“She might have been the better choice to care for Father Etienne’s clerk,” Anne said. “The priest was very angry when I arrived to diagnose the lad’s ailment, but he was even more annoyed when Brother Thomas argued for my involvement and with Prior Andrew’s next suggestion that Brother Thomas examine him.”
Eleanor started. “Why was our good brother there? Father Etienne specifically refused his help when he told me about young Jean. That is why I had to ask for a lay brother to go with you and not Brother Thomas.”
“I fear the error in bringing him with us was mine.” Anne bowed her head. “Prior Andrew, Gracia, and I met him on the way to the guest quarters. I was surprised you had not included him in our party so I asked him to come with us.” She looked at the shut door. “Poor Gracia knew the priest had refused to let him examine the clerk…”
“And she said nothing? Poor child! She probably believed it was not her right to contradict an adult.”
“It was not until later that Gracia confessed that she knew he was not supposed to be there. She was in tears over the matter, believing she could have prevented the rudeness suffered by us all.” Anne shook her head and smiled at Eleanor. “She is so much wiser than her years that I often forget she is still a child. I assured her that she owned no fault.”
“And I shall tell her again, for it was I who erred in not telling you more than I did.” She looked down at her hands. “When Gytha was not much older than she, I explained that I welcomed honesty, although I emphasized that it was usually wiser to speak to me that way in private. I shall repeat those words to Gracia and confirm that you are in agreement.”
Anne nodded. She knew how much her friend missed her former maid so was delighted when the young orphan arrived at Tyndal and began to fill the hole in the prioress’ heart.
“The priest’s restrictions made a diagnosis difficult,” the sub-infirmarian continued, “but Prior Andrew gave me enough information from the questions I asked and the observations he made. Growing weary of the awkward method, I suggested he confront Jean about the probable cause of his illness.”
“Which is?”
“Too much wine or ale the night before. The youth finally confessed it.”
“If Jean is wise, he will confess his sin to someone in this priory and not to his master. Our abbess’ brother seems to have little tolerance for weakness or opposition and much faith in the infallibility of his opinions. I fear he may find great fault with the youthful clerk where others might see the need for kind guidance.”
Sister Anne shook her head in sympathy. “What is the purpose of this visit? Has he told you why the abbess sent him?”
“No, but I hope to hear soon. If he has offered any clues, they would be in his welcoming sermons.”
“The brothers were told they owed obedience to righteous leaders. We were warned against incontinent lust. Prior Andrew, Brother Thomas, and I could find no hint in those sermons that related to our priory.”
Eleanor frowned. “Unless someone has suggested to Abbess Isabeau that my leadership is lax and someone is slipping over the walls to whore in the village.”
“No one here has a complaint against your rule.”
“Sub-Prioress Ruth?”
“She has never forgiven you for taking her place as prioress, but, as you have often noted, she obeys you, albeit with ill-grace.”
“Have you heard any rumors about any of our religious breaking their vows?”
Anne looked away. “None except me, my lady. But Brother John has become a hermit, and our meetings were never sinful before my husband left the priory for his hut.”
Allowing the pair to meet was a decision Eleanor often regretted, although she never doubted that the pair had remained chaste. “If that is the complaint, I shall have an answer for it and will do penance.” When her friend started to protest, Eleanor put a calming hand on her arm. “Fear not. I never questioned your virtue or that of your husband. If there was sin, it was in my judgement, not in your acts.”
The two fell silent.
Outside, birds sang to celebrate the last days of autumn warmth.
“If this visitation follows the usual practice for such things,” Eleanor said, “he will send out an army of clerks tomorrow to look for foul drains, cracked floor tiles, leaking roofs, and fruit carelessly left unplucked from the trees. Then he shall demand the accounting rolls to review for errors, irregular rent-gathering, the purchase of frivolous baubles, and other horrors expected in any religious house run by a woman.”
“How can he think that when his sister is Abbess Isabeau, the head of the Order of Fontevraud?”
“He must bow to Rome’s decision that our Order is not heretical, but I suspect he would have concluded otherwise had he been the one to decide.”
“He did tell Prior Andrew that he accepted a woman standing in the place of Our Lady as abbess and prioress in our Order, but all other sisters in this priory must obey the natural rule of men. I believe he does expect to find errors which would not exist if Tyndal were led by a prior.”
“He will be disappointed.” Eleanor shook her head. “I do not fear his review of the accounting rolls, and I know he will find maintenance needed on priory buildings. We have drawn up a list of repairs ourselves, put into the order of importance. He may point these things out. I shall bow my head, thank him profusely, and swear an honest oath that I shall have Prior Andrew attend to these urgent matters.”
“You know what you must face. Why are you still worried? And do not deny it. I know your expressions well enough to read unease in them.”
“The abbess of Fontevraud would have ordered a visit not long after I was given leadership of this place if there had been concern that I was unable to turn the finances of Tyndal around. She did not. All know this was once a Benedictine priory, converted to a double house in the reign of King John. It is old. Repairs are constant. Unlike other houses, we have had no roof or wall collapse, nor have we begged funds for major repairs. When Prior Andrew last traveled to Anjou after Easter, he gave a full report of what we had done, how we planned to address the remaining issues, and a complete account of expenditures. Abbess Isabeau was satisfied, even complimentary.” Eleanor rubbed at her eyes as if longing to see more clearly.
“There is another purpose then.”
“And no one has told me what it is. That troubles me.”
“He must tell you.”
“And he shall, but I do not know what he will do before that. If he believes the priory is guilty of significant wrongdoing, he will not confer with me before he speaks to as many of our religious, choir, and lay, as he deems necessary. In his questioning, he may put my authority and competence in doubt, even if this priory is innocent of any accusations.”
“And who would cast such aspersions on the life we lead here?”
“Who knows what enemies we have made or what person of influence found a treatment, a bed, or a meal here to be unacceptable?”
“Surely this will be a small matter and quickly resolved without such damage,” Anne replied.
Eleanor walked over and gave her friend a hug. “And, God willing, we shall laugh about it after the dust from the hooves of his departing palfrey has settled.”
“In the meantime, I shall go back to my apothecary and prepare the remedy to calm the wine-battered stomach of the clerk, Jean.”
“If God is kind, and Jean heals quickly, our abbess’ brother may look upon the little faults in our priory with a more benevolent eye. Then we shall honor him with a feast of fish and vegetables from Sister Matilda’s kitchen before sending him back to Anjou.”