Satan's Lullaby

Chapter Eleven

The tiny cell had no windows. No rushes softened the stone floor. This room had once been used for storage, then converted to a cell to hold a monk accused of murder. One person had died here, and the room thereafter remained empty of all but ghosts. A few claimed there was one in particular, who sometimes hurried through the outside corridor in a stinging mist, wailing for mercy from his place in Hell.

Sister Anne sat on the prickly mat that would be her bed and stared at the lone flickering candle she had been allowed to banish darkness and evil spirits. There was nothing else to give comfort, but if her fortitude had weakened, she did not show it. Hands folded, she stared at the rough walls without blinking.

With no warning, the door squeaked open.

Prioress Eleanor and her maid walked in.

Sister Anne rose to her knees, bowed her head, and only now began to weep.

From the hall outside, a hand reached in and slammed the door shut.

“Forgive me, my lady!”

Eleanor grasped her friend’s arm. “Rise! You need not beg forgiveness.”

“I have added to your burden!” Anne looked around as if some solution to this nightmare might be found in the trembling shadows. “I swear I sent the right remedy and proper instructions with a clerk who claimed to come from our abbess’ brother.”

“I know you are telling the truth. We must discover who had motivation to do this thing, why, and how.”

“And you have been accused of a vile misdeed by some unknown person? Who would dare do such a thing?”

“There is too much awry,” Eleanor said with a thin smile. “You have not asked the nature of my crime, but the word will soon be out. Brother Thomas and I are accused of lying together in lust. That was the purpose for which Father Etienne was sent on this visit.”

Anne turned white with horror.

“I do not believe that our abbess sent her brother because she longs to discredit me. She is an honorable woman, and her elevation to abbess brought us great joy. I am convinced they both want facts, not an easy resolution based in half-gathered information.”

“Hasn’t Abbess Isabeau always found Prior Andrew’s reports on Michaelmas or Easter satisfactory?” Anne could barely speak. “How could she give any credence…?”

“She must do so. Recently, she has had cause to fear Rome’s displeasure. I heard that some of her abbey monks have grown rebellious under a woman’s rule. If Rome learns that one of her prioresses has also broken her vows with a monk, many more bishops will demand intervention, claiming these disciplinary problems prove that a woman’s leadership is against God’s law. If her brother can satisfactorily resolve the difficulty here, while she quells the restless abbey monks, Rome will be less inclined to interfere with the practices of our Order.”

“Someone must want you found guilty and removed from your position,” Anne finally said. “Why else damn you for lust and me for killing a young clerk?”

“Perhaps the reasons for the charge of wantonness and the death of Jean are not the same.” Eleanor turned thoughtful. Although she had not yet told Ralf of this, she was reminded of the soldier’s death on the way to the priory. The guard captain had suggested it was the result of some grievous quarrel between two men, a conclusion Eleanor would not have questioned if the death of Davoir’s clerk had not occurred so soon after. Was there another motive that linked the guard’s death with Jean’s? “To condemn me for unchaste behavior is one thing. That suggests malice. Killing a clerk to add to that accusation is excessive.”

“Unless the malice has turned the soul gangrenous, and then murder would not be such an extreme act.” Anne looked over at Gracia. The girl’s face was wan in the muddy candlelight, and the sub-infirmarian’s expression spoke of her grief that this child should hear this and suffer another threat to her security.

Eleanor shivered. She could imagine there were some who would enjoy embarrassing her by claiming she had broken her vows. There was no one she knew who hated her so much that he would kill to force her removal from the leadership of Tyndal. She shook her head to clear it.

Jean’s death, the soldier’s murder, the accusations against her sub-infirmarian, and the initial claims of her own transgressions could be related. Or not. There were too many coincidences to discount a connection. Yet she had few facts, many paths she might follow, and little time to determine what properly fit together for the most logical conclusion.

If only she could learn who had initiated the original claim of immoral behavior, she might be able to decide if everything had the same foul origin. Regarding the guard’s death on the journey here, the event might have been, as Davoir reported, the result of a quarrel between two men. She should leave that matter to Ralf, she thought, but she knew she could not forget about it.

“Dare you investigate this matter at all, my lady?” Anne’s voice was soft with concern. “Might you not be accused of tainting evidence or obscuring facts for your own benefit?”

“Nor may Brother Thomas on the same grounds,” the prioress replied. “I can only pray that Father Etienne does not conclude he must take over the investigation into his clerk’s death since neither Brother Thomas nor I can be trusted to do so.”

“Ralf must examine the body.”

“But the priory is under the jurisdiction of the Church. All he can do is determine cause of death and help in the investigation. Were he to discover the killer, he could not send him for punishment unless the guilty one is subject to the king’s law. Otherwise, the Church decides the penalty.”

“I may have been the source of the accusation of murder against you, my lady, but Brother Thomas remains free of that.”

Eleanor shrugged. “He is not tainted with the claim of murder, but he remains suspect in breaking his vows and doing so with me. He will be watched. We cannot be seen together.”

“How could anyone have accused you both of such acts?”

Eleanor shook her head. “Had this death not occurred, I feel certain that Brother Thomas would emerge from the charge, his virtue untarnished. You know him well. Has there ever been one word spoken against him?”

“Even your sub-prioress has high praise for his piety and goodness.”

“Let us hope she will be half as kind to me,” Eleanor said. “Father Etienne plans to question her first about my own chastity.”

Anne stiffened. “She would not dare…” She stopped, but her tone suggested she thought the sub-prioress capable of doing just that.

“Despite our quarrels over the years, and her justified grievance against me, Sub-Prioress Ruth is a woman of honor.”

“She has no justified grievance.”

“She was elected Prioress of Tyndal before King Henry overruled the priory and sent me to head this place instead. That is grounds for acceptable resentment.”

“And you have honored her by placing her in charge during your absences, including her in discussions about the priory businesses, and treating her with respect.”

“And I have usually not agreed with her opinions on the way the priory should be run, how best to serve God, or even how to pay our debts.”

“You have been proven right in your decisions.”

Gracia watched the conversation between the two older women with fascination. Seeing her interest, Eleanor put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Our sub-prioress owns virtues. Has she not welcomed Gracia to our priory and arranged a fine education for her?”

Anne smiled for the first time. “Even the Devil might accidentally fall into goodness against his will.”

Bending forward, Eleanor whispered, “Be careful, Anne! He might hear you.” Then she grew serious again. “Despite the difficulties strewn in the path, I shall not remain idle in the matter of Jean’s death, even if my involvement must remain secret. Tell me in more detail about the remedy you sent to treat the youth.”

Quickly, the nun repeated what she had said before.

After a moment, the prioress asked, “Can you recall anything odd about the person who came to you? A twitch, an odd way of pronouncing a word, some other habit or identifying mark?”

“I did think it strange that the priest would send a clerk when I had promised to deliver the cure by a lay brother who could answer questions, if needed, about the use.” She paused. “This clerk spoke very softly. I thought he was shy, but when I asked him to repeat something, he seemed unable to do so in a louder voice. I remember hoping he understood what I was telling him. He did not ask any questions.”

“He spoke our tongue well?”

“Yes. But, after I thought more on it, I realize he did have a slight accent. That was why I believed Father Etienne had sent him.”

“And you could not see his face?”

“No. He held the hood around his mouth and nose like we do in bitterly cold weather. At the time, I wondered if he was so cold because the climate where he had come from was so much warmer.”

“The color of his eyes?”

“I could not see in the shadows.”

“Where, I assume, he stayed.”

Sister Anne nodded.

“You gave him the container of ground ginger and chamomile with the instructions. Did he leave immediately?”

The nun stared at her prioress. “No! A lay sister came to tell me I was urgently needed. After I resolved the problem, I returned, but the man had left.” She shook her head. “I did not think I was gone long and assumed he wanted to hasten back to Jean with the cure and, perhaps, had understood my directions perfectly.”

“Was he alone in the apothecary room while you were gone?”

“I thought the lay sister was going to stay with him. When I came back, neither he nor she was there. It is possible that he was alone.” She frowned in thought, then shook her head.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“It is nothing. I was thinking that I had been called away so quickly by the lay sister that I wasn’t sure I had put the gout remedy back in its place, as is my wont. I must have. It was not on the table when I got back to the hut.” Her smile was wan.

“Who would know best about your routines in preparing cures and where you keep the ingredients? I ask because this person might know if more is missing than should be or if something has been moved.”

“There is one young nun who is showing promise in the healing art, my lady. She might be able to answer your…” Anne put her hand against her mouth.

“You are right. I cannot go there and ask these questions.”

“And Brother Thomas?”

“It would be wise if he did not either.”

Anne covered her face.

Prioress Eleanor reached over and hugged her friend. “Weep not,” she said. “For every obstruction, there is a path around it.” And she turned to Gracia with a warm smile.

The warmth was matched by the eager glow in the maid’s eyes. “I would be honored to help in any way you ask, my lady,” she said.