“He did not…”
“I remained a virgin but at a deadly price.”
Eleanor reached out and touched her maid’s cheek with sympathy. All this had happened in the forest, she realized. Kenelm had not been on priory grounds.
“He lay still and his head was bleeding,” Gytha continued, “but I was terrified, both of him and what I had done. All reason fled, and I ran deeper into the forest. Then I fell down the embankment. I must have struck my head, for I remember nothing more until I awoke.”
“Do you know how long you were senseless?”
“Nay, but when I recovered, Brother Gwydo was kneeling next to me.”
“What did he do or say?” The prioress studied Gytha’s face for signs of unease but saw none. Had Adelard witnessed just this, his overheated imagination might have concluded they had lain together. Or could he have seen Kenelm wrestling with the maid on the ground instead and, seeing Gwydo a short time later, assumed the two men were one?
Eleanor was perplexed. There was no reason for the baker’s son to conclude it was Gwydo he had seen when it was Kenelm. If there was light enough to see anything, the youth could have told the difference between the short but stocky former soldier and the tall, broad-shouldered stranger.
“Nothing dishonorable, my lady.” Gytha flushed. “He asked if I could stand and assisted me when I struggled. Then he led me to the mill gate.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I think he asked if I could go the rest of the way by myself but I am not sure. I cannot recollect, but I was alone by the time I climbed the stairs to your chambers.”
“You said nothing of this to anyone before now.”
“I did not. The hour was late. You had gone to bed. I lay down and tried to sleep. The memory of all that happened was both too vivid and too much like a dream. I neither had the courage to speak of it, nor did I know how to do so. Then Kenelm’s body was found…”
Not in the forest but in our mill pond, the prioress added to herself. “When Brother Gwydo took you to the priory gate, did you remember if you passed by the spot where Kenelm lay?”
Gytha shook her head.
“Did you tell our lay brother what had happened to you?”
“I doubt it, my lady, for I was ashamed, but I cannot recall.”
And where might the lay brother have been going that would have precluded him from taking her to the hospital or otherwise seeking care? Perhaps he had seen Kenelm attack Gytha and witnessed her flight into the forest. That would excuse his departure from priory grounds if he sought to help her. It would not explain why he had failed to make sure Sister Anne examined her.
“I killed Kenelm, my lady!”
“Yet his body was found in the mill pond, not in the forest where you left him. You must be honest with me, for I shall do all I can to help. Did you and Brother Gwydo drag his body into our priory grounds and push it into the stream?”
Gytha put her hands over her face, fighting to recover her memory. Then she shook her head. “All I recall is walking through the gate, then nothing more until I was climbing the stairs to your chambers. I cannot swear an oath that we did not do such a thing; neither can I say we did.”
“You do not remember seeing Kenelm again?”
“I can recollect nothing about him at all after I fell down the bank.”
“Do you recall whether Brother Gwydo followed you back into the priory?”
Gytha hesitated, then suddenly looked horrified. “Might he have seen Kenelm lying on me, witnessed the killing, and tried to hide my sins by throwing the corpse into the mill pond?”
Eleanor leaned back in her chair. He might have done so. She would question him about it as well as the reason he was outside the priory. Although she could not completely dismiss the possibility that her maid had killed Kenelm with the blow to the head, Anne had not believed the wound to be fatal. In any case, she did not think Gytha was lying to her, nor did she think the maid had deliberately left anything out of her tale.
One crucial question remained unanswered: who had slit the man’s throat and why? Gytha had not mentioned this detail, and Eleanor knew the evidence suggested that Kenelm had suffered the certain fatal wound after the blow to his head.
“My lady?”
“Forgive me. I do not know if the lay brother did as you suggested. When Brother Thomas brings him to me, I shall question him about this.”
Gytha looked away. “I regret any sorrow I have brought on him. He was kind to me when I needed aid, and no one here has ever spoken ill of him.”
“I shall not forget his gentler nature. Should any rebuke be required, it will be for something he took upon himself.”
“But surely you cannot keep me in your service if I killed a man, my lady.” The maid’s face was pale, but she stiffened with resolve. “I will accept the punishment I am due.”
“Of course, you will continue to serve me. You struck a man who did violence against you. For that, I find no fault that cannot be cleansed through confession. Yet I must still summon Crowner Ralf.” She bent forward and took Gytha’s hand in hers. “You are obliged to tell him your tale as well, my child, but we both know him to be a just man.”
What she omitted saying was that the king might not find reason for clemency if Gytha were judged guilty of Kenelm’s death, even if she protested that the deed was committed to protect her virtue. Other than the possibility of Brother Gwydo, there were no witnesses who could confirm the truth of her allegation. If asked, Adelard would say he had seen the maid and lay brother together and swear he had observed sinful pleasure. That would destroy Gytha’s claim to chastity and any statement by Brother Gwydo. The only hope was that the one who slit Kenelm’s throat could be found.
Although the maid was not under the Church’s authority, the prioress decided she would beg the king’s leniency should Gytha be found guilty of murder. King Edward would set a price for such mercy, and Eleanor now swore a silent oath to pay it.
Gytha nodded and fell silent. Her expression spoke of both grief and resignation.
19
Eleanor watched her maid and the crowner look away from each other. Had she not already concluded that the love between them had grown to the point of imminent confession, she would have known it now. Sadly, this encounter would be a far less joyful moment. She grieved for the pain both must be enduring.
Ralf cleared his throat. “I must speak with Mistress Gytha alone, my lady.”
Gytha turned to look at the prioress, her eyes begging for the mercy of Eleanor’s company.
The prioress nodded with an equal measure of reluctance and firmness. “I know you must, crowner. But I shall remain in my private chamber, with the door left open for propriety. There is no one else who could be spared to attend this interview, the details of which we all pray shall remain private.” A lie, of course, and surely he knew it, but after all these years of friendship, she had learned to read his face well. He did not want her completely absent, any more than Gytha did, and none of them wanted to chance disclosure by another about what would be spoken here.
As expected, he muttered concurrence.
Folding her hands into her sleeves, she looked up at Ralf, her expression stern. “No matter what you resolve to do after hearing what Mistress Gytha has to say, be advised that I shall defend her with every means at my disposal.”
“I would expect no less, my lady.” Ralf’s demeanor was formal, but his voice shook.
“Nor shall you take her from this priory. I give you my sacred oath that she will arrive when summoned for trial, if such be needed, but I will not have her dishonored by confinement in some foul prison cell.”