“No matter the truth, your lust was sinful. Have you done penance?”
“I am here, am I not?”
Thomas struggled not to show his annoyance. My peace has been disrupted, he thought, shattered to no purpose. This ungracious creature suffers no agony of guilt. He has come solely for the sake of appearance. “Have you made retribution for all the maidenheads you have broken?” he snapped.
“None were virgins of rank.” Simon tossed another rock. This one sank the moment it hit the water.
Clenching his fist over Simon’s lack of concern for any injury he might have inflicted, Thomas longed to chastise the young man. Instead, he fell silent, wondering if he had been any more virtuous than this youth. Before he came to Tyndal Priory, he had cared little enough about the women with whom he had lain in London inns. Surely he dare not admonish when he had committed the same transgressions.
None of the women had been virgins, however, and he never forced the unwilling. Surrendering to lust might be sinful for both, but he had tried to give pleasure in return for the relief each woman gave him. When he suggested to a priest that he had done this out of gratitude, the man claimed his intended consideration had been perverted by the wickedness of the act itself.
Sin or not, he had meant to be kind. From the disregard too evident in Simon’s tone, Thomas realized that the young man had not cared at all if the girls had bled without any joy.
Simon leapt to his feet, his hands stretched out in supplication. “Do you not understand? Women are like Eden’s serpent, tempting me to suffer unbearably from lust. After my seed releases, I draw back from them in horror. I am befouled by their reptilian slime. I hear Satan laugh while I weep, knowing how these creatures have corrupted me.”
“We are all born of woman,” Thomas said, trying to calm him with reason. “Even our Lord.”
Simon stiffened. “His mother was a virgin who conceived without sin.”
“Your own mother…”
“There can be no comparison. I may show her honor, a son’s duty, but the woman who bore me was cursed with Eve’s pain and remains imbued with the imperfections of her sex.”
Realizing that the defense of women, even based on the Virgin, would fail, Thomas turned to a more practical matter. “Must you father sons?”
“Only if my lands are restored,” Simon replied, briefly telling his father’s tale and the curse of his name. “My mother hopes to win back my title through service with Queen Eleanor. In this way, she proves the irrational nature of her sex. I see no probability of success.” He spat. “No woman can restore a man’s honor. He must do it himself or he is no man.”
“Since you doubt you will ever recover what your father lost, then turn your back on worldly rank and vow yourself to God’s service. If lust, even within marriage, offends you, find joy in the struggle for chastity.”
“That was your path. Did lust trouble you so little that such a choice was easy? Were there no pleasures for you in the world at all?”
Thomas froze.
“I long for adventure,” Simon continued without waiting for any answer. “If I had a horse and armor, I would leave this land.” He raised his fist. “Fight for glory in tournaments.” For a moment, he hesitated, and then his eyes brightened. “Go on crusade! I could serve God by killing infidels during the day and share tales of great deeds with other men at night. Might that not solve my difficulty? If I could find a man to pay for my needs, I would kill the ungodly on behalf of my benefactor’s soul as well as my own.”
Thomas was so amazed by this sudden turn from lust to killing that he was rendered speechless. Then he heard a sound on the path leading down from his hut, looked up, and breathed a sigh of relief. A friend was about to save him from what had become a most uncomfortable discussion.
“Crowner Ralf comes to join us,” he said. “He is Sir Fulke’s youngest brother and would have better advice than I on matters of war.”
It was Simon’s turn to look discomfited. “Methinks God has just whispered in my ear,” he said, his voice rough with evident fear. He watched as the crowner pushed his way through thick branches. “Do not mention me, if you would be so kind. I cannot talk to the sheriff’s brother now. God demands I pray by myself for awhile until He gives me leave to stop. Forgive me.”
With those words, the youth ran like a terrified deer and disappeared into the brush edging the stream bank.
Chapter Eighteen
“Our meeting is fortunate.” Father Eliduc bowed his head, his voice soft with unfeigned pleasure.
Eleanor smiled with less honest delight. Glancing in the direction of her chambers, she realized that time spent with her accounting rolls, a task not always pleasant, filled her heart with more joy than conversation with this priest. “How may I serve you?” She hoped any request would be minor.
“I have been praying for an opportunity to offer you assistance, my lady.” A large fly buzzed past his nose. He swatted at it.
She would not call his manner exactly obsequious. He was far too clever for an obvious ploy, but she was ever wary of his motives, especially when his eyes narrowed like some creature prowling in the night. “You are most kind,” she replied and assumed that he had some secret purpose.
“Since Baron Otes has been so cruelly slaughtered, I fear Sir Fulke will not be able to participate in the mission on which we were sent by Queen Eleanor.” He inclined his head toward the guest quarters. “And Lady Avelina has not only been troubled by this murder, she has yet to recover her strength from the long journey.”
The prioress nodded, letting silence linger between them.
Eliduc waited and watched as the stubborn fly attempted to land on him.
“I shall take assurances to her that both she and her son are quite safe within these walls.” Eleanor grew uneasy. Did his words imply criticism?
He smirked. “Your comfort would be most welcome, my lady, although I did visit her yesterday when I returned from identifying the body.” His hand shot out, grasped the fly, and squashed it.
Eleanor winced.
“She was long acquainted with the baron, and the violence of his death did trouble her.” He bent to rub his hand clean on the grass. “The Church shall miss him most. He was quite generous, giving many gifts for the care of our least fortunate in exchange for prayers. Have you heard of his charitable reputation from other priories?”
“Not long after he arrived, he came to me with an offer of land as well.” The moment she spoke the words, she knew she had been tricked into that proud reply. Although his scornful tone might have allowed her a remark in mild defense of Tyndal’s status, her impulsive response was ill-considered. In silence, she promised God penance for her imprudence.
His expression brightened. “Then I must congratulate you on this fine gift which shall be used to the glory of God. May I ask where the land lies?” He lowered his eyes with shame. “Forgive me. I am suffering from the frailty of mortal curiosity.”
Taking a deep breath, Eleanor hoped she might make amends with this next response. “The bequest was refused, albeit with much gratitude. Tyndal is a humble priory. I feared the offer was too great a gift for us.” Although he would know this was a lie, courtesy demanded he not pursue the truth by questioning her further. Now she wondered where he might have been leading with this subject.
Clapping his hands together, Eliduc replied, “God will bless you, my lady, for that virtuous act.”
Eleanor was unsure whether or not she should feel relief over his evident delight.
“Forgive me for the digression,” he continued. “Instead of talking about the baron’s death or his recent charity, I had meant to proffer modest advice since other members of the queen’s party may not be able to do so.”
“I am grateful for your concern.” She dropped her gaze.
“I have had the pleasure of visiting your priory before, albeit on sad occasions, and have tasted the food prepared under Sister Matilda’s skilled direction. Although a queen might feast on far finer cuisine than the simple fare meant for humble monks and nuns, I believe our noble lady will find your monastic meals suitable for one on pilgrimage as well as pleasing enough to her taste.”