Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

Slowly, the terror retreated, and Gewis came back to himself. He raised his head, quite surprised to find that his face was wet with his own tears. He heard a quiet cough, realizing only then that there was somebody else in the room. Expecting to see one of his guardians, wearily he sat up and met his visitor’s eyes.

It was not one of the guards, although he saw two of them outside the room, standing in the dark passage.

It was the abbot’s most senior prior.

Gewis shot to his feet. He might not be a monk, but during the short time he had been at Ely he had picked up the habit of reverence from the brethren. The man who now stood before him was second in seniority only to the abbot himself.

‘Please, Gewis, sit down,’ the prior said quietly.

He called me by my true name , Gewis thought. Why, when everyone else here calls me Brother Ailred? Slowly, he sank down on to his thin, hard mattress.

The prior drew up the wooden stool and sat down close to the cot. He studied Gewis intently for some moments without speaking.

Growing uneasy under the scrutiny, eventually Gewis said hesitantly, ‘S-sir?’ Sir was not right. He frowned, embarrassed, as he tried to remember if he should call the prior father or brother. .

But the prior did not seem to have noticed. ‘Are you unwell, Gewis?’ he asked. His tone was gentle, kindly, but Gewis did not entirely trust him. He looked up into the prior’s face. He was a man in the mid-thirties, dark-haired, sallow complexioned, and the intense, brown eyes were small and deep set, their steady gaze unblinking and penetrating.

‘I am quite well, thank you,’ Gewis stammered.

‘You look pale, my son,’ said the prior. He shot a look in the direction of the guards. ‘Not enough time out in the good, fresh air, I expect. Tomorrow you shall have more.’ He frowned, his eyes appearing to take in every detail of Gewis’s face and body. ‘You are thin, I see. Is the food here not to your taste? Perhaps there is some special dish you would like?’

Gewis could barely believe what he was hearing. The food was fine, he wanted to say, better than he was used to. If he ate little of it that was because he still had no idea why he had been brought to Ely, he was very afraid that they meant him harm, he was lonely, he missed his mother and there was something within the abbey that terrified him and which, despite the rumours that now flew around freely between the brethren, nobody seemed prepared to talk about out loud.

He did not feel able to say any of this to the prior.

‘Er. . the food is very fine,’ he managed.

‘Good, good,’ the prior said. ‘And you are comfortable here in this room?’

‘Yes, but-’ His nervousness overcame him.

‘But?’ the prior prompted.

‘But I don’t understand why I’ve been taken away from the others,’ he said in a rush. ‘I was quite happy in the dormitory with the brethren, and-’

‘You are not a monk, Gewis, and therefore you do not belong with them,’ the prior interrupted smoothly, his face twisted in a rictus of a smile.

There was a moment of silence. Then Gewis heard himself say, ‘Then why am I here?’

The prior sighed. Gewis stiffened in fear — surely he had just been unforgivably impertinent and he would receive some awful punishment? — but then to his amazement the prior stretched out a long, graceful hand and laid it on Gewis’s wrist.

‘You are here for your own safety,’ he said. ‘Your existence has long been known to — to the people who wish to safeguard you. You spent your childhood in Fulbourn, hidden away from the eyes of the world. Those who knew where you were did not know who you were; those who were aware of your identity did not know where to look for you. Nevertheless, you were not left unguarded. Those whose concern you are were kept informed regarding your progress as you grew out of boyhood towards manhood. When the time was right, you were brought here to the safety of Ely abbey.’

My mother knew they would come for me , Gewis thought suddenly. He remembered the night that the four burly men had sought him out. His mother, opening the door, had greeted them as if she had been expecting them. When he’d said goodbye to her, she had smiled through her tears and whispered words of encouragement. It had always puzzled him because in that emotional moment of farewell she had seemed so very proud of him. .

Gewis straightened his back, raised his chin and stared the prior in the eyes. ‘What do you want of me?’ he demanded. He was gratified to find that his voice sounded strong and firm.

The prior sensed the change in him; Gewis knew it for he saw it in the man’s expression. But, instead of frowning at his impudence, the prior nodded slowly, and Gewis saw some strong emotion flash briefly in the dark eyes. For a moment he thought it might have been respect.

‘We wish to protect you from those who would do you harm,’ the prior said.

Gewis laughed, a short, sharp, humourless sound. ‘Who might that be?’ he demanded.

The prior shook his head. ‘It is not for me to say,’ he replied smoothly, ‘but you must trust me when I say you have not been brought here without very good reason.’

‘If not you, then who will tell me?’ Gewis persisted. The night was becoming more unreal with every moment that passed. Being permitted to speak his mind to the second most senior figure in the abbey was an unexpected indulgence, and he intended to make the most of it.

The prior was watching him closely as if assessing his mood. Then he said, ‘One is on his way here who will supply all the answers. He is-’

‘He is Lord Edmund the Exile,’ Gewis interrupted. ‘Yes, I know.’

The prior had gone pale. ‘How do you know this?’ His voice came in a low, angry whisper in which Gewis detected anxiety and, watching him closely, Gewis saw him shoot a furious, accusatory look at the guardians out in the passage.

Gewis had no wish to make trouble for his four guards. They might have taken him from his home and brought him to the abbey without a word of explanation but they were only following orders. Besides, they had treated him well; apart from the one incident just outside the abbey walls, when he had cried out and they had silenced him, none had raised a hand to him, and they had always seen to it that he had warm clothing, blankets on the bed and enough to eat and drink. There were worst gaolers, Gewis was sure.

He thought rapidly. ‘I heard some monks talking,’ he said. ‘They said an important visitor was expected, and one of them mentioned the name.’

The prior looked sceptical. Gewis, risking a quick look at the guardians, saw relief on their faces. One even gave him a short, tight smile.

‘Hmm,’ said the prior.

Gewis met his gaze, trying to make his expression innocent. ‘Who is this lord?’ he asked. ‘Is it true that he’s important?’

The prior managed a smile. ‘He is important to some,’ he said evasively. ‘As to who he is, he will explain all of that to you when he arrives.’

‘Has he far to come?’ Gewis asked.

The prior did not answer for some moments. Then he said, ‘Oh, yes.’

He said something else, but Gewis could not have heard right for it made no sense. After the prior left and the door of the little room was quietly closed, Gewis was left alone in the dark with his thoughts.

He had much to think about, but his mind returned again and again to the prior’s final words. Because what Gewis thought he had said was, ‘The blood calls out to him.’

It took me a long time to get to sleep, and in the morning I felt groggy and listless. I recognized that I had suffered a shock last night; more than one, for I had seen a ghost and been kissed hard by a stranger. Stranger. . no, that was not the right word for him, for something inside me had known him, recognized him. . With an effort I pulled myself back from the indulgence of thinking about him and instead addressed myself to the day ahead.