Valley of Dry Bones

Chapter Eighteen

“Our meeting is fortunate.” Father Eliduc bowed his head, his voice soft with unfeigned pleasure.

Eleanor smiled with less honest delight. Glancing in the direction of her chambers, she realized that time spent with her accounting rolls, a task not always pleasant, filled her heart with more joy than conversation with this priest. “How may I serve you?” She hoped any request would be minor.

“I have been praying for an opportunity to offer you assistance, my lady.” A large fly buzzed past his nose. He swatted at it.

She would not call his manner exactly obsequious. He was far too clever for an obvious ploy, but she was ever wary of his motives, especially when his eyes narrowed like some creature prowling in the night. “You are most kind,” she replied and assumed that he had some secret purpose.

“Since Baron Otes has been so cruelly slaughtered, I fear Sir Fulke will not be able to participate in the mission on which we were sent by Queen Eleanor.” He inclined his head toward the guest quarters. “And Lady Avelina has not only been troubled by this murder, she has yet to recover her strength from the long journey.”

The prioress nodded, letting silence linger between them.

Eliduc waited and watched as the stubborn fly attempted to land on him.

“I shall take assurances to her that both she and her son are quite safe within these walls.” Eleanor grew uneasy. Did his words imply criticism?

He smirked. “Your comfort would be most welcome, my lady, although I did visit her yesterday when I returned from identifying the body.” His hand shot out, grasped the fly, and squashed it.

Eleanor winced.

“She was long acquainted with the baron, and the violence of his death did trouble her.” He bent to rub his hand clean on the grass. “The Church shall miss him most. He was quite generous, giving many gifts for the care of our least fortunate in exchange for prayers. Have you heard of his charitable reputation from other priories?”

“Not long after he arrived, he came to me with an offer of land as well.” The moment she spoke the words, she knew she had been tricked into that proud reply. Although his scornful tone might have allowed her a remark in mild defense of Tyndal’s status, her impulsive response was ill-considered. In silence, she promised God penance for her imprudence.

His expression brightened. “Then I must congratulate you on this fine gift which shall be used to the glory of God. May I ask where the land lies?” He lowered his eyes with shame. “Forgive me. I am suffering from the frailty of mortal curiosity.”

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor hoped she might make amends with this next response. “The bequest was refused, albeit with much gratitude. Tyndal is a humble priory. I feared the offer was too great a gift for us.” Although he would know this was a lie, courtesy demanded he not pursue the truth by questioning her further. Now she wondered where he might have been leading with this subject.

Clapping his hands together, Eliduc replied, “God will bless you, my lady, for that virtuous act.”

Eleanor was unsure whether or not she should feel relief over his evident delight.

“Forgive me for the digression,” he continued. “Instead of talking about the baron’s death or his recent charity, I had meant to proffer modest advice since other members of the queen’s party may not be able to do so.”

“I am grateful for your concern.” She dropped her gaze.

“I have had the pleasure of visiting your priory before, albeit on sad occasions, and have tasted the food prepared under Sister Matilda’s skilled direction. Although a queen might feast on far finer cuisine than the simple fare meant for humble monks and nuns, I believe our noble lady will find your monastic meals suitable for one on pilgrimage as well as pleasing enough to her taste.”

“Sister Matilda will be honored by your generous praise.”

“If I may have your consent, I shall speak with Sister Matilda and offer a few modest suggestions. Our new queen comes from Castile, a far sunnier climate than England, and she is very fond, for instance, of quince, cherries, apples, and pears. I have even heard rumor that King Edward may order a garden of trees planted to provide some of her favored items.”

Eleanor smiled in gratitude for this idea and said she would arrange for the requested consultation. Then she asked, “How do you find the guest quarters, Father?” Although she remained wary of him, his first recommendation was useful. Similar rumors about the queen’s dietary preferences had reached her ears, including a fondness for olive oil, which the lady imported from Ponthieu.

“Austere, of course.” Gnawing at his lower lip, he frowned thoughtfully. “She will bring tapestries to keep the drafts away. Having just arrived in England after sojourning in Outremer and other warmer lands, she will suffer dreadfully from the damp chill of our winter.” He waited, watching for her reaction.

Although tempted to retort that she knew well enough to provide wood for fires to warm the queen, the prioress opted for a wiser silence. She nodded.

“Do not fear her displeasure, my lady.” Eliduc’s tone was surprisingly gentle. “There is enough room for her attendants, horses, and whatever she chooses to bring with her. This is a pilgrimage and some element of the ascetic is expected. I am confident you will supply all that is needed or expected.”

“Should you find anything lacking, I beg you inform Sister Ruth so the defect may be put right.”

“As you request, my lady. Your sub-prioress is most accommodating.”

Had she just observed a fleeting smile? Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“I have observed a few minor deficiencies, nothing that cannot be corrected quickly. I shall list them for you, and then for Sister Ruth, along with my recommendations for resolution.”

Suppressing a chuckle, she imagined him, guttering torch in hand, prowling through the priory grounds at night in search of flaws. Perhaps he might soon have a plan for improvement of the fish ponds, she thought with brief derision. Then she chastised herself for lack of charity. Although he was devious and pernicious, she never doubted his competence at any set task. Since his current advice seemed offered in good faith, she should be grateful for advice based on greater experience than she owned.

“I must now ask about the entertainment planned to amuse our queen.”

Eleanor was inclined to say that there were no jongleurs amongst her religious but restrained her tongue. “I was told her visit might be planned near the Christmas season,” she said, keeping all hint of annoyance from her voice.

“Although I had hoped to dissuade her from traveling when the weather might be bitter with cold, she seemed determined to do so. Her desire to experience hardship on this pilgrimage is commendable.”

“I thought a performance of the Play of Daniel might please her. It is commonly done during the Twelve Days.”

“Ludus Danielis?” The priest‘s face expressed a rare astonishment. “The version from Beauvais or by Hilarius?”

“Brother John assures me that the one from Beauvais is superior.”

He nodded before adding, “I fear the performance might be beyond the abilities of any choir here.”

“Brother John performs miracles with his novice choir, which includes some boys whose voices are yet unbroken. In preparation for the event, they have already begun practice. Perhaps you have heard their sweet singing?”

Eliduc scowled. “On my way to join the monks for early prayer, I was astounded by loud roaring, followed by a surge of many boys racing from the chapel. Their laughter was quite irreverent. Seeing my confusion, one of the brothers said the lads took their lion imitation very seriously.” He shuddered. “I did not seek any further explanation of such a strange remark.”

“Brother John believes inclusion of the lion’s den makes the horror of Daniel’s unjust sentence and the eventual doom of the evil counselors more vivid. To accomplish that, he directs the novices to roar twice in the play. The boys practice the part often.”

The priest’s expression was a combination of great relief and mild disapproval. “Fortunately, I do not think that will terrify our queen, a woman who proved her courage in Outremer when her husband was stabbed,” he said. “As I think more on this, I am unsure if she would take offense at the implied criticism in the play of an anointed king?” Eliduc’s eyes widened as if afraid the prioress might agree.

“There is much praise for good kings in it. Darius is a man of his word and a just lord, as is King Edward. When he recognizes that evil men have taken advantage of his better nature, he demonstrates praiseworthy faith and says God shall save his friend and servant, Daniel. The play also shows a queen as both wise and prescient. I see no offense here.” Eleanor was amused to see the priest exhale with evident relief.

Eliduc stiffened, embarrassed to have revealed a failing, and his expression grew solemn. “Very well, but I must see the full performance to make sure the quality is good enough for our lady’s ears and nothing ill can be construed.”

“I shall happily arrange it for you. Our novice master will be deeply honored if you approve the entertainment.”

“Let me know when the choir is ready. I shall inform both Sir Fulke and Lady Avelina of our present discussion.” He bowed and excused himself.

As he strode off, he exclaimed in undisguised delight: “Ludus Danielis!”

Eleanor had no idea Father Eliduc had such a weakness for music.