Eleanor straightened. A worrisome flush painted her cheeks, but Thomas saw a sparkle in her eyes he had not seen since last autumn and a look not unlike that gleam in a huntsman's eye when he saw a fine boar he wished to kill for dinner.
"My lady is most generous," he said, bowing. Since he had no reason to believe her look was directed at him, he welcomed this sign of returning vigor with joy. Thomas found his prioress' iron will and determination most daunting, but he admired it as well. For once he was not embarrassed by the tremor in his voice. Relief was the cause.
Sister Beatrice tilted her head to one side, her lips easing into a reflective smile. "My niece would not have praised your actions out of a magnanimous spirit, nor would my beloved brother of Wynethorpe. He liked you, he said. That remark, from a man more likely to bark reproach than sing approval, has greater value than the gift of a furred robe from King Henry."
"I am honored," he replied and once again bowed his head, but this act of humility masked amusement. The convent nun and her warrior brother did share a fondness for candid speech.
Beatrice nodded approval. "Courtesy has now been given its due, I believe. We have a problem to solve." She gestured at the monk. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
Thomas blinked. "Ghosts?"
"Aye." The corners of the novice mistress' thin lips twitched upward.
"Forgive my hesitancy, but I am amazed. This is the second time today I have heard such spirits mentioned. Sayer, the roofer, warned me that one was troubling the priory, but I did not take his tale too seriously. He seemed a very merry fellow and quite fond of jokes."
"Indeed he is. Now I would hear what you know of the restless dead."
"Saint Augustine did not believe in them, nor do I think our Brother Aquinas would from what I have been told. Although there have been sightings of saints as well as demons in the guise of humans, there does seem to be general agreement, amongst the wise scholars of the Church, that the dead remain with their own. I bow to their superior knowledge."
"Such sweet phrasing is worthy of a bishopric, Brother." Beatrice raised an amused eyebrow. "Within that speech, I conclude that you do not personally believe in these spirits who some claim rise from their graves after dusk?"
In spite of himself, Thomas grinned in reply.
"Excellent. I concur. Yet others have declared that we have such a phantom nearby, insisting that they have seen it on several occasions. The sightings have become more frequent of late, and there is panic growing in the village as well as amongst our monastics."
"What form has this spirit taken, to whom has it appeared, and when?"
"A man who wastes no time." Beatrice clapped her hands with satisfaction. "I like that!"
Thomas stared at her for a brief moment. Nay, he was not back at Wynethorpe Castle, and he was not facing Baron Adam.
As if acknowledging his thoughts, the novice mistress shook her head. "Our nuns have not seen the creature at all. Some of the men, who work in the nearby priory lands and live in the village, have. Several lay brothers and monks as well. Although they say the spirit has no face, they think it wears a woman's robe.
The majority claim the shade is that of our alleged founder, Queen Elfrida. Based on such imprecise details, I might not conclude that King Edgar's long dead wife has come to us all the way from Wherwell Abbey, but many believe they have seen a crown on her head. The description of that has been both varied and vague."
"You told me others say the ghost is that of a local woman." Eleanor learned forward, resting her chin in her hand.
"Who has also been described as wearing a crown, but this one is made of fiery nails for her spirit comes from Hell," Beatrice replied. "In either case, the shade appears at twilight, when men are returning from work in our fields, or else very early in the morning, especially when the fog rises from the river. She walks along the road by the Avon, although some monks have claimed to have seen her within our walls on priory land."
"So said your roofer." Thomas glanced over at his prioress. "He seemed to think the ghost was the queen."
Beatrice closed her eyes in a brief attempt to hide her disdain for the whole debate. "The first sighting was before Prioress Ida left on her journey," she continued. "A worker saw a woman on the path and, noting her veil and plain dress, thought it odd that a nun would be walking alone outside the walls, especially at that hour. When she drew closer, he saw she had no face. Others have reported that she came from the river, her attire wet as if she had just emerged from the water."
"Which might explain why a few think she is the local woman."
"One reason certainly," Beatrice replied to Eleanor. "Opinions on that vary, but one man went to offer aid. When he saw she had no hands and nothing where a face should be, he ran away."
Thomas began to pace, then asked, "Why do some think the ghost of a local woman would haunt the area?"
"Mistress Eda was the wife of a vintner in the village. After she drowned in the Avon, the crowner and his jury determined that she had committed self-murder. We then buried her in unconsecrated ground. Despite his verdict, there are those who still believe she died by accident and has been wrongly accursed."
"I can understand why the villagers might conclude that the ghost is the vintner's wife, if her corpse was dishonored in burial, but why do so many think your founder has returned?"
"Our young rogue, Sayer, did not give you a clue?"
Thomas felt his face flush. "Aye, he did."
"Come, now, Brother! Surely you know there are those who come to a monastery with little longing for the life, and that others arrive with a vocation but must struggle with the flesh more than they imagined? Our priory has had our share of these and, like any villager who saw them at the inn, Sayer knows them well-as do those of us who are responsible for this priory's reputation."
"He did tell me as well that these monks had repented."
"And he is right. Our prioress made sure the break in our wall was repaired. Those monks who chose to lie between the legs of Eve's daughters instead of praying on their knees for the queen's spotted soul have been punished and now have renewed enthusiasm for the chaste life."
"That the creature continues to bother the priory argues in favor of those who think she is the vintner's wife," Eleanor suggested.
"Or else there was some delay receiving the news in Purgatory that Prioress Ida had destroyed the easy path to sin?" Anne did not betray, by either tone or expression, whether her words were said in jest.
"There is no ghost," Beatrice snapped, the V between her eyes darkening.
"The alleged spirit has committed no violence?" Thomas asked with careful emphasis.
Eleanor's brief smile expressed her approval of this speech.
"An older man fainted, but a companion soon found him. Our Brother Infirmarian treated him and he survived."
"Have most of these sightings occurred outside or within the priory walls?" he continued.
"Nearly all without."
"The king's justice…"
"Lest you think our local sheriff should be interested, I must lay waste to any hope. According to him, no harm has been committed; therefore, there is no crime. Even if some ill had befallen someone, he says that all ghosts fall under Church authority, not secular justice. Besides his evident laziness, he has not the intelligence of your own local crowner, as my niece has told me. I would not trust our fellow to know a ghost from a bed sheet."
Sister Anne chuckled.