"You are awake at last, child," the old woman said. "I did not awaken you because you needed your sleep. You have hardly had any proper rest since you returned home, so busy were you with your poor brother, may God assoil his good and noble soul! Come into the hall now, and break your fast, my dear lady."
"What time is it?" Elf asked, following Ida into the hall.
"Half the morning is gone," Ida said.
"Ohhh!" Then realizing she felt much better than she had in many a day, Elf said, "Where is the lady Isleen?"
"Out riding with that cousin of hers," Ida answered. "She wanted me to awaken you so you might go with them, but I would not let them disturb your rest. You needed it more than you needed to ride with the likes of those two."
"Where is Cedric?" She sat down at the high board. "I must see to the business of restoring Isleen’s dower portion so she may return to her father’s house. He will want to arrange another marriage for her."
"You must first eat and renew your strength," Ida told her mistress in no uncertain terms. "What you put into your mouth would not satisfy a bird, lady! Have they been starving you at that convent?" She signaled the servants to bring Elf her morning meal.
"Gluttony is a grave sin, Ida," Elf replied. "We eat just what is necessary to sustain the body. I have never gone hungry at St. Frideswide's, I promise you. We cook too much food and then waste it, I fear." She bowed her head a moment in prayer, crossing herself. A round trencher of bread filled with hot oatmeal was put before her, and Elf began to spoon it up. A plate with a hard-boiled egg and a small wedge of cheese was set at her elbow, and a goblet of watered wine spiced with herbs put by her hand.
"The servants eat the leftovers, lady, for how else would they be fed but from your table, as is their right; and that which remains is given to the beggars, who frequently come to our door. These wars have not been easy on anyone, I fear, lady. Safe and secure in your convent, you do not know these things, but this is the way of the world."
"And our blessed Lord himself preached charity," Elf replied. "I stand corrected, Ida."
"Eat your breakfast," Ida said, pouring a dollop of heavy cream on her mistress’s oatmeal.
Elf laughed, but discovered she had an excellent appetite this morning. She finished her cereal, and then ate some of the bread trencher with the cheese and egg. When she had finished, draining the last drop of wine from her cup, Cedric came and stood before her, awaiting her sign to speak. She nodded at him.
He bowed politely, then said, "I have gone back over the manor records to determine the exact amount of the lady Isleen’s dower portion, and of how it was paid. It was mostly in coin, which your brother, may God assoil his good and noble soul, wisely set aside. He never touched it, and it still remains in the bag in which it came. The lady brought certain household goods and a palfrey as well. They are all carefully listed, and can be separated from that which belongs to Ashlin manor."
"How quickly can it be done, Cedric? I am certain the lady Isleen is eager to return to her own family, and I wish to rejoin my sisters at St. Frideswide's," Elf told her steward.
Cedric smiled knowingly at his young mistress. "It can be done by day’s end, lady, so that you may all depart Ashlin on the morrow. Will that be suitable, my lady?"
"That," Elf answered him with a small grin, "will be perfect, Cedric. You are a good servant, but then my mother and brother always said it was so. You have not changed over the years."
"Lady, if I may ask a question?"
She nodded.
"What is to happen to us if you return to your convent?"
"As a nun I am not permitted to own personal property," Elf told him. " I shall give Ashlin to my order. There are any number of ways in which they might make use of it. They might found another convent here; or they might lease the manor to a tenant; or they might sell the manor. That will not be my decision, but the one thing I can guarantee you is that the serfs and freedmen who have lived on these lands for centuries, and are as much a part of Ashlin as the lands itself, they will remain here. The Reverend Mother is a wise and good lady. She will allow no harm to befall any of you. On that you have my word, the pledge of Eleanore de Montfort, and you know, Cedric, that the word of a de Montfort is as good as gold."
"Thank you, my lady," the steward said. "I needed to know in order to reassure our people that no ill would befall them with your departure. But we truly wish you would stay with us."
"I cannot. It is not my fate. You may go now, Cedric, and see to the departure of my brother’s widow."
He bowed, and left her. Elf looked about the hall. There was nothing for her to accomplish. Her packing, which Ida would do, would take but a few minutes, and could be done in the morning before she departed her childhood home. I'll go to my herbarium, she finally decided. There were things there for her to do, and the little side garden had grown nicely since it was planted. It would be wasteful not to harvest what she could now, and take it back with her to the convent. Sister Winifred would be delighted. Elf hurried from the hall and down the garden path, waving to Arthur, who was weeding among the roses. She saw two riders coming toward the house, probably Isleen and her obnoxious cousin.
Elf chuckled. Saer de Bude had certainly given her a wide berth since their encounter by the linen cupboard. As she thought back on it, she had no idea why she had vomited her breakfast on him, for she hadn't been afraid of him. He simply revolted her, and, after all, it had been the time of the month when her link with the moon had been broken. Still, it had certainly put him off, for which she was grateful. Her tears had been those of frustration and relief. And Arthur had cheered her up as he often had when they were children and she had been frightened. She realized now that his friendship was one of the few things she had missed about Ashlin, and it would be very sorely missed again. She was giving up a great deal, she realized.
But was not sacrifice a part of the religious life? Still, was there any truth in Isleen’s contention that she was pursuing her own desires instead of accepting her obligations? After all, did not all things come of God? Eleanore de Montfort shook her head. Her very thoughts were the most disturbing she had ever known. There had never been any doubt in her mind that she was one of God’s chosen brides. Why was she even considering the possibility now that she wasn't? The devil! It was surely Satan tempting her! She crossed herself and entered the herbarium, noting the hearth was cold.
I will make some elixirs and salves today that I may carry with me, Elf decided. She called to Arthur, "Go up to the house, and bring me some coals from the fire so I may start my own. Cedric will give you a pan in which you may carry them."
"At once, lady," Arthur called back, dashing off.
Elf went to her well, drew up a bucket of cool water, and brought it into her shed. She used some of it to wipe off the slate-topped table upon which she worked, then placed the bucket on the floor beneath her table, and took down from a shelf several mortars and pestles. After going out into her garden, she picked the biggest greenish yellow leaves of her lettuce plants, and brought them back into the herbarium to wash.
Elf filled a kettle and added the lettuce leaves. Boiled down and made into a syrup with honey to both thicken and sweeten it, it could be reconstituted into a soothing tea that would cure spider bites, but was also useful for bringing sleep in a manner very much like poppies.
Next she took down a sheaf of horehound leaves that had been drying for some weeks. She crumbled the leaves slightly, then added them to a mortar, and began to pestle them into a fine powder that she transferred into a stone jar. The powder would make an excellent tea, or a syrup. Horehound was known to cure jaundice, bad coughs, and was also beneficial for fading eyesight, always a problem among the convent’s elderly nuns.