After a long, anxious wait while Augustine stood up in the stirrups, peering into the gloom, Helewise said, ‘Can you still see the place, Augustine?’
‘I think so,’ he replied, his voice sounding blessedly normal. Then: ‘Aye. We must head along this bank,’ — he indicated to the left — ‘quickly find a place to cross, then go straight ahead. That should do us.’
Saul was muttering under his breath. It sounded as if he were praying.
They found a piece of reasonably firm ground and put the horses at the ditch crossing their path. All landed safely; perhaps, Helewise thought, we should all join in with Saul’s prayers, since the dear Lord seems to be listening.
They set out towards the island. The ghostly shape of a large, home-going bird flew across in front of them, a dark silhouette against the last of the light; Augustus said calmly, ‘Heron.’ And, as the warm, damp darkness seemed to settle around them, they heard the high-pitched, unmistakable whine of mosquitoes.
Slapping at her cheek, Helewise said urgently, ‘Hurry, Augustine!’
But, still calm, his voice floated back to her, ‘No need for alarm, Abbess. It’s best to make our way carefully, let the horses pick out their own path. Don’t worry, they know where it’s safe to tread.’
Fighting down her panic, Helewise took a couple of deep, steadying breaths, and began to pray.
It was fully dark when at last they climbed the slope up on to the island. The wet, heavy clay soil stuck to the horses’ feet, and their hooves made a different sound in the still night.
From the low, reed-thatched buildings ahead that seemed to be the convent came neither sound nor light. Oh, dear God, there’s nobody here! Helewise thought. They’ve fled, or all died of the ague, or run from the demons and devils. .
She heard a low moan from Saul. In front of her, Augustine sat on Horace’s back as if turned to stone. They are my responsibility, these good, loyal men, she told herself. I must not sit here in dread — it is I who brought them here, and it is I who must try to rescue this awful situation. .
Leaping into action before her fear could overcome her totally, she slid off Honey’s back — the horses were not afraid, she noted almost subconsciously, so it couldn’t be that bad — and, handing the reins to Saul, strode up to what looked like an opening in the low wooden stockade surrounding the buildings. There was a hurdle drawn across the gap, which she pushed aside. Immediately some animal that had been penned inside rushed past her and disappeared, with a splash of running feet, into the fen.
Oh, dear, she thought, hoping that the creature, whatever it was, wouldn’t go far. She slid the hurdle back in place again, and went on towards the nearest of the buildings, which was the only one of any size.
Feeling foolish, she called out softly, ‘Hello? Is anybody within? I seek the Abbess of Sedgebeck.’
From inside there was a rustling sound, as if someone were stirring in a bed of straw. ‘Who’s there?’ a loud voice cried. ‘Who comes to disturb our sleep? Be warned, we have dogs we shall set on you!’
‘No!’ Helewise exclaimed. She heard Saul crashing through the gap in the fence, and an instant later he was at her side. He had a cudgel in his hand which, she was sure, he hadn’t been carrying when they left Hawkenlye.
‘This is the Abbess of Hawkenlye!’ he shouted. ‘She comes on an important mission! Open up, in charity, and let us in!’
There was more rustling, and a pad of footsteps. Then a small wooden shutter in the door was slid back, revealing the sudden blinding light of a lantern. A pair of eyes peered out, narrowed in suspicion. ‘Hawkenlye?’ the voice said. ‘Hawkenlye, where the Holy Waters are?’
‘Yes,’ Helewise said, trying to sound calm and reassuring. ‘We mean you no harm, in God’s name. We need shelter.’
‘Hawkenlye,’ the voice repeated. Its gruff tone made it difficult to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman. ‘Aye, that’s a fair step away, I’ll warrant.’
‘We have been on the road a week,’ Helewise began, ‘and-’
Abruptly there came the sound of a heavy bar being drawn back, and the door swung open. ‘Then you’d better come in, you and your manservant,’ said their host.
Who, in the lantern light from within the building, was revealed to be a very tall, strongly-built woman, wearing the sleeping cap of a nun on her head and, covering her from chin to ankle, a voluminous, cream linen chemise, much darned and none too clean.
‘I am accompanied by two lay brothers,’ Helewise said, hesitating on the doorstep, ‘and we each have a horse. . ’
The huge nun glanced outside, taking in at a glance the figure of Saul, just behind the Abbess, and, beyond him, Augustine holding the horses. ‘The men and the horses can go in there.’ She held the lantern aloft, pointing with the other hand towards one of the other two buildings, smaller and less well maintained than the main one. ‘Hardly a stable, since we have no horse, but there’s straw in there for our pig, and it’ll keep out the mist and the fumes of the night air.’
‘Will you be all right, Abbess?’ Saul muttered in her ear.
‘Yes, Saul. You and Augustine get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
She watched them head off for the outhouse. Then she followed the nun inside and closed the door. The nun edged her out of the way and barred it.
Then she turned and stared at Helewise. Indicating a curtained-off area at the far end of the room, she said, ‘The others are in there. I’ll tell them who you are and why you’ve come, then I’ll heat some water and make you a hot drink.’
‘Thank you,’ Helewise replied vaguely.
Tell them why you’ve come. But how could the big nun possibly know, since Helewise hadn’t told her? She felt a shiver of fear run through her. This place, this desolate place, she thought, trying to be rational, must be affecting her. She must have misheard. .
The nun was back within moments. Talking as she moved about, poking up the fire in the central hearth and suspending a pot over it from a tripod, she said, ‘I’ve some chamomile, it will help you sleep. And perhaps a pinch of valerian. There, it’ll soon be ready.’ She fetched an earthenware mug, dusted it on the skirt of her gown, and placed it on the floor beside the hearth. ‘Really,’ she went on in the same conversational tone, ‘we were quite sure we’d seen the last of Alba.’
Chapter Ten
The nun poured hot water on to the herbs she had put into the cup, stirred the mixture with her finger and, after a few moments, handed it to Helewise.
‘Hmm,’ she mused. ‘Think I’ll have one myself.’
Deliberately closing her mind to the filthy skirt and the finger that the nun had used to stir, Helewise sipped her drink. It tasted surprisingly good; there was the distinct sweetness of honey.
‘Now,’ the nun said, settling beside Helewise, ‘you’re here about Alba.’
‘How did you know?’
The woman smiled faintly. ‘We have our share of troubles here at Sedgebeck. Most of them — loneliness, not enough to eat, mist, damp, ague — we can cope with. Alba, however, was beyond our skills.’ She sighed.
Desperately curious to hear more, nevertheless Helewise remembered her manners. ‘Are you — forgive my asking, but are you the superior here? Only. . ’
‘Only you should not speak of such private matters other than to another superior. Quite right, Abbess. .?’
‘Helewise.’
‘Abbess Helewise. Yes, I am the superior. I am Abbess Madelina.’
‘And you are sure that our talking will not disturb your sleeping sisters?’
Abbess Madelina gave a quiet laugh. ‘One is elderly and almost totally deaf, one is sick and has taken a sleeping draught, one is so deep in her communion with Our Lord that she will be hard put to hear the Last Trump when it summons her.’