Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

The monk was shaking his head. ‘I know nobody of that name,’ he said baldly. ‘There are no cases of high fever in our care at present.’ He might as well have added and that’s the way we want to keep it , for it was plainly written on his sour, disapproving face.

Anger rose up in me, but I managed to hold it in. My mission had only just begun, and it would be foolish to make an enemy so soon. I bowed again and said, ‘Thank you, brother. I will pursue my search elsewhere. Good evening.’

I pulled Sibert away, the monk’s faintly surprised dismissal and perfunctory blessing echoing in my ears. ‘Why were you sucking up to him?’ Sibert hissed. ‘He couldn’t have been less helpful if he tried!’

‘I know,’ I hissed back. ‘But he might come in useful later.’

Sibert frowned, clearly trying to work out what I meant. But I had other things to worry about. We had reached the end of the abbey wall and it turned away abruptly to the south. Ahead of us lay the town, and I wondered where in its sprawl of narrow streets and huddled dwellings I was to find my cousin. Think , I commanded myself. Think .

There must have been hundreds of workers there on the island, all of them connected in some way with the new cathedral build, all of them housed in temporary lodgings. Was there, then, a specific area where they were putting up? It seemed likely. I looked swiftly around me. Spotting a plump and cheerful woman of about my mother’s age, holding the hand of a small child, I approached her.

‘Good evening,’ I said, and she returned the greeting with a smile. ‘I’m looking for the workmen’s quarters — my cousin is wounded, and I’ve come to help him.’

Her smile widened and I could have sworn she winked. ‘Have you now!’ she said. I realized, suddenly, what sort of a girl she thought I was, and I felt the hot flush spread across my face.

‘Yes,’ I said simply.

She studied me and her salacious grin slowly faded. ‘Oh.’ Then, shortly, ‘Sorry. My mistake. The workmen lodge down there.’ She nodded down the alley that ran along the abbey wall. ‘Cross the marketplace then take any one of the streets leading off it to the south. There’s a huddle of lodgings down there towards the water, set up in the shelter of the abbey wall.’

She was gone before I had finished thanking her; it was her turn to blush.

Sibert grinned hugely. ‘She thought you were a-’

‘Yes, thank you, Sibert, I know what she thought I was.’ I didn’t want to dwell on that so I set off down the alley, and I heard his footsteps as he fell in behind me. We strode across the marketplace — empty now — and hurried down the first of the alleys leading off it. Presently, the more solid, permanent houses petered out, and we found ourselves in the workmen’s quarter.

You couldn’t really call the dwellings houses. Some were not too bad, although the walls looked flimsy and the roofs must surely let in the rain. Some were no more than lean-tos, and although we tried not to it was all but impossible not to catch glimpses of men huddling round small, inadequate hearths, with cloaks, blankets or even sacks wrapped round their shoulders to keep out the all-pervasive damp. Down towards the water, the plump woman had said, and now I realized what she meant. Space was in short supply on the island of the eels, and the only place to house the suddenly expanded workforce was down on the low ground where nobody else — nobody in their right mind — would want to live.

A man pushed past us, presumably making for his lodgings, then quickly apologized. ‘Didn’t see you there,’ he muttered.

I stopped him. ‘I’m looking for my cousin,’ I said for the third time. ‘His name’s Morcar and he’s injured. I’m a healer,’ I added, in case this man thought, like the plump woman, that it was other comforts I was offering.

The man spun round, and I thought I saw relief in his face. ‘Oh, you are, are you?’ he demanded.

‘Do you know where he is?’ I snapped out.

‘Oh, yes, I certainly do,’ the man replied angrily. ‘He lodges next door to me, and his moans and groans have kept me awake these past nights!’ Then his better nature got the better of him. ‘I’m right glad to see you, girl, and so will he be,’ he said. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the way.’

He set off at a trot along an alley that led off to our right, and we passed several dwellings that gave the impression they were leaning on each other for support. Their walls were made of hazel hurdles on which daub had been haphazardly slapped, and not one of them had a properly fitting door. The man stopped at the one that was almost at the end of the row, and pushing open the door — I noticed that he did not bother to knock — he jerked his head towards a long shape lying on the floor and said, ‘There he is.’

He was about to leave — I could sense how much he wanted to be away from the foetid, stinking little space — but, again, he must have listened to the voice of his conscience. He leaned close to me and said softly, ‘If you need anything, my door’s next one down.’

There were two things I needed immediately. ‘I must have water and I need to mend the fire,’ I whispered. There was a hearth in the middle of the floor — my cousin lay curled around it — but the circle of stones enclosed little more than faintly glowing embers.

The man nodded. ‘Firewood’s behind the house. Water you’ll need to send your man to fetch — ’ I realized who he meant, and I almost laughed as Sibert’s faint snort of protest indicated that he did too — ‘from the end of the track. You’ll find a bucket and pots in the corner there.’ He indicated to where the vague shapes of cooking pots and other utensils lay in a heap.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You’ve been very kind.’ I realized he was swaying with exhaustion. ‘Go and get some rest.’

He bowed briefly and hurried away.

Sibert had struck his flint and was putting a light to a tallow lamp on the floor beside the insensate Morcar. I smelt the fat and registered it as one more unpleasant aroma in the midst of all the others. Then I gathered my courage and looked around me.

The room was filthy. There were the remnants of very old straw on the beaten earth floor, and from the stench I knew it must be sodden with urine and worse. Morcar lay on a thin piece of sacking, and that, too, was soaking. I could see suspicious stains spreading out from his backside. It looked as if he had tried to wrap himself in his cloak, but then the heat of his fever must have made him push it off, for now he was naked except for a linen shift, torn open to the waist, and his hose.

His face was deadly pale. He was soaked with sweat and shivering like a wet dog. I made myself look at his wounded foot and then wished I hadn’t, for it was caked with black blood, oozing yellow pus and it stank of rot.

I glanced at Sibert. He was staring fixedly down at Morcar, his expression a mixture of revulsion and compassion. Before revulsion could win the upper hand, it was time to get him busy.

‘Sibert, please would you build a good fire?’ I said, gratified to note that my voice sounded calm. ‘As quickly as you can, for the first thing to do is to prepare hot water and lots of it.’

Sibert turned his eyes to me. He looked as if he were about to be sick, and I could not blame him. Through my work with Edild I was starting to get used to the various stenches of disease, but all the same I could feel my mouth filling with water as I desperately quelled the heaves that rose up from my stomach.

‘We’re going to clean up?’ he said hopefully.

‘Yes,’ I said firmly. ‘We’re going to make this little room smell as good as Edild’s house, and we’ll wash poor Morcar till he’s fresh as a newly baptized baby.’