Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

I had not realized how exhausted I was. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to daylight, sunshine was filtering through the cracks around the door and there were sounds of people stirring in the houses either side of me.

The new day was here.

I took advantage of being alone in the room. I heated water, stripped to my skin and washed, then quickly dressed again. I had spread my gown in front of the fire while I slept and now it was more or less dry. I combed out my hair and re-braided it, then I made myself sit down and eat some breakfast. The bread was dry, but I was so hungry that I barely noticed.

As soon as I had finished I set about my self-appointed task. I had remained in Ely to make the killers think Morcar was still there, being looked after by me; it was time to make a start. I tied a clean, white cap over my neatly braided hair and set off.

I knew where the apothecary’s shop was situated; I had spotted it as Sibert and I had searched for Morcar. Now I pretended to be the dullest-witted healer ever to walk the earth, asking again and again for directions and finally, with a flirtatious little smile, forcing a young merchant to walk me right up to the shop door. The more people that got to hear of the silly young healer who could not find her way, the better. From the apothecary I was careful to buy the ingredients I would have required to go on treating Morcar; I needed them in any case, having used up almost all of the supplies I had brought with me. Then I went up to the main gate of the abbey and, very meekly, asked if it were possible to speak to the infirmarer.

The monk at the gate said, ‘We do not permit the entry of lay women into the abbey save with special permission.’ He was a different type from the monk I had seen on my first day, a nicer, more charitable type, for he managed to put regret into the official words, and he looked at me quite kindly.

‘I see,’ I said, eyes cast modestly down. ‘I am sorry to have troubled you, brother.’ I gave a sad little sigh.

As I turned to leave he said, ‘Wait.’ I stopped. ‘What did you want with the infirmarer?’ he asked.

I risked a quick look up into his face. ‘I am nursing my sick cousin,’ I said. ‘He fell in the ditch and has a fever, and he also has a deep wound in his foot.’ That ought to be sufficient to describe Morcar, if anybody were interested. ‘I’m doing my best to treat him — ’ quickly, I reeled off the standard remedies for fever and grave wounds — ‘but I wanted to ask someone with much, much more experience than I have if I’m doing right.’ I bit my lip, staring at my boots.

There was a pause. Then the monk said, ‘Wait here. I will send word.’

I waited. I wanted to cheer with jubilation, but I restrained the urge. Presently, my monk returned. ‘He’s on his way,’ he muttered. Then he went back to guarding the gate, glaring out across the street as if pretending to be the very last monk in the abbey to be caught in a simple act of kindness for an anxious young healer.

I waited for some time. Then a gruff voice behind me said, ‘I’m Brother Luke. Are you the girl with the fever patient?’

I spun round to him, bowing my head as I admitted that I was. Curtly, he ran through his version of how I ought to care for my cousin, which was pretty much what I’d been doing anyway. When he’d finished, I thanked him profusely and, reaching into the little leather purse at my waist, took out a coin. ‘Please put this in the poor box, Brother Luke,’ I said.

He looked at it, surprise in his eyes. I had given him more than I could afford, but I wanted to make quite sure he remembered me and, hopefully, spoke of me to all his brethren.

It was almost midday before I returned to the little house. I knew someone was inside, for the leather strap that I had wound around the latch to hold it firmly closed was hanging loosely from a nail on the door post. Hoping it was Sibert, I went in.

Sibert lay fast asleep on the straw mattress, mouth open, snoring rhythmically. I found myself smiling broadly; it was such a relief to see him. I burned to ask him if Morcar was all right, but he needed to sleep. I left him to it and set about unpacking the clutch of small, linen bags containing the supplies I had purchased from the apothecary. You just never knew when you might need a fever remedy. .

Sibert woke up late in the afternoon and said he was hungry and was there anything to eat? While he slept I had been out to find food, and I had prepared a generous meal. I’d visited the area where stalls had been set up to serve the huge workforce, buying dumplings made of flaked fish, flour and spices, a bread and mushroom poultice, a pot of honey-glazed carrots and slices of a sweet loaf flavoured with ginger, spices, berries and walnuts. I also had a jug of mead. I had spent far more than I ought to have done — we would have to exist on meagre supplies from now on, unless Sibert managed to go foraging — but there was something that I had to ask Sibert to do, and I badly needed him to agree.

We ate hungrily, having first raised our mead cups and drunk to Morcar’s good health. Sibert had already told me he was all right and had survived the journey; the first thing he’d said when he woke up — well, actually the second, after I’m hungry — was, ‘Don’t look so worried, Lassair, Morcar’s tucked up safely at Aelf Fen and both your aunt and my uncle are looking after him to the very best of their abilities.’

I made myself relax as Sibert and I worked our way through our feast. It was too good to waste by being so anxious that I didn’t notice what I was eating. When we had finished and were relaxing on our straw piles, I gathered my courage and said, ‘Sibert, we can’t stay here for ever pretending to nurse a man who isn’t here. Sooner or later someone will discover the deception, and besides I’ve got better things to do with my life.’

Sibert grinned. ‘Me too.’

‘We have to find out who tried to kill Morcar and why,’ I hurried on, ‘and so far the only thing we have to go on is that strange scene that he saw at the abbey gate.’

‘Yes,’ Sibert agreed. ‘The pale boy who doesn’t want to be a monk.’

It was a grand conclusion to draw from such a small incident but, as I had just said, all we had. If it had been this that Morcar had seen, and that the killers had to keep secret, then it was indeed the right place to begin. Before I could start to doubt myself I said, ‘You’ve got to go into the abbey, Sibert. You have to find this pale-haired boy and speak to him. If he’s there against his will, we’ll try to help him. Even if we can’t, we must tell someone — ’ the abbot, I supposed — ‘and bring the whole thing into the open, because only then will the killers stop hunting Morcar.’

Sibert obviously followed the logic of this, nodding as I spoke. Then he fixed me with a glare and said, ‘You said you must go into the abbey. Don’t you mean we ?’

I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Then I said, as calmly as I could, ‘No, I’m afraid not. It’s an abbey full of Benedictine monks and they only admit lay women when they really have to.’

‘You’re not a woman, you’re a healer,’ Sibert protested.

I knew what he meant. ‘Yes, but I don’t think they make the distinction.’ I explained about my visit that morning and how, even having described myself as a healer, I had not been allowed in.

‘Oh.’ He sounded forlorn. Accepting, but definitely forlorn.

I reached over, the mead jug in my hand, and topped up his mug. ‘Come on!’ I said bracingly. ‘A man who has just rowed across half the fens and back again is surely not afraid of a bunch of monks!’

He grinned. ‘It’s not the same,’ he said vaguely.