Satan's Lullaby

Chapter Nine

Gracia carefully poured dark ale from a large pitcher into the small mazer held by Father Etienne. Not one errant drop dampened his robe.

He observed that, but his grim expression did not soften.

Catching her maid’s eye, Eleanor glanced at the platter of hard cheese and bright apples on the table.

Gracia replaced the pitcher and picked up the heavy platter. When she offered it to Davoir, he waved it away with a gesture commonly used to discourage flies.

Eleanor forced a smile, and then nodded discreetly at the table where her maid put the platter down. Now that the courtesy of offered refreshment was complete, Gracia went to the door and modestly cast her gaze to the rushes covering the stone floor. As inconspicuously as possible, she allowed herself a few glances to follow what was happening.

Savoring the drink, the priest pursed his lips, and then nodded. “Bitter but refreshing,” he noted. “I assume there is a purpose for the absence of wine and use of such humble cups?” He raised the small pewter mazer, but his tone suggested curiosity rather than criticism.

“We have wine for the church and the sick,” Eleanor replied. “As for the cups and platters, we only use gold and silver to honor God. Man may do with less.” She tilted her head, her lips twitching into a brief smile.

“And I agree. Like all men, vowed to God, I have turned aside from the glitter of worldly things.”

Without thinking, Eleanor looked at the jewel in his ring, then forced herself to look away as if distracted by the passing cloud that cast a brief shadow in the chambers. To be fair, she thought, the cross around his neck is simple, his robe is plain, and he wears no other adornment.

He waited, then continued. “What shall you do if King Edward visits?”

“Kings are anointed with holy oil, blessed on God’s altar. For our king, we would provide a finer chalice, not for the mortal man, but to honor the One who blessed him and granted him the privilege and responsibility of justly ruling a Christian nation.”

“My sister told me that you would be clever.”

She did not feel clever, and this wordplay was meaningless. Eleanor grew impatient, for she feared that moment would be like the lowering of the hangman’s noose over her head. She wished Brother Thomas was here with his calming manner, but Ralf had asked him to visit Gytha and hear her confession. Then, with a mix of dread and relief, she realized that Davoir shared her lack of interest in merry verbal games.

His smile fading, the priest cleared his throat. “My clerks found your accounting rolls to be in excellent order. The entries are done promptly and with adequate detail. They also found no payment for any item deemed inappropriate for a monastic house.”

She bit her lip. What did he expect to find? Entries for the cost of falcons? The purchase of arrows so the monks might hunt between the Offices? There were no high-born bishops or abbots here who brought their hawks and falcons to the steps of the altar while they prayed. Some priories and abbeys might allow these luxurious pleasures, but she would never permit them in her priory.

“Abbess Isabeau heard that you had turned the sad state of this priory’s assets into a profitable condition after your arrival. She will be pleased to know the tale has been confirmed.”

A situation the abbess had learned some time ago after Prior Andrew’s visits to the abbey with complete accounts, Eleanor thought, but murmured gratitude for the intended compliment. At least this investigation was not ordered because of some rumor of financial wrongdoing.

“As for the state of the priory buildings, walls, mill, fish ponds, orchards and gardens, I have some questions and a few deficiencies for you to address. Amongst those who accompanied me on this journey is a man who was a stonemason before God called him to a higher craft. I set him to examine the buildings.”

Gesturing to Gracia, the prioress indicated that she wished a certain document brought to her. Unrolling it, she waited for him to list his findings.

“There is an unsightly growth of dank moss in the window over the altar in the chapel. It dims the light coming into that place of worship.”

“The moss has been deliberately left to remind us that the human spirit must always strive to see the light in the darkness of earthly sin.”

Even if he did not acknowledge appreciation of her purpose in words, Davoir’s eyes brightened before he went to the next item. “The stones in the wall near the mill gate are loose.”

She looked down at her document. “We plan to repair that in late spring. If we did so now, we might have to mend it again after the snows. When the lay brother examined the wall, he found it strong enough to last one more winter.”

He mentioned two more items for which she had also planned work. Again he smiled. “Well done. As for the bee skeps, gardens, and orchards, your lay brothers and sisters have tended them with skill. Since these are things for which I have a particular fondness, I chose to examine that aspect of your priory myself.”

“Then I am especially honored that you found no neglect.” Trying to keep her hands steady, she rolled up her document and gave it back to Gracia for safekeeping.

“I also noted that you seem to adhere to the Rule in matters of diet, silence, Offices, and attire.”

“Our nuns, barring needs of family or other assigned duties to God, spend their days in prayer. Our anchoress, Juliana, is known for her pious advice to those who seek it. Our hospital offers spiritual comfort for the dying and cures for those whom God does not yet call…”

He waved his hand to interrupt. “I found no defect in these matters.”

“Yet I hear a note of concern in your voice. In what have you found a fault?”

“Your infirmarian is a pious woman and helps the dying turn their thoughts to Heaven with her prayers. As for Sister Anne, I found a lack of humility in her as well as an unwillingness to be directed by those wiser than she.” He looked at his mazer.

In an instant, Gracia was at his side and refilled it.

“I am troubled that you have no monk or even lay brother with sufficient training to determine the necessary treatments and potions. While a woman’s bodily imperfections are simple and her frailties may be easily understood, the physical ills of God’s more intricate creations, Adam’s sons, are beyond the comprehension of a woman.”

“Since Sister Anne has performed many noteworthy cures, witnessed by physicians and priests alike, I must conclude that God guides her hand.” She bowed her head. “How else may we explain this daughter of Eve owning the skills of Adam’s sons?” Before he interrupted her, she went on. “But perhaps your investigating clerk did not realize that Brother Thomas has some skill in these matters. He often takes remedies to the village for those who cannot travel to the hospital to receive them.” She omitted any mention that the sub-infirmarian made the cures and had done the monk’s training.

“Her treatment of my clerk has not been successful. Perhaps God chose this time while I was here to demonstrate His displeasure with her.”

Eleanor flushed with outrage. If Sister Anne had improperly diagnosed the clerk, she did so because of the priest’s interference. “May I suggest that she and Brother Thomas be allowed to examine the young man together? Prior Andrew is not an apothecary. His skills lie in other areas, such as administering our lands and rents, which you found capably executed.”

He stiffened. “I find your stubborn insistence in this matter unseemly, despite my clear objection, and I reject your renewed suggestion. Although I would have preferred to reveal the purpose of my investigation in a gentler manner, you now force me to be blunt. This visit was not something my sister wished to order, nor did she want to send me away from court at the very time when I might be offered a bishop’s miter.”

Eleanor felt a chill course through her. Had winter come so soon? Trying not to show her fear, she clutched her hands, prayed for strength, and waited.

“It has come to Abbess Isabeau’s attention that you and Brother Thomas have an unchaste relationship.”

Stunned beyond belief, Eleanor leapt to her feet. “That is a lie! Who has dared to make such a vile accusation?” Her outraged expression of innocence was honest enough. Although she might long for a different union with the handsome and gentle monk than one of brother and sister in God’s service, she knew Brother Thomas had never once been accused of sin with any woman since he took vows. Most certainly, he had never shown the slightest carnal interest in her.

“The source of this news shall remain anonymous.”

“Ask anyone in this priory or in the village outside our walls. Brother Thomas has never once broken his vows by lying with a woman or even looking at one with lust. And, if he is innocent of that, then you may conclude that he and I are joined only by our love of God.”

“I have not yet begun my questioning of the religious in this priory.”

“Then start immediately!” Eleanor slammed her staff of office against the floor. All courtesy due this man because of his mission, relationship to the Abbess of Fontevraud, and his stature in the French king’s court had just ended.

Davoir blinked in the face of such rage and hesitated before he also rose to his feet. “I shall begin with your sub-prioress.”

It was Eleanor’s turn to pause. Of all the people he might have queried, he would choose the one who viewed her with much ill-will. But on quick reflection, she believed that even Sub-Prioress Ruth would not stoop so low as to accuse her of bedding Brother Thomas.

“She is an excellent choice,” Eleanor replied. “She will answer your questions in a forthright manner and will hide nothing to my discredit. She is an honorable servant of God.”

The silence in the chambers grew as heavy as the lead roof over the adjacent chapel.

A loud knocking startled them.

Shocked and outraged over the accusations leveled at her mistress and Brother Thomas, Gracia was red-faced with anger when she ran for the door. Who had dared disobey her mistress’ order to be left in peace while she spoke with this priest? If she had had a broom, Gracia would have gladly swept the rude intruder away.

But the lay sister on the other side of the door fell to her knees and reached out in supplication. “Please, my lady!”

Eleanor hurried to the door. “What is it?”

The messenger’s face was gray. “The clerk, Jean!”

Davoir stepped forward. “What has happened? Speak!”

“He is dead.” The woman buried her face in her hands and wept.