Chapter Six
Father Etienne scowled with displeasure.
Thomas was certain that the man’s disapproving glance was the result of the equine stench. Fortunately, he caught himself before laughing at the priest’s grimace of distaste.
“We have come to see your sick clerk,” Prior Andrew said.
Sister Anne bowed her head and stood meekly behind the prior.
“Jean is resting,” the priest replied. “His bowels are loose, his head aches, and he has vomited. Those are his symptoms. I assume you will want to see his urine, Prior Andrew.”
The prior glanced at the nun behind him.
She shook her head.
“I am not trained in medicine,” Andrew replied.
“Sister Anne is known throughout England for her healing skills,” Thomas said, his patience swiftly thinning with this odd conversation when there was a patient to see. “Men of high rank come from the king’s court to seek her remedies. A renowned London physician has sought her advice. If your clerk needs healing, you could not ask for…”
“Did I seek your opinion, Brother?” The rebuke was given in a soft tone, but the words possessed sharp edges.
“You did not, but I…”
“Then remember the sermon I have just preached to you in the Chapter House. Obedience demands humility. As the emissary of your abbess in Anjou, I outrank you. You should not speak unless addressed and never give an opinion until asked. Stay humble, my son, and God will embrace you.” The priest tilted his head and gave the monk the forced smile of tolerance a father might give his son when the lad had repeated an error for which he had already been scolded.
Thomas knew his face had flushed with anger but bit his tongue and bowed his head.
“Now,” the priest said, turning to the prior, “I understand your nun has skills in the healing arts, but my clerk is a modest youth who longs to take full vows. To inflict the presence of a woman on him in his weakened state would be a cruelty and a gift to the Prince of Darkness.”
Andrew started to reply.
Davoir raised his hand. “What I propose is this. You shall go into the room and examine my clerk. You need not take a sample of his urine since you do not have the knowledge to interpret the signs in it, and this nun would not have been trained in that. You may then come to the door and present your observations to this nun. She may learn from that what is troubling Jean.” He glanced with ill-disguised disdain at Sister Anne.
“I suggest that Brother Thomas take the responsibility,” Andrew replied. “He is more observant and better trained in the needed skills than I.”
“You shall do this, not he. I had specifically asked for an apothecary monk or the prior because the sub-infirmarian is a woman who may not touch my clerk or even the flask containing his urine. When Prioress Eleanor recommended Brother Thomas, I deemed her choice unacceptable for reasons I need not explain.”
Gracia’s face reddened with shame.
Despite his sharp words to the adults, the priest looked with gentleness on the girl. “I assume Prioress Eleanor saw fit to contradict my request,” he said to her.
Glancing at the frightened girl, Sister Anne said, “It was my decision.”
Thomas saw anger dancing in the nun’s narrowed eyes.
She stepped forward and looked boldly at Davoir.
He drew back as if afraid she might come too near.
“We met our brother on the path here,” she said, “and I asked him to come with us. His observational skills and judgement are respected at the hospital and in the village. Surely I need not mention his reputation and that of our prioress in matters of justice?”
“My sister, the abbess, has fully informed me of these tales, knowing that such news from England is not always of great concern to the French court.” Davoir shook his head. “All this may suggest some medical competence, but I remain amazed that there is no monk, fully trained in medicine, in charge of the hospital. How can you manage cures without a doctor who can read the vital signs found in urine?”
Thomas caught himself wondering how a man who had just lectured him on humility could sound so vain. Did this priest really think that he could change a situation, deemed by him to be improper, merely by willing it to do so?
“Since our abbess has made you aware of this fact, you will understand why I called upon his skills in this important matter of your clerk’s health.” The sub-infirmarian deliberately ignored his remark about an infirmarian monk.
“You and I differ on the issue of what is best for the lad’s well-being.” Father Etienne turned to the prior. “Since my sister leads the Order of Fontevraud, I both understand and respect the premise of a woman leading men as the earthly representative of Our Lady. This otherwise unnatural situation applies only to the abbess and the prioresses of her daughter houses. It does not apply to the nuns within each priory.”
Prior Andrew paled and said nothing.
“They must, as is a woman’s lot, follow the rule of men as it is we who represent the higher spirit while women are but lowly flesh.” Davoir gestured to the prior. “You will do as I direct, Prior Andrew, and examine my clerk. Sister Anne, you will await his observations and, if required, my further instructions.” He spun around and pointed. “Brother Thomas, you may leave the quarters.”
“As you wish, Father, but I beg one favor,” the prior replied. “Since I must speak with Brother Thomas as soon as we leave about some complex matters, I ask that he remain so I do not have to waste time finding him again.” Andrew looked dutifully sheepish. “Such a boon to me would be most kind.”
Brother Thomas tried hard not to grin at the prior’s cleverness.
Davoir nodded. “As you will.” He waved at the monk. “Stand near the door where you will not interfere with the consultation.”
Thomas did as he was ordered but was pleased to note that he could still overhear most of what Sister Anne and Prior Andrew discussed.
As expected, the consultation took much longer than needed. In one thing only had Davoir been correct. Not being a physician, Sister Anne rarely examined the color, smell, texture, or taste of a patient’s urine, although experience and observation had taught her a little. She had chosen not to mention that detail to Davoir.
But she was a skilled apothecary, and Prior Andrew, a former soldier and untrained in the medical arts, had no idea what he should be looking for. Had the matter been less serious, the back and forth discussions between the pair might have been humorous.
Finally, Sister Anne had had enough and muttered instructions to the prior. The process went much faster. When Prior Andrew next emerged from the clerk’s sickroom, Sister Anne whispered some words into his ear, and he turned to address Father Etienne.
“The illness is not dire. Your clerk may have eaten something that did not agree with him. The hospital has a remedy for the humor imbalance, but it must be prepared. We will deliver it to you as soon as that is done. The lay brother will bring instructions on dosage.”
Pleased, the priest thanked Prior Andrew, ignored Sister Anne, blessed Gracia, and dismissed the party from his presence. Thomas had already slipped out of the chambers.
***
As they walked back to the hospital, Sister Anne laughed. “From what our good prior told me, the youth suffers from too much wine drunk at dinner last night. He almost vomited in our prioress’ chambers, coughed to hide the affliction, and swallowed the bile. Then he gagged in the attempt. Poor lad! He denied the excess at first, but his symptoms pointed to a sour stomach and an even more painful head. He confessed all when our prior promised not to tell the clerk’s master.”
“An ailment most clerks suffer frequently enough,” Thomas replied with a grin. “I am sure that Father Etienne sleeps deeply in the arms of righteousness, but his clerks may dance in the embrace of imps while he does.”
“Surely he knows this!” Prior Andrew gave an almost accurate imitation of amazement.