Alys Clare - The Chatter of the Maidens

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.

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.