Covenant With Hell

Chapter Twenty-one

Eleanor knelt beside her monk in front of the altar holding the Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock.

The woman who had accompanied her to the chapel finished her prayers and rose to find a quiet corner where she might breast-feed her querulous baby.

After her footsteps faded, the prioress whispered, “I must speak with you, Brother.”

“And I with you, my lady. The matter is urgent.”

“Give me your tidings first.” She looked around. “I see no one too near.”

“Gracia is outside,” he whispered, “but we must hurry if we are to speak with her. She is afraid Father Vincent will catch her.”

“By what miracle have you found the girl?”

“I saw her coming from the stable near the inn and called out. She motioned for me to follow her to a quiet street, and there I asked her to meet with us. She seems frightened, apart from her desire to avoid the priest, but would not explain why. I promised we would not endanger her.”

With an apology to God for failing to offer all the prayers she had intended, Eleanor rose to her feet and told Thomas to take her to the girl. “Did she tell you that I discovered her in the bell tower, Brother? I pray I have gained her trust, but fear otherwise. She disappeared before I could ask her everything I needed to know.”

“She is clever at hiding, my lady, but she trusts you. She insisted that you be with me if she were to tell her tale.”

When they reached the chapel door, Brother Thomas cried out in dismay. The child had vanished.

“I do not see Father Vincent,” Eleanor said, gazing down the road toward the priory, “but something must have frightened her away. I doubt she will risk her safety and meet us again.”

Thomas looked in the opposite direction. “There! She beckons,” he said and rushed away.

Eleanor glanced nervously behind her where the young woman was crooning to her baby while she nursed him in the chapel shadows.

She knew she should not follow her monk alone down the backstreets of Walsingham without proper attendance, but she dared not take a stranger with her lest Gracia flee. If she did not go to the child now, the girl might never help them resolve vital problems, and another murder might be committed. Brother Thomas could not pose all the questions needed because she had not had the time to tell him what she had learned.

Afraid to disobey the rules of her calling, but equally dreading the consequences if she did not, Eleanor hesitated, took one step toward the young mother, then made up her mind not to summon the woman. “May God forgive and protect me,” she murmured. If He was kind, the mother would be so occupied with her babe that she might not even notice the prioress’ absence.

Picking up her robe so she would not trip on the hem, the Prioress of Tyndal raced down the street after Brother Thomas.

Still ahead of the pair, Gracia veered off the main road and entered a dark street-one that was empty, narrow, and stinking of urine and garbage.

Please stop, Eleanor silently implored the girl. In this less than salubrious part of town, where residents did not pay for cleaner streets, she was grateful for the company of her tall monk.

Gracia waved the pair to a dark niche between two buildings.

Eleanor looked up and shivered. One of the buildings leaned ominously. Should her transgression in disobeying the restrictions of her vocation be deemed wicked enough, she would die with all her sins still upon her if that structure collapsed on her. Silently, she begged God not to punish Gracia and her monk for an offense that was hers alone.

“Why did you flee, child?” Thomas crouched by her side. “Speak quickly,” he whispered. “My prioress should not be on these streets, but she comes out of love for you.”

Gracia’s face was pale. “I thought I saw the merchant in the street, Brother, the one who hurt me.” She pulled on his sleeve until he bent his ear to her mouth. “If you need to find me again, the stableman for the inn has now taken mercy on me and lets me sleep in the straw of the loft when there are few horses and only he is there.”

Eleanor felt her face grow hot with anger. “Has this vile creature done you any further harm?”

The child shook her head, but her gaze never left the ground.

Eleanor was not convinced that Gracia was telling the truth, but she sensed the girl did not fully trust anyone enough to confide her vulnerability. Kneeling on the other side of the child, the prioress took her hand. “What more have you to tell us? You told me in the bell tower that Father Vincent knew Master Larcher met Sister Roysia there and abetted their encounters.”

Thomas stiffened in shock.

“According to one of the women who shares my quarters,” Eleanor said to him, “there are rumors that Master Larcher was the nun’s lover. Some also say that Father Vincent was as well. With all that has been happening, this is the first opportunity I have had to tell you.”

He was stunned into silence.

Eleanor wondered if he thought the priest incapable of the sin of lust or had some other reason for such dismay.

“I do not believe Sister Roysia met with the merchant for any wicked purpose, my lady.” Gracia’s eyes never stopped scanning the area despite the presence of her two protectors.

“Tell us more about Father Vincent,” Thomas hissed.

Gracia turned to him. “After watching the craftsman lower himself from the bell tower and flee to the top of an empty house, the priest caught Master Larcher climbing down the ladder into the garden behind. He made the merchant confess he had been meeting Sister Roysia, and I overheard the priest threaten the man with exposure unless he paid for his silence. He said the prioress would refuse to buy his badges if she knew of this.” The child’s lips twitched up briefly. “Father Vincent did not say it was payment to him. He called it a donation to the Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock in expiation of his sins.”

“Did the priest see you, child?” Eleanor had not released the girl’s hand and wondered why Gracia continued to look around so fearfully. She looked behind her but saw nothing that would trouble the girl.

“They both did, and that is the reason Father Vincent hates me,” she replied. “I laughed and he caught me. I swore I would say nothing. How he gets alms for his shrine is none of my affair. Yet he chose not to believe I would keep my word and has since threatened me with hellfire and rocks. When he caught the man raping me, he used that as his excuse to discredit anything I might say. Now I no longer believe I need keep silent.”

Thomas looked at his prioress with a sorrowful look.

“You have said you do not think the merchant and Sister Roysia were lovers,” she said. “Can you confirm or deny whether she and the priest were?”

“Sister Roysia did not couple with the merchant when I saw them, nor do I think she would commit that sin. She was a most devout nun, charitable and kind. As for the priest, she never would lie with him even if the Devil tortured her.” She glanced over at the monk. “She did not like Father Vincent.”

Thomas sighed. “A wise as well as a most virtuous woman.”

“Did the priest know they were not meeting to lie together?” Eleanor saw the child’s eyes widen slightly and knew the cause was not her question. She glanced over her shoulder. Although she thought a shadow moved, she did not see anyone in the narrow street. Squinting to focus, she decided the movement had been imagined.

“Master Larcher did not argue when Father Vincent accused him of that sin.”

“Whatever their purpose was in the bell tower, I think it odd that the craftsman would not protect the nun’s reputation,” Eleanor said. She shifted her position. “You overheard some of their conversations. Why did they meet in such a strange way and in the tower?”

“Sister Roysia heard many things in Prioress Ursell’s chambers, my lady, when visitors came. The nun said that secrets were often whispered while she waited just outside the door on those occasions the prioress was briefly called away. I do not know how she and Master Larcher knew each other. They did not behave as kin, but they were worried about a rumor that an attempt on the king’s life was being planned when he came to Walsingham. Before her death, Sister Roysia told the craftsman that an assassin was nigh. Master Larcher begged her to send him word the moment she found out who the man was.” She looked from one to the other. “Perhaps you will know better than I what he meant when he said: ‘I must send word to my master.’”

Speechless with horror, Eleanor and Thomas stared at each other.

“She gave her word but died soon after.” Gracia suddenly stood up, pulling away from the pair. Her next words came in a rush. “I never again saw Master Larcher in the bell tower. Maybe the nun was hoping to meet him the night she fell to her death. Perhaps she learned who the slayer is. I do not know.” Without warning, the girl fled into the darkness between the two buildings.

Eleanor and Thomas leapt to their feet and spun around. The monk stepped in front of his prioress, but she managed to peek around him.

The only thing they could see in the gloomy street was a trotting dog in search of scraps. Not far from where the two stood, he stopped at a narrow opening and sniffed, then began to growl.

They did not move.

The dog spun around and ran toward the more traveled road.

Nothing in the shadows moved.

Thomas gestured to the prioress to remain where she was with her back protected by the building. Then he edged along the walls toward the spot where the dog had stopped. When he reached the place, he jumped in front of the opening, his fists clenched in defense.

Eleanor’s heart pounded like a drum.

Thomas dropped his hands and leaned into the space to look around. Finally, he walked back to her.

“There is nothing there,” he said when he reached her side.

“The dog saw something,” she said.

“It might have been a rat, my lady, but I think we should leave now.” Thomas whispered. “I do not like this place.”

“Nor do I, “she replied, “and I do not believe the dog saw a rat.”

He bent his head in the direction Gracia had disappeared. “Is the child safe?”

“I pray she is. As for anything overheard, we all spoke too softly.”

“I do not know what caused Gracia to flee.” He looked back at the narrow space and thought for a moment. “Do you think Master Larcher might cause her harm? He knew she had witnessed the encounter with the priest.”

“And she was present when he met with Sister Roysia.”

“And thus the girl knew he was seeking an assassin. The merchant might choose to kill any witness to these discussions, especially a street child who could earn coin by telling enemies about his work.”

“We must find a way to keep her safe, Brother. She also fears her rapist. I did not believe her when she said he had caused no further grief.”

Thomas nodded. “First, let me accompany you back to the priory.”

“After stopping at the chapel where I hope the young mother and her child still wait for me. I pray the babe distracted her enough to forget I was even there.”

When they reached the road that went by the chapel, he hesitated to look over his shoulder and mark the spot where the dog had growled and the alley where Gracia had disappeared.

“Do not seek evil spirits alone, Brother,” Eleanor said, almost putting her hand on his arm but quickly drawing back. “I fear for your soul if you do.”

“I obey, my lady,” he said, but his expression suggested he longed to do otherwise.

***

As the pair disappeared into the Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock, a figure slipped out of the dark street they had just left and into another narrow space between two buildings that had a view of priory and chapel.

When the prioress, monk, and nursing mother reappeared, the phantom watched, until they reached the door to Ryehill Priory, then stepped deeper into hiding and became one with the shadows.