Alys Clare - Heart of Ice

She felt the power surging inside it and the shock of it almost made her drop it. She took her eyes off the huge sapphire for an instant and looked at the Domina, who gave a brief nod. Then she returned her mind to the stone, giving herself up to it while it continued with the painful and quite lengthy task of revealing to Joanna just what it was and what it could do.

She had been in the trance state. When she came out of it, it was to find herself sitting on the grass leaning against an oak tree, the Eye of Jerusalem in her lap and Meggie standing anxiously beside her. Caliste had returned; she had brought two stone jugs full of water.

‘Now, Beith, do what you must do,’ commanded the Domina.

This was the moment that Joanna had dreaded. Now that she had held the Eye and felt its incredible power, she was even more reluctant to let Meggie touch the precious thing. The Domina, of course, picked up her fear.

‘The child will be what she is born to be, as I have told you before,’ she intoned. ‘You cannot prevent this, Beith. Give her the Eye and show her what to do.’

Joanna got up and then knelt down beside Meggie, the jars of water before them. She picked up the stone by its chain and said, trying to keep her voice level and to speak in her normal tones, ‘Hold the lovely stone, Meggie. Look! See how the blue jewel flashes as it catches the light?’

But Meggie was no ordinary child, to be beguiled by a pretty plaything. Something in her blood recognised an object of power and at first she was afraid and drew back. Joanna said no more but merely knelt there slowly swinging the stone to and fro. And, in the end, curiosity overcame fear and Meggie took the chain from her mother’s hand and held aloft the Eye of Jerusalem.

There was magic in the air. Tiphaine sensed it; Caliste, who had thought to have put all that behind her when she entered Hawkenlye, felt it too and shivered in dread. Lora squared her shoulders, almost as if she felt the forces swirling around as a physical assault.

The Domina stood unmoving, watching.

Joanna gently touched Meggie’s wrist, careful to avoid the Eye or its chain, and guided the child’s hand until it was right over the first jar of water. ‘Dip the stone into the water, Meggie,’ she said softly.

There was a brief hesitation — the mere blink of an eye — and then Meggie obeyed.

Tiphaine watched.

At first nothing happened.

Then a very faint wisp of steam, or perhaps smoke, rose up from the still surface of the water. The liquid went cloudy and, before Tiphaine’s bewitched eyes, pictures seemed to come and go within the milky swirls. Then the water cleared again.

Meggie still held the Eye submerged in the water. Just as Tiphaine was starting to think that it was over, that whatever magic the jewel had worked was now complete, something else happened.

The water began to shine.

As if a minuscule fragment of a bright star had fallen into it — or perhaps was reflected in it — for the space of a few heartbeats the water emitted a brilliant light. It faded, quite slowly, but when it had gone the water had changed; it was purer, clearer and brighter.

It will work, Tiphaine thought jubilantly. Whatever power is in the stone, whichever god has put it there for mankind’s use, it has had the right effect.

The others were quietly rejoicing, too; nobody spoke, but then they did not need to. Joanna, a smile of pure relief on her face, was encouraging Meggie to dip the Eye into the second jug and, as the same miracle happened, Meggie began to laugh. Lora and the Domina stood a little apart; their eyes were fixed on Meggie and Lora made a quiet remark to the Domina, who suddenly smiled.

Caliste looked as if she were in a dream.

Tiphaine went over to her and gave her a hug; it was not something that nuns habitually did to one another but so unusual and strange were the circumstances that Caliste did not seem to notice. She returned the hug and Tiphaine discovered that the girl was trembling.

‘It’s all right, child,’ Tiphaine murmured. ‘It’s done. Now you and I will take the water down to the Vale infirmary and we shall see what we shall see when we try it out on those most in need of it.’

Caliste raised her eyes to stare at Tiphaine. ‘It will work, won’t it?’

‘Oh, yes, it’ll work.’ Tiphaine gave her a last, bracing squeeze, then turned to bow to the Domina. And to Joanna, still sitting on the ground and looking dazed.

‘May we return with more water?’ Tiphaine asked her humbly.

‘Of course,’ Joanna replied. ‘We shall be here.’

Tiphaine nodded. Then she and Caliste each picked up a jug and hurried off, as fast as they could without risking spilling any water, back to the Vale infirmary.

As they strode along, Tiphaine was trying to work out how she would phrase her announcement; how she would tell senior nuns such as Sister Emanuel and, indeed, Sister Euphemia, who was expected back on duty later in the day, that somehow she had come upon a special type of sacred water that might just do the trick.

That might, when all else had failed, bring the dying back from the brink. The dying who now included, and had done since that morning, the Abbess Helewise.

It was not until quite late in the day that Josse finally realised just who was the latest victim of the foreign pestilence.

He had been busy as Brother Erse’s temporary apprentice carpenter until well into the early afternoon — they’d had trouble fitting the top stanchion of the new handrail, there being nothing but virgin rock to which to fix it — and, by the time Josse was free to seek out the Abbess, he knew that she would already be on duty in the Vale infirmary. Although many nuns, monks and lay brothers were now on the nursing rosters and actively involved at close quarters with the sick, still the rule applied that nobody who was not nursing went anywhere near them. And it was thought that Josse, although he would have taken his turn if asked, was better engaged using his strength elsewhere.

Such as the endless task of water-carrying, which resumed at full capacity once Brother Erse finally announced himself satisfied with his brand-new safety measures.

As soon as Josse took the first load of full vessels over to the door of the infirmary ward, he realised that somebody important to the community was very ill. The faces of the nurses gave that away. And Sister Euphemia, back on duty after sleeping eighteen hours with only a couple of breaks to eat, could be heard from several paces away giving strings of orders to everybody working with her.

It was clear that somebody was close to death; in the late afternoon, Father Gilbert was sent for.

Josse wondered how the Abbess would feel, watching some poor soul that the nuns had not managed to save as he or she slipped away. Well, if whoever it was were sufficiently conscious to appreciate that she stood at their bedside, he told himself comfortingly, then what better farewell could they have to this earth?

He decided it must be dear old Brother Firmin who was dying. It was sad — the old monk had a kind and gentle spirit and a simple, loving heart — but then he was old, so perhaps it was merely that his time had come to be called back to God.

Trudging to and fro between the shrine and the infirmary ward, Josse kept a vision of the old boy in his mind’s eye and wished him well.

Early in the evening, when the short day had already begun to darken, Josse saw Sister Tiphaine and Sister Caliste returning to the Vale infirmary. He probably would not have noticed two more arrivals amid all the comings and goings, except for the fact that the two nuns were moving so quickly that they were all but running.