Abbot Gunter had been busy in his chambers, overlooking the wool profits accounting roll, when his door burst wide open. Brother Æthelwine and Brother Wulfric came storming in. Brother Benet followed, flicking his fingers and flapping his hands. Abbot Gunter internally groaned. Whenever Brother Æthelwine and Brother Wulfric came into his chambers unprompted, it usually meant they were about to accuse each other of some perceived crime the other had committed. If they managed to drag another monk along with them, that meant they had evidence….or what they thought was evidence. 

“Sir!” Brother Æthelwine shouted, “We need to talk to you!”

“It’s urgent!” Brother Wulfric nodded.

Gunter looked back down at his accounting rolls. “Unless it has to do with a murder, fire, or the scriptorium, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Sir, sir, it has to do with the market!” Brother Benet flapped his hands, “Show him, show him!”

Brother Wulfric hissed, “Hush!”

“Don’t tell him about the marketplace!” Brother Æthelwine muttered.

“Why not?”

“Did you take Brother Benet to the market without my permission?” Abbot Gunter asked.

“They said you said I could go with them,” Brother Benet flicked his fingers.

Before Abbot Gunter could give the older monks a proper scolding, Brother Æthelwine took a piece of parchment out of the pouch on his belt. He slammed the parchment down on the paper.

“Behold!” 

Abbot Gunter raised an eyebrow before looking at the parchment. In the middle, was a tiny swatch of blue pigment. The blue was rich and deep. It was the colour of the ocean, the sky after the sun had set but before the heavens grew black, it was the colour of sapphires his brother, the Archbishop of Jorvik wore. It was the bluest blue Gunter had ever seen in his life. And he needed more of it.

“What is this?” Gunter asked.

“Ultramarine,” Brother Wulfric said. “And a Saracen merchant is willing to sell us more of it if we buy it by the end of the week.”

“I sent you to the market to buy pigments today,” Abbot Gunter said. “Why didn’t you buy any then?”

“We didn’t have enough money, sir,” Brother Benet said. “Not if we were going to buy it and the other pigments we need.”

“How much is it?”

Brother Wulfric spoke the price.

“WHAT?!”

His three monks nodded.

“That expensive?! How much would we get?!”

Brother Æthelwine spoke the amount.

“For that little?!” 

His three monks nodded.

“Damn,” Abbot Gunter fell back in his seat. He looked at the parchment. Ultramarine would look stunning in historiated initials. It would give any illumination of the Virgin Mary the colour she needed to properly portray her holiness. The psalter he wanted to have illuminated for his personal collection would look tremendous. He could charge extra to use it for clients’ manuscripts. He could charge a lot extra. More than enough to cover the money he had to pay to the village after Brother Wulfric escaped on the last full moon and ate a few villagers’ sheep before the sun rose and his reign of terror ended. Gunter picked up his accounting rolls. They really didn’t have much to spare this month if they were also going to keep out of debt. Not for that amount. And not for that price. 

“Fuck.”

“Why are you saying that?” Brother Wulfric asked. 

“We can’t afford to spend that much. Not when there are other perfectly good pigments out there that look practically the same.”

“That is bullshit and you know it!” Brother Wulfric and Brother Æthelwine shouted in unison.

“I cannot justify going into debt for ultramarine. Why is it even that expensive in the first place?”

“The merchant said that it comes from the East!” Brother Benet exclaimed. “He said it only comes from one mine! And that the process to make the lapis lazuli into the pigment takes a really long time.”

“He did,” the older monks confirmed. 

Abbot Gunter looked back at the parchment. It truly was beautiful. “Perhaps, we can negotiate with him.” 

“We tried,” Brother Benet said. “He said no. Not even when Brother Wulfric and Brother Æthelwine offered to sin with him. He still said no. Then Brother Wulfric threatened to eat him and Brother Æthelwine threatened to give him elf shot.” 

“Shut up!” The two older monks shouted.

“We told you that the good Abbot Gunter doesn’t need to know the details.” Brother Wulfric hissed.

“Lying is a sin,” Brother Benet said.

“And so is threatening merchants,” Abbot Gunter sighed. He threw his head back and groaned. He probably could have negotiated something with the merchant, had not his idiot monks attempted to seduce and then threatened the merchant. “You will both be whipped for attempting to break your vow of chastity and then threatening people. It makes us look bad.”

“What if we can get the ultramarine?” Brother Wulfric gave the abbot a smile. It was intended to be dashing, but his sharp canine teeth made it almost threatening instead. “Would you consider it then?” 

“How do you intend to acquire it?” Abbot Gunter asked.

“Through a perfectly legitimate means!” 

“Brother Wulfric, if you steal it, the merchant will know it was you.” 

“Who said anything about stealing?” Brother Wulfric blinked innocently. 

Gunter gave his monk a very annoyed look. Brother Wulfric shrunk back slightly. 

“And if you do steal it, I shall allow the secular law to do what they like to you.”

“As a monk, I have the right to a church trial!” 

“You do, but I won’t protect you from the merchant when he comes knocking on my door with a swarm of angry farmers who want your blood.” 

Brother Wulfric shrunk back more. Abbot Gunter looked back at the parchment.

“Did the merchant say how long he was staying in the village?” He asked.

“A week, sir,” Brother Benet said. “He said he wanted some fresh air and to be out of the city. I told him that that was a good idea and that the village has a nice inn. He smiled at me and said I was smart.” The young monk flapped his hands. 

“Was this before or after these two threatened him?”

“After. I waited for them to walk away a little bit before apologising for them and telling him how nice the village is. We had a nice conversation.” Brother Benet paused. “Did I do the wrong thing?”

“No, not at all.” Abbot Gunter stood. He was in doubt that the merchant told Brother Benet the truth about how long he was staying, but if the merchant did indeed have a nice conversation with the young monk, perhaps if Abbot Gunter also apologised, he could negotiate a good price.