Wine of Violence

Chapter Eighteen

Sister Anne stood up, hands on hips, and looked at her prioress with undisguised disapproval. “If I may be so blunt, my lady…”

“And you may, sister.”

“You put yourself in unnecessary danger out there beyond the priory today. Although I agree that you may have found something of interest, perhaps even of great value to our crowner in his investigations, the risk you took was, well, rash.”

Eleanor was sitting in her chambers with her injured foot bound and propped on a stool, a goblet of watered wine at hand and Arthur in her lap. She sighed.

“Blunt indeed, but tactful considering. Let me speak your true thoughts. I was reckless, thoughtless, and stupid to do what I did.”

Anne nodded, then smiled.

“And I have learned my lesson. I was quite happy to send word to our crowner and let him investigate the cave more thoroughly.” Eleanor shifted slightly, and the cat meowed with instant feline annoyance.

“Let me take him.” Anne reached out. “His added weight is not helpful to you.”

“Let him be.” Eleanor looked fondly at the furry creature. “He has a soothing softness.”

Sister Anne started to laugh, then stopped. There was a sharp rap at the chamber door, and she turned toward it with a frown.

“Enter,” Eleanor called out.

Gytha rushed in and curtseyed awkwardly. “My lady, the crowner is here. He begs an audience with you.”

“He has done his investigation quickly,” Eleanor said, turning to Anne and raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Gytha spun around on one foot and was about to speed out the door.

“Gytha! A moment, if you please. I will need you to provide refreshment for the good man.”

“Shall I bring bread as well as wine, my lady?”

“And cheese. He will need something to regain his strength after all his efforts. And perhaps something for…” She pointed to the cat. “I understand he brought three fine dead rats to Sister Edith today.”

“Who squealed loud enough the whole priory knew of his success at the hunt!” Gytha giggled, then rushed from the room to fetch the food.

“Such energy!” Eleanor chuckled.

“Such youth,” Sister Anne sighed.

***

Ralf stood over the heavy wooden table and, with ravenous eagerness, eyed the already razed stack of bread and hacked mound of cheese set before him. “Blood it was on the whip. I’m sure of it,” he said as he reached out with his stained knife to spear another piece of deep orange cheese. He wrapped a hefty chunk of fresh bread around it before taking a huge bite. “I’m grateful for this, my lady. Haven’t been able to break my fast yet today.” Crumbs flew as he chomped at the food with dogged enthusiasm.

Eleanor glanced up at the angle of light coming through her window. The day was well into the afternoon hours. “Do sit and relax. I can wait for a report,” she replied.

Anne rolled her eyes heavenward with gentle amusement as she watched the crowner saw off another slab of cheese.

Ralf shook his head. “If I sit, I’ll fall asleep.” Then he took another monstrous bite and couldn’t quite close his mouth as he chewed. “I must say that the purpose of the cave is still puzzling.” He continued munching cheerfully, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk with a winter’s cache in its mouth.

Eleanor took a sip of wine. “What are your thoughts on it?”

Ralf paused for a brief second in mid-chew. “My first thought was that it was a hideaway for a villein running away from his lord, but the pegs suggested it was being used for more than a temporary hiding spot. They and the raised bed were not things a poor tenant farmer on the run would bother with. At most he might make a mat of leaves or a pallet of dried grass.”

“Did you find any evidence of cooking?”

“No evidence of fire at all, or discarded bones from eating, and that was passing strange as well.” Ralf shook his head. “The whip did make me wonder about one possibility. Have you heard of any hermit recently come to the area?”

Eleanor looked up at Anne, who shook her head. “No. We have heard of no one. I would not expect a hermit to make himself an elevated bed either. Although, now that you raise the question, I wonder about the man I saw.”

“Surely a hermit would have come to us by now, my lady. He would want to have the services of one of our priests,” Anne suggested.

“I wish I had gotten a better look at the man before he ran from me. Perhaps the cave was his. I also find it strange that the sight of a mere nun would frighten him so.”

“A bearded man with long hair and brindled clothes would match most of the men from the village.” Ralf grunted. “Fishermen and men who work the fields care not for fashion. And the knife does not surprise me. Perhaps he didn’t mean to threaten you at all. Perhaps he was cleaning a bird or some wild animal he’d just killed, but running from you does surprise me. The sight of a nun should not be surprising or strange to anyone in the area. The townspeople have all benefited from your hospital and they come to your church for services. Unless he ran because he did not expect to see a nun alone and did not know what he should do? Perhaps he feared God’s wrath if he spoke to you.”

“He did not necessarily know I was alone. Indeed, he would have expected someone to be with me. He might have been surprised to see a nun where he did not think to see one, but he would have had no reason to run unless he was afraid. Or had something to hide.”

“Or was possessed,” Sister Anne suggested.

Eleanor thought for a moment. “I believed he was going to kill me when I saw him with that knife in his hand. Now that I think about it, however, he did look frightened. Certainly, he ran as if he were. If he is possessed, I fear the spirit that has entered his body is more likely to hurt him than another.”

“Then he is to be pitied more than feared,” Anne replied as she turned to the crowner. “The townspeople have seen us away from the priory on occasion, albeit rarely, and usually in the woods. I have looked for herbs abroad when our garden has run short, and Sister Matilda used to search for mushrooms in the forest when she was in charge of the kitchen.” She shook her head as Ralf opened his mouth to speak. “No, the villagers are not there for criminal reasons and steal nothing of interest to the King. They usually come for the same reasons we have. When we meet, they greet us with courtesy and pass on.”

Gytha quietly lifted the ewer of cooled wine and filled the goblets for both Eleanor and Ralf. When the girl offered to pour wine for her, Sister Anne put her hand over her cup.

“You’ve been that far from the priory?” Ralf asked the nun.

“Not I, Ralf,” Anne said. “The wild herbs I use require sun or light shade. My needs were met closer by, but Sister Matilda might have gone deeper into the forest for her mushrooms.”

Ralf coughed, then belched with immense satisfaction. “I would be most grateful, my lady, if you would speak to the sister. I don’t know why, but I seem to frighten your nuns, or else turn them into angry amazons. If Sister Ruth had had a lance in hand when she saw me approach your cloister gate today, I do believe she would have run me through.”

Eleanor laughed. “Indeed! Then be grateful we cannot be warrior nuns in the manner of the Templar monks. Still, I will be happy to talk to Sister Matilda. Perhaps you would be good enough to return tomorrow. I will tell you what I have discovered.”

Ralf swept the table with one last look, grabbed the remaining piece of cheese, which he raised to Eleanor in salute, then bowed and left. As soon as the chamber door shut behind him, Eleanor and Anne looked at each other and burst out in loud laughter.

Gytha blinked in amazement as the two women continued to howl in shared mirth.

“Fear not, child,” Eleanor said, reaching out to touch Gytha’s arm. “We are not mad but simply ungracious enough to enjoy the thought of our elder porteress as a warrior maiden, donning armor and baring her breast to joust with our crowner, who, I should think, would be more interested in a fine cheese than her naked breast.”

“Forgive me, my lady, but Sister Ruth would need no weapon save her bared breast to slay Crowner Ralf,” Gytha replied, eyes twinkling despite her sober look.

The two nuns flushed red, but this time all three bent over in uncontrolled laughter.