‘And that,’ Helewise interrupted, ‘sounds very like gossip of another kind, but just as reprehensible! Please, brothers, fetch the horses, see if you can beg some provisions from the good monks, and let’s be on our way.’
With one last miserable look in her direction, Saul did as she commanded. Augustine went to follow him, but stopped. ‘Abbess?’ he said softly.
‘Yes, Augustine?’
‘It may not necessarily be just gossip, you know. We should take heed — these rumours don’t grow up for nothing, not in my experience.’
She should have listened. Augustine’s experience, having been brought up a child of the travelling people, was worth heeding.
But she was still suffering from the after-effects of her interview with the Abbot, and reasoning with two lay brothers, wide eyed with peasant dread, did not appeal just then. She said curtly, ‘Please go and help Brother Saul. We leave as soon as we can be ready.’
The sun was low in the sky as they set out. A splendid sunset was painting the sky flaming orange, and small, brilliant pink clouds were puffing up from the cooling land. There were rustling sounds coming from the reed beds which, Helewise told herself, were doubtless waterfowl settling into their roosts.
They rode for some time. Then the weather changed.
A bank of cloud low on the horizon suddenly began to grow, blooming quickly like some weird, black fungus, spreading rapidly up the sky. There was a distant, ominous growl of thunder.
Saul, edging the cob up close beside Helewise, said urgently, ‘Abbess, there’s a storm coming!’
‘Indeed there is, Brother Saul. What do you-?’
But Augustine, in the lead, interrupted. Turning round, he called out, ‘If we proceed to Sedgebeck, we’re going to be drenched. It will take time — we have to find the way, and it’s likely some of the dykes and ditches may flood if there’s heavy rain. But it’s a straight road to Denney, and only another four or five miles — should we not head there, Abbess?’
She thought quickly. Keep to the plan and seek out the convent hidden away in the fens? Or divert and go to Denney?
Another clap of thunder rolled towards them across the flat land. Swiftly making up her mind, she called out to Augustine, ‘Lead us to Denney!’
They arrived as the first raindrops started to fall; big, round and hard as stones, they pounded agonisingly on to the three riders. Helewise tried to cover her head with one hand as she watched Augustine shouting at the porter above the sounds of the storm; he must have known exactly what to say for, after a moment, the big gate was thrown open and they all rode inside.
A couple of sacking-covered figures ran out to help, taking the horses and hurrying them under cover as another figure, also sheltering under a sack, peered out from a partly-opened door and beckoned the Abbess and the two lay brothers inside.
It was only as this figure was removing its sack and speaking words of welcome that Helewise realised it was a man. Hurriedly responding to the greeting, she asked, ‘Is this not the Benedictine house at Denney?’
And the man, who, with the sack fully removed, was revealed as young, fresh-faced and dressed in a black habit, said, ‘No. This is indeed Denney, but you are come to the Templar preceptory. Was it the Benedictines whom you sought, Sister?’
‘It was,’ she replied.
The man cocked an ear to another great rumble of thunder. ‘Then I suggest you delay your mission until morning, and stay with us for this wild night.’
She could almost feel the relief coming off her two companions. With a bow to the black-robed monk, she said, ‘Thank you. We gratefully accept your hospitality.’
The guesthouse of the Templars was luxurious.
Helewise, who was, she reckoned, probably the only woman under the preceptory’s roof, had a room to herself. She was provided with hot water, a delicious meal and a jug of wine, and a fire was lit for her to dry her clothing. She slept soundly, in a very comfortable bed with linen sheets and soft, woollen blankets.
Reunited with Saul and Augustine in the morning, the same monk who had received them the night before led them to a small room, where they were served breakfast. Helewise was just wondering why they were kept apart from the community when the monk said, ‘Forgive us if we appear preoccupied. We are in the midst of grave afflictions that demand our Master’s full attention, and that of our senior brothers.’
‘I am sorry that we add to your burdens,’ Helewise replied.
‘Please, no need for apologies.’ The monk smiled at her. ‘I have been detailed to give you what help I can; may I take you to the Benedictine house, for example? Perhaps if you could reveal your business with the sisters there. . ’
Helewise saw no reason to ignore his invitation. She explained her mission but, before she had finished, the monk had begun to shake his head. ‘Abbess — forgive me for having addressed you as Sister last night — Abbess, I can save you a wasted journey, for the nuns at Denney are most unlikely to have accepted your Sister Alba into their community. The nuns are all — er, mature in years, and without exception have been in the convent many years. Newcomers do not present themselves there seeking to join the community, for the work is arduous, and the Lord calls few to serve Him there.’
Helewise suppressed a sigh. Oh, dear, it looked as though she and the lay brothers were going to have to brave Sedgebeck. She met the young monk’s anxious eyes. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘In that case, we must go on to the convent at Sedgebeck, and enquire whether the nuns there know of our Sister Alba.’
‘Sedgebeck,’ the young monk repeated, frowning. ‘I seem to recall the name. . now where did I hear tell of the place?’ His face cleared and he had just begun on a cheerful ‘Yes, I recall now!’ when the door opened and another, older monk entered.
Without preamble, the newcomer said curtly, ‘Brother Timothy? Your presence is required in the dormitory, where Brother Adam needs you to help him repair the roof.’
The younger man had leapt to his feet. ‘But I was just. . ’
‘Now, please, Brother Timothy,’ the older monk said, in a voice which allowed for no argument.
With a bow to Helewise, and a deeper bow to his fellow monk, Brother Timothy left the room.
The older monk said, ‘You are bound for Sedgebeck, Abbess?’ Helewise nodded. ‘Then I recommend that you leave as soon as the rain stops.’
With no further speech — and no explanation of his remark — he, too, left the room.
Helewise and the two lay brothers saw no other monks before they left. Soon after midday, at last the rain eased up and allowed them to get on their way, and Helewise reflected that, whatever was preoccupying the brethren at Denney, it must be quite serious. Grateful for their hospitality, even if they had been somewhat aloof, she prayed that their troubles would soon be resolved.
They made reasonable progress along tracks made muddy and sodden with rain. Refreshed from a good night’s sleep and a generous breakfast, they did not stop for more than a brief halt and, by late afternoon, Augustine reckoned they could not have many more miles to go.
In the lead as before, he drew rein and, shading his eyes against the sunset, stared out over the wetlands to the south. ‘I can see a rise, there, straight ahead,’ he commented.
Helewise looked where he was pointing. ‘Yes, I see it. Do you think it is Sedgebeck?’
‘Hope so,’ Saul muttered.
‘Come along, then,’ she said decisively. ‘It cannot be far. If we press on, we should surely be there before long.’
They pressed on. But, no matter how hard they tried to steer a straight line towards the rise, obstacles seemed to keep throwing themselves in their path. They would come to a lode just too wide for the horses to jump safely, or just too deep to ford. And, every time they had to divert to the east or the west, the growing darkness made it that much more difficult to discern the faint hump that was Sedgebeck.