With two silent monastics trailing a respectful distance behind them, Sister Beatrice and Prioress Eleanor walked along the path by the Avon.
The novice mistress stopped, put her hand on her nieces shoulder, and bent her head toward the opposite bank of the river.
Following the direction of the gesture, Eleanor saw Mistress Jhone approach that muddy and weed-infested burial ground reserved for corpses whose souls had been damned by God.
"She visits every day," Beatrice said to her niece.
The widow walked to the far edge of the graveyard, fell to her knees, and covered her eyes.
"Why?"
"That is where Eda is buried. It matters not that some believe she is the ghost that haunts this byway. The two were childhood friends and loved each other like sisters."
"When she spoke of her to me, she did not mention that she came to visit her grave."
"Her husband disapproved."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "I did not think she ever dared to go against his wishes."
"She has not always been as compliant as she would have others believe."
"How so?"
"She may bewail her sister's marriage to the base-born Wulfstan, reproaching Drifa for her itching lust and opposition to their parents' wiser choice of spouse, yet Jhone herself married after her maidenhead was breached and to a man her parents did not like. As many do, she forgets her own sins and condemns others for a like foolishness, while claiming a virtue she does not have."
"The woolmonger got her with child?"
"She bore a daughter, one that died at birth. Her new husband fell into a rage, claiming the child's sex was God's punishment for their sins. He longed for a son, but she only gave him girls. All but Alys failed to thrive. I do think he had always been a wrathful man, but his beatings grew more numerous after each failure to prove his seed strong enough for boys. One night he struck her until she miscarried the very lad he wanted. After that, she could not conceive. He lost himself in drink."
"I now understand why the mother refuses to let her daughter marry the man she wants. The widow's own choice was a tragic one, and she must fear that the girl will make the same mistake."
"She does. Yet she adores her Alys and, for all her faults, Mistress Jhone is not a cruel woman. I think her heart wishes she could let her daughter marry the glover."
Eleanor looked back across the Avon. The woolmonger's widow still knelt in the grass near her friend's unclean grave.
Falling into quiet thought, she and her aunt continued on their way down the path that now twisted away from the river and nearer to the priory walls.
"What do you know of this Sayer?" Eleanor asked, breaking the silence.
"A scamp like his father was in his youth, but I find no real evil in him." Beatrice's smile was affectionate.
"Mistress Jhone says her husband believed Wulfstan's son may have seduced the vintner's wife. Out of guilt for the sin committed and not from the pain of her illness, she killed herself."
Beatrice raised one eyebrow. "I would not put much credence in the word of a man who was often so drunk he could not walk the short distance home and passed out where the night soil was tossed."
"Moreover, she said her husband thought the roofer deliberately displayed his nakedness to foster carnal longings in the loins of chaste nuns."
"My dear, I was too long in the world to pretend I do not notice a handsome man, but, if Sayer strips for his work, he does so only on the monks' side of the priory. On the rare occasions that anything needs repair in the nuns' cloister, he willingly bundles himself so modestly that I fear he will sweat himself sick on summer days."
Eleanor laughed.
"As for seeing Eda with Sayer, I wonder who told Master Woolmonger that tale? I myself do not believe it."
"Alys hotly denies that her cousin would do such a thing and says her mother's friend was an honest woman. Maybe she knows the source of the story. I shall ask."
"Do not think I am easily deceived about Sayer. He is no innocent. After Prioress Ida hired him, a monk admitted that the roofer had arranged a tryst for him with the local whore at the village inn."
"I thought Prioress Ida had put a stop to this?"
"She told Sayer that she would not allow him to continue working for us if he abused her kindness by leading our monks into sin. She said he was shamed by her discovery and even willingly told her where the breach in the wall was, although Brother Jerome had already taken her to the place."
"A break which she caused to be repaired. Do you believe he was truly repentant or has he continued this wicked business?"
"The vow of chastity is renewed in our priory, but I would not swear to that of others. Our innkeeper claims he himself has never bothered with the morals of monks. Those who travel and come to his establishment have dry throats, he says, and he serves them ale or sells them meat for their stomachs. What other needs they might fulfill is none of his affair, although he claims he does not sell women. I have reason to know he lies.' Beatrice shook her head. "Did the lad not suggest to Brother Thomas that pleasures could be found at the inn for monks who were but visiting? Fortunately, I gather your monk succumbed only to wine and not to the women who served it."
Eleanor's face grew hot with color. "Sister Anne gave him some remedy for his head, I believe. He slept in the grass not far from the priory gate," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Yet you tolerate Sayer despite all of this?"
"I am fond of young men, having married one many years ago and borne him two sons. Aye, despite his rakish ways, I like Sayer. Although Satan holds his soul in his hand at times, he is a caring man who longs to do the virtuous thing but does not always succeed. In many ways, he is still a boy, unmarried and unsettled in his life. His father may have been querulous on occasion but he was a good man in sum, and I see much of Wulfstan in his son. A worthy wife will do much to take Sayer from his wayward path. "
"If Satan does control him, why do you not believe he might have seduced the vintner's wife?"
"Although he leads others into carnal sins, I have never heard any rumor that Sayer himself is unchaste with women." Beatrice chuckled. "I know his mother. No son of hers would dare take a girl's maidenhead unless he brought her to the church steps as Wulfstan did with Drifa."
"Perhaps Brother Thomas will hear more about this tale of adultery and ask Sayer about it when he sees him." She looked up at her aunt and grinned. "Or his mother, whom he may also visit this day."
Unable to resist, Beatrice reached for her niece's hand and squeezed it gently. "I am so glad you came back to us, my child. I have missed your company so very much!"
In happy silence, the two women continued to stroll along the river bank.
Suddenly, Eleanor pointed to a spot at the edge of the Avon. "Was it here that Wulfstan's body was found?"
Beatrice shaded her eyes against the strengthening sun and looked around. "I think this is the place, although my aged memory may be failing me. Brother Infirmarian described the place so."
"Aged indeed!" Eleanor's expression glowed with both love and humor as she bent over and parted the weeds with one hand. "Ah, here are marks in the mud. Someone slid just there and here they trampled the reeds. Unless Wulfstan was killed by several men, this must have been where his body was found." She looked up and followed her aunt's gaze. "Is that where the wall was broken?" Eleanor wended her way through the knee-high weeds in the direction of the stone fence.
"Aye," the novice mistress replied, following along.
The Prioress of Tyndal folded her arms as she studied the masonry. The silence was broken only by the harsh cry of a nearby crow.
"Did Prioress Ida have this done by the monks or did she hire the work done?" Eleanor ran her fingers over the mortar.