Jean’s death, the soldier’s murder, the accusations against her sub-infirmarian, and the initial claims of her own transgressions could be related. Or not. There were too many coincidences to discount a connection. Yet she had few facts, many paths she might follow, and little time to determine what properly fit together for the most logical conclusion.
If only she could learn who had initiated the original claim of immoral behavior, she might be able to decide if everything had the same foul origin. Regarding the guard’s death on the journey here, the event might have been, as Davoir reported, the result of a quarrel between two men. She should leave that matter to Ralf, she thought, but she knew she could not forget about it.
“Dare you investigate this matter at all, my lady?” Anne’s voice was soft with concern. “Might you not be accused of tainting evidence or obscuring facts for your own benefit?”
“Nor may Brother Thomas on the same grounds,” the prioress replied. “I can only pray that Father Etienne does not conclude he must take over the investigation into his clerk’s death since neither Brother Thomas nor I can be trusted to do so.”
“Ralf must examine the body.”
“But the priory is under the jurisdiction of the Church. All he can do is determine cause of death and help in the investigation. Were he to discover the killer, he could not send him for punishment unless the guilty one is subject to the king’s law. Otherwise, the Church decides the penalty.”
“I may have been the source of the accusation of murder against you, my lady, but Brother Thomas remains free of that.”
Eleanor shrugged. “He is not tainted with the claim of murder, but he remains suspect in breaking his vows and doing so with me. He will be watched. We cannot be seen together.”
“How could anyone have accused you both of such acts?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Had this death not occurred, I feel certain that Brother Thomas would emerge from the charge, his virtue untarnished. You know him well. Has there ever been one word spoken against him?”
“Even your sub-prioress has high praise for his piety and goodness.”
“Let us hope she will be half as kind to me,” Eleanor said. “Father Etienne plans to question her first about my own chastity.”
Anne stiffened. “She would not dare…” She stopped, but her tone suggested she thought the sub-prioress capable of doing just that.
“Despite our quarrels over the years, and her justified grievance against me, Sub-Prioress Ruth is a woman of honor.”
“She has no justified grievance.”
“She was elected Prioress of Tyndal before King Henry overruled the priory and sent me to head this place instead. That is grounds for acceptable resentment.”
“And you have honored her by placing her in charge during your absences, including her in discussions about the priory businesses, and treating her with respect.”
“And I have usually not agreed with her opinions on the way the priory should be run, how best to serve God, or even how to pay our debts.”
“You have been proven right in your decisions.”
Gracia watched the conversation between the two older women with fascination. Seeing her interest, Eleanor put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Our sub-prioress owns virtues. Has she not welcomed Gracia to our priory and arranged a fine education for her?”
Anne smiled for the first time. “Even the Devil might accidentally fall into goodness against his will.”
Bending forward, Eleanor whispered, “Be careful, Anne! He might hear you.” Then she grew serious again. “Despite the difficulties strewn in the path, I shall not remain idle in the matter of Jean’s death, even if my involvement must remain secret. Tell me in more detail about the remedy you sent to treat the youth.”
Quickly, the nun repeated what she had said before.
After a moment, the prioress asked, “Can you recall anything odd about the person who came to you? A twitch, an odd way of pronouncing a word, some other habit or identifying mark?”
“I did think it strange that the priest would send a clerk when I had promised to deliver the cure by a lay brother who could answer questions, if needed, about the use.” She paused. “This clerk spoke very softly. I thought he was shy, but when I asked him to repeat something, he seemed unable to do so in a louder voice. I remember hoping he understood what I was telling him. He did not ask any questions.”
“He spoke our tongue well?”
“Yes. But, after I thought more on it, I realize he did have a slight accent. That was why I believed Father Etienne had sent him.”
“And you could not see his face?”
“No. He held the hood around his mouth and nose like we do in bitterly cold weather. At the time, I wondered if he was so cold because the climate where he had come from was so much warmer.”
“The color of his eyes?”
“I could not see in the shadows.”
“Where, I assume, he stayed.”
Sister Anne nodded.
“You gave him the container of ground ginger and chamomile with the instructions. Did he leave immediately?”
The nun stared at her prioress. “No! A lay sister came to tell me I was urgently needed. After I resolved the problem, I returned, but the man had left.” She shook her head. “I did not think I was gone long and assumed he wanted to hasten back to Jean with the cure and, perhaps, had understood my directions perfectly.”
“Was he alone in the apothecary room while you were gone?”
“I thought the lay sister was going to stay with him. When I came back, neither he nor she was there. It is possible that he was alone.” She frowned in thought, then shook her head.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
“It is nothing. I was thinking that I had been called away so quickly by the lay sister that I wasn’t sure I had put the gout remedy back in its place, as is my wont. I must have. It was not on the table when I got back to the hut.” Her smile was wan.
“Who would know best about your routines in preparing cures and where you keep the ingredients? I ask because this person might know if more is missing than should be or if something has been moved.”
“There is one young nun who is showing promise in the healing art, my lady. She might be able to answer your…” Anne put her hand against her mouth.
“You are right. I cannot go there and ask these questions.”
“And Brother Thomas?”
“It would be wise if he did not either.”
Anne covered her face.
Prioress Eleanor reached over and hugged her friend. “Weep not,” she said. “For every obstruction, there is a path around it.” And she turned to Gracia with a warm smile.
The warmth was matched by the eager glow in the maid’s eyes. “I would be honored to help in any way you ask, my lady,” she said.
Chapter Twelve
Davoir nodded curtly at the nun who admitted him to Sub-Prioress Ruth’s empty audience chamber. As he waited to be announced, he gazed at the small room. The few furnishings showed no elegance of form, he thought. Even the prioress owned little that suggested fine craft. How primitive this Tyndal Priory was compared to the abbey in Anjou.
He sighed with annoyance. Perhaps he should have waited until his anger dissipated before meeting with this sub-prioress. Without question, he was a man of good judgement and fairness, with the rectitude expected in one dedicated to God’s service, but grief over the death of his favored clerk had scorched his heart until the pain made him lash out in fury. He had been right, of course, to condemn the incompetent sub-infirmarian, but his passionate denunciation of Prioress Eleanor had been unseemly. He would do penance for that. Later he would also apologize to her, but only if she was innocent of the other alleged crimes.
Sadly, he had no choice about continuing this investigation, no matter what grief he suffered over Jean’s death. His sorrow would not fade any time soon, despite his efforts to will it away, and his obligation had not changed. He must return as soon as possible with a complete, irrefutable report to Fontevraud Abbey.