In another part of the Abbey, Abbess Helewise presented to her visitor an outward demeanour as serene as that of Sister Phillipa working at her lettering. However, in Helewise’s case a smiling face and calmly folded hands hid an irritation that was swiftly escalating into anger.
She had been on her knees in the small room reserved for her own use, from which she conducted much of the day-to-day business of the Abbey, deep in thought and about to enter into a fervent prayer. The object of her thoughts had been an earlier visitor, one who was always welcome and whom Helewise wished would spare more time from her busy life to rest in Hawkenlye’s peace. .
Queen Eleanor was and always had been deeply involved with Hawkenlye Abbey. Its foundation had occurred at a time when Eleanor, newly married to Henry, had the power to exercise an influence over the determining of its nature. She had urged that it be based on the model of her beloved Fontevraud, the great abbey in the Loire region where nuns and monks served in the same community under the rule of an abbess. Eleanor had watched Hawkenlye grow, had engaged French stonemasons and a French architect to build it and, it was rumoured, had presented to the Abbey the jewel of its treasury: an English-made carving in walrus ivory of the dead Christ supported by Joseph of Arimathea. Her involvement did not cease once the Abbey was functioning. At the very least, she tried to be present each time a new abbess was elected, and she did her best to spend a night or two, or just a few hours, at Hawkenlye whenever practical.
She was particularly close to Abbess Helewise. It was not uncommon for the Queen to talk to the Abbess of matters close to her heart, and so Helewise had been delighted but not surprised when Eleanor had arrived, several weeks into the New Year, and unburdened herself of her fears for her captive son in the privacy of Helewise’s little room.
Helewise had already heard a rumour of King Richard’s fate. Hawkenlye was close to the road that ran from London to the coast and travellers calling in at the Abbey frequently brought news from the capital. But she would never have come to hear a detailed account of the business had it not been for the Queen.
Eleanor was on her way back to Westminster from Robertsbridge. Exhausted, the strain evident in her face, for once the Queen had looked her seventy years; Helewise had instantly ordered food and drink and, as the Queen took refreshment, had sat at her feet and listened to her speaking.
‘I knew, Helewise, that something was amiss,’ Eleanor sighed. ‘There should have been news, you see — we knew he had set sail from Acre back in October, and there were reports that the Franche-Nef had put in at Cyprus and Corfu. The ship was sighted near Brindisi and we understood he was making for Marseilles. It seemed only a matter of weeks before he would be back — indeed, all of Normandy was making ready to welcome him home! But then, nothing.’ She reached for her goblet of wine and drank deeply. Then: ‘I feared for his realm.’ There was no need for her to elaborate: Helewise knew full well what she meant. ‘I ordered that the borders of Normandy be strengthened; one cannot be too careful.’
‘No, my lady,’ Helewise murmured.
‘Then I received the letter.’ Eleanor’s voice was dull, almost expressionless. ‘My good Walter of Coutances’s man had fulfilled his mission — exceeded it, one might say — and managed to obtain a copy of Emperor Henry’s letter to that vile cur, Philip of France. On 21st December, the letter said, the King of England — oh, Helewise, how they disparaged him, calling him “the enemy of our Empire and the disturber of your kingdom”! — was taken prisoner by Duke Leopold of Austria. Walter knew full well how this frightful news would affect me, for he enclosed a letter of his own exhorting me to bear up and be brave.’
‘He is a man,’ Helewise said softly, ‘and has not a mother’s heart.’
She felt the brief pressure of the Queen’s hand on her shoulder. Although Eleanor did not speak, Helewise knew that, in that instant, both of them were thinking the same thing.
‘What will happen now, my lady?’ Helewise asked after a moment.
‘I have sent the Abbot of Robertsbridge to Austria to search for the King. He is to be accompanied by the Abbot of Boxley. They are sound men and I know that they will do their utmost. But oh, how I yearn to be going myself! I would find him, I know it, and then let the piddling Duke Leopold and his scurrilous master the Emperor look to their defences! They would not understand what an enemy they had unleashed until I descended on them!’
The room rang with the echoes of the Queen’s shout. Then, as silence fell, she said, ‘Ah, well. I am an old woman, and I can do more good here in England.’
‘You hearten us, as always, by your presence and by your brave example,’ Helewise said. Her words were no empty flattery; she spoke from the heart.
The Queen, it seemed, knew it. ‘Thank you.’
‘What can we do, my lady?’ Helewise asked. ‘Anything that is in our power, you only have to command and it is done.’
‘Will you pray for us, for my poor captive son and his grieving mother?’
‘Yes! Oh, yes, of course we will!’
The Queen smiled. ‘If you put such fervour into your prayers, Abbess Helewise, then surely God cannot help but hear.’
Helewise returned her smile. Then she asked, ‘Would you care to pray with us, my lady, before you leave?’
‘Yes. I should like that very much.’
The Queen had prayed that evening and again the next morning. Before she left, surrounded by her attendants and in haste to return to Westminster where there might be news, she took Helewise aside.
‘I have asked my nuns at Fontevraud and at Amesbury also to pray for us,’ she said quietly. ‘Like you, they earnestly promise to comply.’
‘I am quite sure-’ Helewise began.
The Queen held up a hand. ‘I know. What I wish to say, Abbess Helewise, is that Queen Eleanor does not ask a boon without giving something in return.’
‘But there is no need-’
Again, the Queen stopped her words with an imperious gesture. ‘I have for Hawkenlye a bag of gold,’ she said. ‘Put it to whatever use you see fit. My only stipulation is that whatever you do is done in the name of the King and of his mother.’
Helewise bowed low. ‘You do us, as ever, too much honour.’
Eleanor put her hands on Helewise’s shoulders, raising her up again. ‘Not so. In Hawkenlye I am given support and rare comfort. Why should I not bestow upon the community a little of what I have in abundance?’
Then, to Helewise’s amazement, the Queen leaned forward, embraced her and kissed her.
Clutching the bag of gold as she watched the royal party depart, Helewise had tears in her eyes.
That visit was now several days in the past and already Helewise had taken the first steps towards the spending of the Queen’s unexpected bounty. A Hawkenlye Herbal, she thought, what better use could there be, for it would serve both as a permanent tribute to King Richard and his mother and also, because of its content, benefit healers both currently engaged at the Abbey and those that were to come. Sister Phillipa was even now engaged in preparing a demonstration of her skills, and Helewise had written out — although not yet despatched — an order for parchment, pigments, inks, brushes and quills.
She had retired to her room to go over in her mind the recent interview with the Queen and to pray for her. Then, just as she had settled on to her knees, the knock at the door had come. And Sister Ursel, the porteress, had announced that Father Micah was outside and wished to speak to her.
‘I have told him that it may not be convenient but-’
‘But I insisted,’ Father Micah interrupted, pushing Sister Ursel out of the way and entering the room. ‘Your prayers must wait, my lady Abbess, for I need to speak to you urgently.’
Rising to her feet, Helewise had swallowed her annoyance and, with a smile, invited Father Micah to be seated.