe, wanting to remove the body to a more respectful position as quickly as possible, but not wanting to disturb the scene. So he waits in silence next to his friend, walking around the tower room to peer out each of the windows for any movement outside.
"So the killer came from this direction..." Laithe mumbles to himself, reaching the end of the trail and finding no remaining trace of further passage. He immediately turns and heads back the way they came, hoping to follow the trail in the opposite direction before it is wiped away completely.
As they near the church once more, he begins to wonder if the killer didn't simply head over to the cloister and join the monks at they gathered at the doorway to the church. He voices his thoughts to Pharris. "I wonder who was fist to arrive at the church?" Perhaps finding that out would shed some light on the killer's identity.
Nicholai takes in the monks with his gaze, his blood surging, he notices the monks interactions with almost crystal clarity. Almost instinctively, he reaches for the power that is his birthright, but instead takes a breath, and releases it slowly. After another moment of staring silently and rapidly weighing his options, just about the time that brother Bernadino opens his mouth to angrily speak, Nicholai shakes his head, very slowly.
"I am, truly sorry Brother. But poor Gugliemo is beyond anything but our prayers now." He says sadly.
Then the dandy leans in, and hisses in a voice that the three monks can scarcely hear, but in a tone that chills them more than the snow.
"And THIS. Was no. Suicide."
He holds up a commanding finger to forestall Bernadino, and asks the Abbott, very calmly.
"May we talk? Now?"
The abbot looks genuinely shocked and distressed. “Gugliemo? But ... why? How?” Suddenly he looks like an old man, leaning on the novice beside him for support. The novice’s face is white and his eyes wide. On the other side of the abbot, Bernadino’s face has also gone white. The other monks in the group gasp and whisper.
The abbot takes a deep breath and seems to get control of himself. “We may indeed talk; but you are a guest here, and the safety and wellbeing of the monks here, as well as that of the guests, is my first responsibility. If Brother Gugliemo is deceased I must see for myself and ensure that his earthly shell is treated with proper respect. And if, as you imply, he is dead at another’s hand ... I wish to see the scene before it is disturbed. I would not want suspicion to fall improperly.” He looks at Nicolai meaningfully. “Take me to him, and we shall talk once I know the situation firsthand.”
Nicholai nods in acquiescence of the Abbott's statements. He gestures for the Abbott to lead the way with a wry look.
"My companions are examining the area now." Nicholai indicates Laithe, and raises an eyebrow when he sees the Karand vanish out the back. "We disturbed nothing, and we will gladly assist you with brother Gugliemo." He says as he falls into place next to the Abbott.
The dandy looks as if he wants to say something else, but holds his peace and silently escorts the Abbott up the rickety stairs.
Though he would like to untie Brother Gugliemo from the bell tongue, Keildrithe decides to wait for the monks to arrive before doing so.Alton shares similar feelings to Keildrithe, wanting to remove the body to a more respectful position as quickly as possible, but not wanting to disturb the scene. So he waits in silence next to his friend, walking around the tower room to peer out each of the windows for any movement outside.
Alton, its hard to see much out the windows on this dark and snowy night – or hear much either with the wind howling about and swirling the snow this way and that.
"Well wouldn't you know," mutters Keildrithe to Alton. The reddish liquid used to write on the bell is holy oil -- sometimes used in place of holy water in the Artonite church."
He steps away from the bell, crosses his arms, and awaits the monks with a grim expression on his face. "I have a feeling that the demon may not be to blame," he continues, practically murmuring to himself. "This seems more like the work of some fanatical inquisitor, trying to cow any who hold heretical thoughts back into line. And while I doubt that Gugliemo could have been much of a heretic, he may have witnessed the assassin pushing that other young monk to his death..."