32

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Black clouds from the sea covered the blue sky in mourning. The sun hid, and grey shadows slipped into the audience chamber, bringing their attendant gloom.

Adelard knelt before Prioress Eleanor and Prior Andrew. The youth’s eyes were red from weeping, and his hands shook as he positioned them into a prayerful attitude.

Andrew looked down at the lad, his expression a blending of dismay and sorrow. “We shall pray for your father’s soul, my son,” he said and then stopped as if thinking how he might best continue. “If his heart regretted the sins he committed, God will judge his soul with greater mercy.”

The young man shook his head. “Your kindness is beyond my ability to repay. For all of my life, I looked to my father for guidance and tried to honor him as we are told we must.” He stopped, unable to find words that would express what he might, or ought, to feel.

“However, his sins belong to him alone,” Prioress Eleanor said. “It is your duty to confront your own, as each of us must do.” She nodded at her prior.

“Confess fully, follow the wise guidance offered, and beg for the strength to become a more compassionate and virtuous man.” Andrew glanced back at his prioress with a doubtful look.

“I did help him in his thefts.” Adelard spread his hands in a gesture of despair.

“At his command, an order you felt bound to obey. The crowner has agreed not to charge you as long as there is proper recompense for the crime.” Eleanor emphasized the last phrase.

“What can I do about the stolen goods? I do not know the names of those from whom the items were stolen. Some have been melted down beyond recognition. Most have been turned into coin.”

Eleanor indicated that he should rise. “All coin must be given to the poor and suffering. Mistress Signy knows best where help is needed. Take it to her, as much as you can garner, for almost all your father’s wealth was gained from stealing.”

“The golden candlestick?” He staggered to his feet and looked away, unwilling to look the prioress in the eye. “Shall it not be placed on the priory altar to honor God, as my father promised? It was to be my gift when I took vows here.”

“We shall not accept it,” she replied, her tone sharp. “It is tainted with blood and offered in sin. It, and the few remaining items, will be sent back to the Jewish community in Norwich. Master Tostig can sell the melted gold and return the profit there as well. In doing all this, you earn a pardon for the crime you committed at your father’s behest.”

“Then I have no hope of entering Tyndal as a novice!” His words ended with a cry of pain.

“Are you sure your vocation is your own and not a shadow of your father’s old longing?” Prior Andrew leaned against the window and looked out across the priory lands toward the forest where Brother Gwydo had died.

“I have a true calling!”

Eleanor’s smile lacked warmth. “That assertion we must carefully test with more rigor than we were obliged to apply before your father’s death. Under the circumstances, we have no choice.”

“I swear to do anything, my lady.” Once again, he fell to his knees.

“You have much penance to fulfill for yourself.”

“I have confessed fully to Brother Thomas. My errors may have been sins, but they share guilt with good intentions. He said that he would leave the method of expiation to you both.”

“Should you agree with this proposal, I am sure that Brother Thomas would concur that these acts will cleanse your soul and prove whether you have a genuine vocation.”

He nodded eagerly.

“Do you not have a brother who is still a child?”

As if he had forgotten all about him, Adelard looked confused, then confirmed that he did possess a younger sibling.

“Were you to enter the priory now, he would have no one to feed or cloth him.”

“God takes care of sparrows,” the youth suggested hopefully.

Andrew spun around and glared. “God did not suggest that we should willfully abandon the helpless. He may feed the birds of the air, but He does so by plan and not by turning His back on their needs.”

Eleanor looked at her prior with amazement, unaccustomed to hear him speak so roughly.

Looking down, Adelard blushed but then mumbled: “He would be left to the kindness of villagers. Perhaps Mistress Signy…”

“Our good innkeeper has already taken two orphans,” Eleanor said. “You have no right to demand she do more when you have done so little.”

As if struck, he winced.

Eleanor told the prior to continue.

“Now hear what your penance should be, one that matches the sins you have committed in deed and in thought.” Andrew watched the youth put his hands over his head as if fearing blows, but no pity showed on the prior’s face. “You shall take over your father’s business, make it profitable in an upright way, and train your younger brother to become a master baker. When he has proven his skill, and is old enough, he may take over the shop.”

Adelard gasped. “He is a child! It’ll be years before he can be ready. My father taught him almost nothing.”

Andrew waved away the objections.

“If I must.” The youth bowed his head once more.

“As you know, you have little earned from honest labor to give the priory should you beg admittance.” Andrew shifted his weight to his good leg.

The young man slumped back on his heels. “Since you will accept nothing in any form that was taken from the Jews and insist I rebuild my father’s business again solely to profit my brother, you have made it impossible for me to acquire the gift needed to enter here with honor.”

“If you surrender all that was taken from the king’s people to Mistress Signy and Master Tostig, become a good father to your little brother, and turn your steps onto the path of kindness, charity, and selflessness, we shall consider your penance done. Should your most ardent desire remain entrance to this priory, after your brother becomes skilled and of an age to take over the baking, you may approach us again.”

He blinked. “I shall be an old man by then.”

Andrew shrugged “That is of no moment. There are those who take on the full weight of austere vows when they are so ill and bent with pain that the burden of doing so is onerous indeed. You must have the opportunity to understand fully what you are giving up. By then, you should know whether you wish to leave a soft bed for a thin mattress, kneel on icy stones when the earth itself is frozen, exchange wine and meat for ale and fish, and own one rough habit in which to survive the chill of winter.”

“Time and prayer shall inform you,” Eleanor said and carefully watched the youth.

Adelard frowned. His silence suggested that the ardor of his claimed vocation might have subtly weakened.

Eleanor noticed this hesitation and quickly told him the final penitential requirement. “As Prior Andrew has said, we would then consider admitting you as a lay brother without asking a gift, for we must refuse anything that would impoverish your brother. He is innocent of all that has occurred.”

“A lay brother labors in the fields! I know Latin. I should become a choir monk, a priest, a man who stands before God to sing the Offices…”

“The rank of a faithful soul is determined by purity of motive and sincerity of service.” Eleanor’s tone was icy.

“Do you accept this penance?” Andrew stood before the young man and cupped Adelard’s chin, raising it so the youth was forced to look him in the eye.

“Do I have any choice?” Adelard grumbled and then raised his eyes upward. He began to tremble as if something were shaking him. “I accept,” he whispered.

Eleanor’s expression glowed with benevolence. “We shall look forward to soon hearing from Mistress Signy about your generosity to the poor.”

“Go back to the world,” Prior Andrew said, “confess often, and cast off the arrogance which led you to so many grievous sins.”

Adelard rose to his feet, his face pale. He looked from one to the other as if begging for a softer penance. When neither prior nor prioress granted him that silent wish, he bowed and rushed away.

The young nun, who had been standing just inside the room, closed the door the youth had left open in his hurried flight.

Eleanor turned to her prior. “Shall we ever see him at our gate again, begging enclosure within our walls?”

“I think not.” Andrew did not look disappointed. “But let us hope that he has learned from the sins he committed and becomes a virtuous man.”

“Our sub-prioress must be thanked for her insights,” Eleanor said with a fleeting smile. “It was she who doubted his suitability when you and I were otherwise inclined to accept his plea.”

“That will give her much pleasure,” Andrew replied, his mouth puckered as if he had just drunk wine turned sour.

With that, Eleanor laughed. It was a relief to find some merriment after all the sorrow of the last few days.

***

Outside, the rain started to fall, the drops heavy and thick. As if cleansing the land, the wind drove the downpour like flung pebbles across the ground. By morning, the scoured earth would once again be sweet.

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