Chambers of Death

Chapter Thirty-Six

Constance lay on the chapel floor and clawed at the rough stone. Her nails might be ripped and bleeding, but she felt only the writhing agony of her soul. What should she do? Dare she speak out? Where did her duty to God lie?

“Lust,” she groaned. “All this has been caused by it. Punishment I may deserve, but surely my sins have been fewer than most. Do I not spend more time than other women on my knees in prayer? Did I not urge my husband to brighten the parish church with chalices and drape the priest in fine robes? Haven’t I valiantly fought for virtue, railing against festering sin, and did I not argue for abstinence in my marriage? And do I not loudly condemn the wickedness of creatures like Master Stevyn’s wife and the physician’s widow?” She turned her gaze to the base of the altar and cried out: “My mortal body may be sinful, but my soul is virtuous. I deserve better than this from You!”

From the soft shadows came a brittle laugh.

Constance fell silent, unsure she had heard that sound. “Who dares to ridicule my righteous longings?” she whispered. “If it is the Prince of Darkness, you shall not claim victory over my soul because of one little weakness, vile though it was!”

“One? You lie, Mistress,” the voice mocked, “and that is a black enough sin.”

Dragging herself to her knees, she turned and squinted into the darkness.

Nothing moved.

Had that been the voice of Satan, she wondered, her body trembling. Or did it belong to a mortal? The rasping sound was familiar, but she could not identify it, coarsened as the whispering was with cruel scorn. Surely it was the Devil, she decided. He was attempting to trick her, and she raised her chin in defiance.

“I do not understand what fiendish ploy lies in your accusation, Wicked One, but you know I tell the truth. Aye, I may have followed the adulterous wife more than once and watched as Tobye swyved her. But evil should have a witness, for it must not remain secret, and did they not couple like dogs or perversely with Eve above Adam?” Her voice hoarse, she licked her dry lips. “It sickened me!”

“Why then did you go to him and beg to be taken yourself in stable straw as filthy as your lust?”

Clutching her breast, Constance roared in protest. “Never did I grow so weak in flesh that I went to Tobye and asked…”

“Ask? Nay, Mistress, you did not ask. You beseeched him! Then, like any wanton, you dragged him down on you, spread your legs wide, and bucked…”

“A lie!” She threw back her head and wailed. “You mock me!”

“Do not deny what you did. Adam’s sons may be weak in flesh, but the progeny of Eve light Hell’s fire in men’s groins and drive them wild. Oh, didn’t you make the Devil dance that night with your writhing!”

“You and your imps had but little cause to frolic for that,” she whimpered.

Silence fell. Then the voice continued with a tremor. “You did not couple with the groom?”

“Surely you jest, Evil One! The night before Tobye died, I confess I hid in the stable, as I oft did, to watch him sin. But he caught me and, with harsh ridicule, accused me of watching him couple with women because I longed to join in the sport. Shamed by his discovery, I fled.” Taking a deep breath, she howled with profound misery. “Had you not entered his mouth and used his tongue to speak those vile insults, that low-born creature would never have dared utter such obscenities to a woman of my rank. How dare you continue humiliating me!”

“Why did you not return to your husband, chastened, and embrace him in the marital bed, as God allows, thus bringing the joy of male children?”

Her sole response was the shrill laughter of contempt.

The sound echoed in the darkness.

“Oh you adulterous whore! Perhaps you did not lie with the groom, but your body longed for his. Rather than welcome your lawful husband, you found wicked pleasure by watching others in unnatural acts. Was that not why you followed Mistress Luce to the stable last night, hoping to see her seduce another man into corruption?”

Constance rubbed her cheeks with her bloody fingers and moaned. Her guilt so overwhelmed her that it crushed a gnawing suspicion, tiny as a nibbling worm, that this voice belonged to a mortal.

“How did you learn she was going to meet another?”

“I overheard Mistress Luce…”

“And thus you ran after her, although you told all that you would spend the night in the chapel for solitary prayer. Jezebel!”

She swallowed with pain, all moisture vanishing from her throat.

“Your sins shall drag you down to Hell. Had you not lied and gone to the stable, you would not have seen the one she met and what happened-nor would you have been observed. Now is the day of reckoning!”

Constance tried to speak but managed only a croak.

The figure moved swiftly from the shadows.

Her eyes widened and terror froze her in place. Unable to scream, her mouth opened and shut like a gasping fish lying on a fisherman’s boat.

Clutching her shoulder, the man smiled-then plunged his dagger into the exact middle of her faithless heart.