“Were it necessary to place Mistress Gytha under arrest, I myself would beg you for that mercy you have just offered.”
“Then I shall go to my chambers.” As she passed by her maid, the prioress stopped and drew the young woman into her arms. “I believe you to be innocent of any crime,” she murmured, “and Crowner Ralf will surely concur. He must do his duty, my child, but do not think he takes any pleasure in this.”
Gytha held onto Eleanor for a long moment and then drew back, raising her chin with proud determination.
“Be honest with him. There may be something in what you recall that will give him a detail needed to capture the one who did kill Kenelm.” Quickly, she kissed her maid’s cheek and blessed her. “Have courage!”
Gytha watched the prioress walk from the room, then turned to face the crowner, her expression like that of a woman irrevocably facing her executioner, alone and struggling to retain her dignity.
“Mistress Gytha, I must ask you to repeat all you have told Prioress Eleanor.”
Pale, but voice firm, she did.
Ralf did not once interrupt, but his face turned red and his eyes narrowed. When Gytha had finished, he turned his back on her and strode to the window.
Gytha waited, then trembled with growing anxiety.
He ground his fist into the stones of the wall. “If Kenelm raped you…”
“I remain a virgin.” Her voice cracked. “On that matter, I give you my oath.”
“But he forced himself on you! Kenelm was strong, a large man. How could you have had time to strike him with the rock before he…?”
“I did, but I did not mean to kill him. I only wanted to save my honor.”
“A fine hope!” He spun around and shouted: “But I cannot believe you stopped him in time.”
Gytha’s eyes widened.
“He deserved to die for destroying your chastity!”
“He succeeded only in bruising and frightening me.” Confusion mixed with anger sharpened her tone. “Do not make a mockery of my plight. My sin is a killing that I swear was never intended. Why shout so about a loss that did not occur?”
He shook his head.
Gytha’s face turned scarlet. “Oh, now I see what you are about, my lord. You have decided my guilt. My oath is without merit because I am a woman, and you grieve that Tostig’s sister must now be called a whore!”
“I can defend you against the murder,” he replied, “but you cannot recover…” The crowner covered his eyes.
Anger flashed from hers.
He opened his hands to plead with her. “How can I believe that Kenelm did not violate you? It is against all logic.”
She stepped back from him. “For all your flaws, my lord, I have always called you a just man. Sadly, I find that you are no different from any other, all of whom believe women are besotted with lust. Perhaps you have also concluded that I seduced Kenelm, then struck him so he would not tell how I forced him to couple with me?”
“I do not…”
“In truth,” she shouted, “do not all men demand that their wives bloody the nuptial sheet while they mount other women without a thought to any consequences? And should a man shatter a woman’s virginity without her consent, you, like any son of Adam, cast the woman aside, claiming that the rapist erred only in failing to pray hard enough for the strength to resist her wiles.”
“Gytha!” He slammed his fist against the wooden table and howled with pain.
“Enough!” Eleanor strode into the room. “This woman has been as loyal to me and shown as much love as any who shared my mother’s womb. For that, I respect the truth of her words and shall shield her against all who dare to point condemning fingers.” She glared at Ralf. “And you? You have known her since she was a child and call her brother your closest friend. Surely you owe her even greater loyalty than I, crowner.” Walking over to Gytha, she pulled her close to her side. “This interrogation has ended.”
The crowner nodded and looked away.
“Leave us, my child,” Eleanor said. “He has heard your story, and we have agreed that you shall remain here no matter what he concludes. Seek peace in the cloister garth until I come for you.” Shooting a barbed look at Ralf, she added, “I must speak with this man a brief moment longer.”
Her eyes moist with repressed grief, Gytha fled the chambers, slamming the door behind her.
Eleanor was now alone with a man, against all rules. For once, she was too angry to care. “You should be ashamed, Ralf. I would not have urged her to speak with you had I known you would have treated her with such disregard. You have betrayed my trust.”
He fell to his knees in front of her.
“Oh, stand up,” she said and turned to the table. Pouring two cups of wine, she pushed one into the crowner’s hand.
He drained the cup.
She poured him more. “You, as well as I, love Gytha, yet you have deeply wounded her. My trust may have been betrayed, but your brutal words to her are the greater sin. How dare you doubt her honor and accuse her of lying when she swore she had not been raped. That was more than cruel. That was the act of one in whom God had failed to place a heart.”
He looked like a man facing an eternity in Hell.
“I must forgive the insult to me, because my vows require it, but I am not obliged to forget the wound you inflicted on a good woman.” The prioress glared at him. “Even assuming she had been raped, surely you know that she would never marry you until she knew she would not quicken with Kenelm’s foul seed. And if proof of virginity is truly required, should she ever be willing to let you take her to the church door, Sister Anne will provide it.” She threw up her hands in disgust. “What were you thinking, Ralf! Or were you thinking at all?”
“God has cursed me with lack of wit,” he groaned. “It is not the first time I have spoken so rudely.”
“Indeed, it is not,” the prioress snapped. “This time you shall pay dearly for it.”
Silence fell between them, then Eleanor walked to him and lightly put her hand on his arm. “Aye, you have stabbed her to the heart. Whether or not the blow is fatal we cannot yet know, nor dare we take the time now to consider a possible remedy. For Gytha’s sake as well, the murder must be solved first.” Retreating to a proper distance, the prioress asked: “Do you think it possible that Gytha killed Kenelm even in the defense of her honor?”
“Nay,” he said without hesitation and swallowed the remaining wine. “Nor, as you told me, does Sister Anne.”
“Neither do I.” She pointed to the jug.
He hesitated.
She smiled and poured again. “Someone cut his throat. I did not mention that detail to Gytha. She claims that she only hit him with a rock and that must have killed him. There is no reason for her to hide another wound when she has already confessed to the murder.”
He agreed, then sipped with moderation.
“As we discussed before you were summoned to the riot, there was blood in the ground above the mill. According to Sister Anne, a man bleeds only before death.”
“That means that someone discovered Kenelm still alive, dragged him to the mill, slit his throat, and threw the body in.”
“Or perhaps found him after he dragged himself inside the gate and then cut the man’s throat. That is probably a minor difference, so I say we are in agreement. Unfortunately, we have only Gytha’s confession about striking the man. Unless we find the true killer, suspicion will continue to cloak her.” She raised a hand to stop him from speaking. “Even if she is found innocent because of the circumstances, Ralf, some will always condemn her for the violence unless another is hanged for the murder.”
“That cur, Adelard, will never shut his mouth about it,” the crowner growled.
“As Gytha’s tale points out, there is one more element in this vile tale that must be resolved.” Eleanor’s expression was grim. “Brother Thomas is seeking Brother Gwydo now. When he brings him to me, I will ask why he was outside the priory, how he discovered Gytha, if he saw Kenelm or anyone else, and what he did after her took her to the mill gate.”