Alys Clare - Ashes of the Elements

Following Petronilla down into the courtyard, he began his speech of thanks and farewell.

Helewise did not forget her undertaking to notify Josse if any developments occurred. But, other than Seth Miller being charged with the murder of Ewen Asher and the trial set for some six weeks hence, there were no developments.

She tried again to get Esyllt to talk. Tried to persuade her to go to Mass, but the girl’s eyes had widened with horror at the thought. ‘I can’t !’ she whispered.

Can’t because you are in a state of mortal sin? Helewise wondered, worried to her very depths. ‘Make your confession, child!’ she had urged. ‘Whatever you have done, the Lord will understand!’

But Esyllt, with an expression that had wrung the Abbess’s heart, had shaken her head and turned away.

* * *

Helewise went to see Seth Miller, in the stinking cell where the sheriff had locked him away. Sheriff Pelham, apparently surprised to see a nun in his gaol, tried to deter her — ‘In there’s not fit for a lady nor a nun, Sis- I mean, Abbess!’ he said — but she insisted.

‘We are enjoined by Our Lord, are we not, Sheriff,’ she pointed out, ‘to visit the sick and imprisoned? Did not Jesus Himself say that for as much as it is done for one of His children, it is done for Him?’

‘Yes, but — Oh, very well, Abbess, but only for a few moments.’ He leaned confidingly towards her. ‘He’s dangerous, see. Done a man in.’

But Helewise, allowed to go as far as the wooden door set with stout bars that kept Seth penned in his cell, apart from the rest of humanity, didn’t think he looked dangerous. He sat crumpled against a stone wall that ran with moisture and with unknown slimy matter, and the fetters around his ankles had raised angry red welts. The mouldering straw that covered the stone floor smelled rank with decay. And with other, more malodorous stenches; it was apparent that Seth must relieve himself where he sat.

‘Seth?’ she called.

He raised his head. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Abbess Helewise of Hawkenlye,’ she said. ‘Will you pray with me?’

‘Aye, lady.’ He struggled on to his knees, and followed her in her prayers, responding, when required, with a heartfelt fervour.

When they had finished, she asked, ‘Seth, do you wish me to send a priest to you?’

‘Priest?’

‘To hear your confession,’ she said gently.

‘Confession?’ The light dawned. ‘I didn’t kill him, Abbess, he were dead when I reached him! That’s God’s honest truth, I swear!’

‘I see.’ Was he telling the truth? He sounded earnest enough, but then a man who stood to hang for murder was bound to deny the crime, as convincingly as he could. ‘But, Seth, what of your thieving?’ she went on. ‘You, Hamm and Ewen were all involved in digging beneath the fallen oak in the forest, weren’t you? And you cut down a healthy tree, too, to help you in your treasure seeking. That’s true, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, aye,’ Seth muttered. ‘I wish to God I’d told Hamm what to do with his coins, I do that! Begging your pardon, lady,’ he added.

‘It was Hamm who found the hoard?’

‘Aye. Setting traps, he were, for game and that. He dug down under the fallen tree because he saw something glinting. It were a coin, and, soon as he started digging a bit harder, he saw that there was more, much more. He got me and Ewen involved because it were too much for one man to do alone — it were the three of us cut down the second tree, which stood right in the way, and no easy job it were. I’m his cousin — Hamm’s cousin — see, we’ve always worked together.’

‘No, Seth, you’ve always stolen together,’ she corrected him.

He looked at her, his face pitiful. ‘Aye,’ he sighed. ‘And now they’ve got me for something I never did, and I’m going to hang.’ A sob escaped him. ‘Aren’t I?’

She wished she could say otherwise, but she had to agree; it certainly looked like it. Slowly she nodded.

Seth sank to the floor again, leaning his hopeless, filthy face against the wall. ‘Then I reckon I’d better have that priest.’

* * *

When almost a month had gone by, and, once more, the moon was waxing towards the full, Helewise was woken from deep sleep.

She sat up in her narrow bed, wondering why she had awakened. All around came the sounds of women asleep: faint murmurs, regular breathing, a few snores.

All sounds to which she was well accustomed.

What, then, had disturbed her?

She got up and crept through the hangings around her cubicle. All was still, there was nobody creeping about and-

Yes. There was.

Someone was standing by the door to the dormitory, and, as Helewise watched, the slim figure descended the first two steps.

Helewise, barefoot, hurried across the floor, stopping in the doorway and holding on to the door post. The figure was now on the third step down, slim hands clutching at the guard rail, her body leaning forward, tense, as if she yearned with her whole being towards the object of her fierce attention.

Towards the forest.

And, as Helewise watched, Caliste again began her weird, unearthly humming.

It was not, Helewise thought, any the less affecting the second time; in fact, it was possibly more so. The eerie sight of bright moonlight over the sinister darkness of the trees, combined with the still-vivid memory of recent events, created in the Abbess a profound dread.

But, dread or not, it was quite a chilly night, and it would do neither her nor Caliste any good to stand out there on the steps.

Her fanciful thoughts dispersed by common sense, Helewise took a firm grip on herself and went on down the steps until she could take a gentle hold on Caliste’s arm. ‘Come, child,’ she said softly, ‘back to your bed. It’s too cold to be out here in nothing but your chemise.’

Caliste’s humming faltered, then ceased. Turning wide eyes to Helewise, she seemed to stare straight through her.

‘Are you awake, Sister Caliste?’ Helewise whispered. There was no reply. Pulling steadily at the girl’s arm, Helewise led her back into the dormitory and along the room to her bed. There, like an obedient child, the novice lay down and shut her eyes. Helewise arranged the covers over her, then, drawing the hangings across the opening, left the girl to sleep.

Helewise noticed that she had left the dormitory door open; with a mild tut of annoyance at her own carelessness, she went back to close it.

As she did so, she heard the humming again.

Now it was fainter, and, if anything, even more unsettling.

Because, although it was the same wandering tune that Caliste had hummed, in the same unearthly key, it came from the forest.

Somewhere out there in that vast darkness, someone had heard Caliste’s strange song. And they were sending back a reply.

* * *

The Abbess’s ability to concentrate on her devotions and her duties the following day was, she soon discovered, severely impaired. For one thing, she had resolved to keep a watchful eye on Sister Caliste, which in itself was disturbing since the girl had a vacant look about her; wide-eyed and anxious, she was far from being her usual serene and smiling self.

When Helewise asked her gently if she felt all right — and, more relevant, if she had slept well — the girl gave her a puzzled frown and replied, ‘I am quite well, thank you, Abbess. And, yes, I slept deeply. Why?’

‘Oh — I thought you looked a little pale,’ Helewise improvised.

Caliste gave her a sweet smile. ‘How well you care for us,’ she said softly.

Helewise couldn’t answer. Just then, she felt she was failing at least one of her little community quite badly. Leaving Caliste to carry on with her work — she was washing out soiled bandages and hanging them to dry in the strong sunshine, which, according to Sister Euphemia, was the best thing for making them wholesome and fit for re-use — Helewise went back to her room. It appeared, she reflected as she paced across the courtyard, that Caliste had no recollection of her sleepwalking.