Wine of Violence

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Sin! The man is full of the blackest sin!” Simeon was weaving off the pathway.

Thomas reached out and tried to pull Simeon gently back to the safety of the level walk. “Surely God protected our prioress from Brother John’s black heart.”

“God’s hand is stronger when supported by a weapon in a good man’s hand!” Simeon waved one of his own hands drunkenly.

“Aye, and you have been wounded yourself in the good fight against the instrument of Satan,” Thomas said as he caught the waving hand.

Simeon looked down at his bandaged left hand held by the young monk. “A minor scratch. I fell as I chased Brother John from the church and scraped my hand on the rocks of the path. A minor wound in the battle against God’s enemies!” He belched with evident satisfaction.

“Has Sister Anne looked…”

“Eve took the apple from the serpent, brother. I will have no woman touch me with that poisonous hand. In battles between kings, each man aids his fellow. In the wars against sin, wounds must be treated in the same fashion. We monks have no need for the daughters of Eve. I know enough to wrap a scrape.”

“I meant well, brother. Forgive me if I angered.”

Simeon slapped Thomas on the back with his free hand. “You did not anger, my son. I know you meant no ill, but once again I would advise you to beware of Sister Anne. She is an arrogant woman and not as holy as she should be.”

“How so? You have suggested such in the past but never told me your meaning.”

“She and Brother John were married in the world, brother. I have seen them behave in ways here that make me question their devotion to their vows of chastity.”

“Surely our prioress has seen this as well, yet Sister Anne has gained her confidence…”

Simeon snatched his hand from Thomas’ grip. “I do not share your trust in our prioress, Brother Thomas. She is a young woman and inexperienced in the ways of the world. She needs firm guidance in her friendships. I fear that Sister Anne may have blinded her by showing a fine face. Being a woman, Prioress Eleanor is weak and lacking in good judgement. She has been easily beguiled and cannot see the corruption in the nun’s heart.”

“I am grateful for your wise instruction, brother. Perhaps our prioress would benefit from your words of warning too.”

“Our descendant of Eve suffers much from the sin of arrogance, I fear, and shows no signs of realizing she needs guidance and the greater wisdom of Adam. After all, whom did she pick as her personal confessor? A murderer! She certainly did not consult with me on that or I would have warned her away from him. And you heard her join with our boorish and irreverent crowner in expressing some doubt that Brother John was guilty of both murders and the attack on her person. Does any of that suggest to you that the woman is rational or a good judge of character?”

“Perhaps she will see the error of her ways, when she has gained some distance from these horrible events, and be guided by you in the future.”

Simeon snorted and marched ahead. His anger, it seemed, had burned away the effects of too much unwatered wine. His step was now firm.

As Thomas stood and watched the man, he sighed. He doubted the good prioress would ever listen to Brother Simeon in the manner he wished, and Thomas thought it equally unlikely that Simeon would ever become reconciled to his new subservient role. In the meantime, Thomas wondered about Brother John’s guilt. He had been surprised to learn that he and Sister Anne had once been married. From what he had observed, he doubted that the monk was a threat to any woman’s chastity, even his own wife’s. He must learn more of what Simeon knew.

Thomas gathered up his robes and ran after the receiver.

***

“It is all my fault,” Gytha wailed.

As soon as Sister Anne had left the prioress’s chambers, Gytha had knocked at the door and begged for a private audience. Eleanor was beginning to wonder if God had suddenly changed the rule prohibiting women from being priests, with so many confessions crowding in on her.

Gytha now stood in front of Eleanor with her head bowed.

“Child, you should have told this to Crowner Ralf, but you are not to blame for what has happened. Indeed, you warned me of the distrust between village and priory. Although I listened, I failed to hear with my whole heart what you were telling me.”

“Neither my brother nor I meant to do wrong, my lady.”

Eleanor cut some bread and cheese, then pushed the serving across the table toward the young girl. “Sit. Eat. And tell me all, child.”

“There is little but that Tostig knew who the dead man was. He was not a village man but he had worked on Tyndal’s farms and came to our market days. My brother knew him from that.”

“And when he died on our grounds, all believed one of the monks had killed him?”

Gytha nodded. “Some did for cert.”

“Why?”

“Brother Rupert visited him not long after Prioress Felicia died. After that, Eadnoth refused to go near either priory or farm. He wouldn’t say why but he acted like a badly frightened man. Some said he was losing his wits, a few that he was possessed, but many more thought that someone in the priory had threatened him.”

Eleanor stood up, got another cup from the cabinet, poured some wine into it and watered it well. “You are not eating, child. I do not want you ill over this. And drink the wine. It will strengthen you.” She watched while Gytha took a small bite and then another. “Did I not promise you that no harm would ever come from telling me the truth, however hard it might be for me to hear it. It grieves me that so many fear the inhabitants of the priory because most of us are Normans. Perhaps they do not know that not all of us are, although your brother should. Whatever the case, we are all children of God and equal in His sight, whether we be Saxon, Norman, or even a Scot or a wild Welshman,” Eleanor said, trying to make Gytha smile.

“Sometimes that has been forgotten, my lady.” The girl’s expression remained solemn.

“During the time of Prioress Felicia?”

“She was a kindly woman and meant well. Brother Rupert was gentle and ministered to the spiritual needs of everyone without hesitation. Neither seemed comfortable in dealings with the secular world, despite all that, and they did little to protect us from those who were harsher in their commerce with us.”

“And who might that be?”

“Brother Simeon was one. He did not treat us as if we were all equal in the sight of God. When crops failed or sickness came or times were hard for other reasons, he called us sinful creatures that deserved whatever evil had befallen us. He gave no mercy in the matter of tithes. When we took our complaints to Prioress Felicia, she told us to see Prior Theobald. And when we spoke with him, he would just shake his head in sadness and say that the world was full of evil and grief or that mortal men were weak creatures in need of greater prayer. Homilies but no action.”

Eleanor shook her head. “And Brother John?” she asked with sadness in her voice.

Gytha put her head in her hands. “Brother John is a good man like Brother Rupert was. I cannot believe he is guilty of murder! Must he die like Brother Rupert and Eadnoth? Is the end of the world coming that good men now die like dogs, even in a community dedicated to God?”

Eleanor’s eyes widened in shock. She reached over to take the young girl’s hand. “Don’t be afraid! If Brother John is innocent, he will not die. Evil may have attacked this house of God, but this house is not evil. I swear it on my own honor!”

Gytha squeezed her hand and wiped her cheeks dry. “My brother did say your coming to Tyndal might bode well for change. He…”

There was a sharp rap at the chamber door. The prioress straightened up and answered with anger in her voice.

Sister Ruth entered, pushing a dirty young fellow about Gytha’s age at arm’s length in front of her. The lines of her scowl were so deeply etched into her forehead they were black.

“This foul-smelling creature demanded entry. I tried to keep him out, but he would not take my nay for an answer. Fa, but he stinks!” The nun stepped backwards in disgust.

The lad did smell like something rotting. His clothes were rags and his shoulders and chest were bursting what few seams held. Tears had cleaned two paths down his blackened cheeks. Gytha started at the sight of him

“Your name, my son?” Eleanor asked, reaching out her hand.

“Eadmund, the son of Eadnoth.” He hawked and spat at the sight of the prioress’s proffered hand. Although his body was not fully fleshed and muscled, his voice was that of a man.

Sister Ruth started to cuff the young man for his rudeness, then withdrew her hand when she realized she would have to touch his filthy cheek.

Gytha had no such qualms. She reached over and shoved him so hard he rocked back on his heels. “Show some manners, Eadmund!”

Eleanor looked back at Gytha with a silent question in her eyes.

“He is a good lad, my lady, for all his ill manners.”

“Then leave us with our thanks, Sister Ruth, and we will hear what he has to say.”

“My lady, it is not safe to leave you alone with such a ruffian.”

“Then get Brother Jo…Thomas, who may be in the sacristy still. He can wait outside my door in case of need.”

Sister Ruth rushed from the room so quickly she left the chamber door open. Eleanor rose and slowly shut it.

“Will you have something to eat, my son?” she said and pointed at the food still on the table.

He looked ravenously at the hunk of cheese and bread but angrily shook his head from side to side.

“If I were to guess, lad, I’d say you hadn’t eaten in awhile. Please take something.”

“I take nothing from the priory.”

“Eadmund!” Gytha said, putting her hands on her hips. “You cannot eat pride, and Prioress Eleanor will not hurt you.”

The lad looked wildly back and forth between Eleanor and Gytha, then charged at the table, grabbed both bread and cheese and began stuffing huge chunks into his mouth. Bits dropped from his lips. He ate like an animal that knows it might never find another meal.

Gytha looked at him, sorrow casting a shadow in her eyes, then she glanced at Eleanor to see her reaction. The tiny nun sat calmly, her expression sad as she watched the boy, nay, both man and boy, bolt the food. Finally, the feeding frenzy over, Eadmund belched loudly. Then he looked wide-eyed at the prioress and began to cry.

“You’ve poisoned me, y’ have,” he moaned.

Eleanor started in shock. “Poison? Why would I do a thing like that?”

“’Cause you killed my pa, you did. You’re bloody devils!”

The door opened. Eadmund jumped up and ran to the wall just under the window. Sister Ruth stuck her head in, glaring in fury at the youth. “Brother Thomas is no longer here, my lady. While we wait for him, I shall…”

“Sister, please leave us. Should the young man wish to depart, he is free to go. In the meantime, stay without and shut the door behind you.”

“But…”

“As I said, sister.”

The chamber door slammed shut.

Eleanor turned to Eadmund, who was looking up at the window like a cornered cat calculating a jump. She wanted to reach out to him but knew such a gesture would only make matters worse.

“Eadmund?” she asked in a soft voice. “Stay there and I will stand over here.” She gestured to the wall on her right. “If you want to run, you can reach the door and leave any time you want.” Then she calmly walked to the far corner, gesturing Gytha to follow her. “You can see that you are free to leave if you choose, and neither Gytha nor I could stop you. You heard me give orders to let you go when you open that door.”

The look in the young man’s eyes grew less feral. He slid with his back still against the wall into a sitting position and stared at Eleanor.

“You must have wanted to talk to me if you braved Sister Ruth to get in,” Eleanor said with gentle voice and a slight smile.

He looked at her, his expression still wary. He jerked his head in Gytha’s direction. “Her brother said you were trustworthy. And he’s a trusty one himself, aye, although his sister works for you black devils.”

“Has anything happened to Gytha despite her being here?”

Eadmund belched again. “Nay. Other than she is now fat and fine.”

Gytha snorted.

“Then we are not all devils, surely?”

The young man’s look darkened. “Maybe not but I cannot say who is and who isn’t.”

“You know Tostig’s judgement is good and that he would not have sent you into danger alone. He’d have come himself if he thought you had anything to fear. He seems to be both a brave and a decent man.”

Eadmund nodded. “He said he’d come with me if it would make me feel safer, but I said I would come alone. He gave me his word you’d not hurt me.” In puffing out his chest, he now looked more a boy than the man he was becoming.

“And have I?”

Eadmund belched for the third time. “I’m not dead yet…and the cheese was good.” He looked around as if hoping, despite his misgivings, that there would be more.

“Then you have shown courage. Perhaps now you will say what you came to tell me?”

Once again, the boy looked like a small and helpless child. “I don’t know what to say.” He smeared what Eleanor suspected were tears away from his eyes, then looked at Gytha with ferocity. “Get her out!” he shouted. “I’ll not tell anything if she’s to hear me.”

Mentally shoving rules aside, Eleanor gestured to Gytha to leave. The girl hesitated, then realized the boy was more afraid than angry, and she quickly left, shutting the door softly behind her.

“Now then, lad. What did you come to say?”

The boy put his head into his hands and began to weep in gulping sobs. “He threatened me, forced me to fuck him, he did, then drove my father out of his wits, swearing he’d make sure we died if either of us said one word. He took me down to that cave and made me swyve him. He gave us money, but my father grew mad with grief. I couldn’t leave my father. He needed me to care for him. I had no choice. I had to.…I’ll burn in Hell for this!” The lad howled like a wounded wolf in a trap.

Eleanor felt a pain as sharp as a dagger thrust in her heart. “Hell shall not have you, Eadmund. That I promise,” she whispered. “Now tell me who did this monstrous thing to you.…”

“The tall black monk.”

“Brother John?”

“Nay! When I told him my sins in confession after Brother Rupert died, he wept, he did, but said he could say nothing unless I spoke out. He begged me to tell Sister Ruth. I would have none of that!” He coughed from swallowed tears, then wiped a hand across his nose. “She’s no different than the others. After you came, he beseeched me to talk to Gytha’s brother and ask his advice about coming to you. Tostig said you could be trusted.…”

“And thus you bravely came. If not Brother John, lad, then who was the man…?”

“The fat one. Simeon, he’s called.”

With that, the boy began to wail again, and this time, when Eleanor reached out to him, he fell into her arms.