Priscilla Royal - Covenant With Hell

“Perhaps they did not wish to show their grief to a stranger.”

He shook his head. “You heard what Prioress Ursell said about the tragedy. Sister Roysia’s death was a possible cause for scandal, an annoyance. I have seen men banish tears of grief and grow pale with the effort. Prioress Ursell and Father Vincent had no need to hide what they did not feel.”

Eleanor frowned as she considered his words. “They have reason to fear scandal. All religious houses do, and the prioress argued the concern well. Her duty lies in providing for her nuns, and I believe she cares deeply about that. ”

Thomas concurred with her conclusion, then continued. “I confess that I did not tell them all I knew,” he whispered.

She looked at him with surprise. “Why not? Prioress Ursell said that she did not welcome conjecture, but that would not prevent you from giving them all the facts.”

“From the start, they treated me like an unwelcome guest and ignored the simplest charity of offering ale to ease the early morning chill. Soon after I began relaying my news, the prioress silenced me, called to her priest, and they spoke together in low voices as if I were not in their company.”

“They did lack civility.”

“Although Father Vincent failed to provide a guard for the body, when he went to alert the priory, I remained by the nun’s corpse so that wild dogs would not despoil it. No one thanked me. Before you arrived, Prioress Ursell ordered me to say nothing about this matter, especially after my return to Tyndal. She felt obliged to remind me ‘because all monks are like children and guilty of telling tales.’ Forgive me, my lady, but I was angered.”

“With cause.” She frowned. “They greeted me with disrespect as well. Although pride is a sin, the expectation of courtesy is not. I do not understand why it should be so, Brother, but they seem to find our presence here unwelcome.”

“When my temper cooled, I might have excused their rudeness to a simple monk, but I could not tolerate their insult to you, a prioress worthy of the highest honor. That was unconscionable.” He bowed.

Her face grew pink in the delicate light. “Their treatment of us both was unwarranted, yet to withhold information that was pertinent…”

“My failure to tell all was spiteful. That I admit, but withholding a little would only have delayed the discovery of evidence they should have found. From their manner toward me, I concluded they did not want to hear what I had to say. Father Vincent asked only one question. He wanted to know if I had seen or heard anyone in the vicinity of the tower. When I suggested they examine the bell tower, lest there be more to this death than was immediately apparent, Father Vincent mocked me.” His face flushed with anger. “He seems to delight in doing so, and I find that intolerable.”

“Set aside your anger, Brother, and tell me the entire story, including all you omitted.”

“I respected the dead nun’s corpse but did seek the cause of her death. Her neck was broken and her head cracked open, both of which were consistent with the fall from the tower. But I doubted she was alone in the tower and was troubled that I did not hear another voice crying for help, although I had arrived shortly after she fell.”

“Prioress Ursell said the nun in charge of ringing the bell had failed to do so on the previous night, and I understood that Sister Roysia was there to make sure the error was not repeated. Perhaps the bell-ringer had not yet arrived when Sister Roysia fell.”

“If she feared the nun might sleep through the hour again, why did she not bring the bell-ringer with her?”

Eleanor agreed.

“I have not yet told you the one significant detail I did not tell them. It argues against the conclusion that Sister Roysia was the only one in the tower.”

Eleanor raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Sister Roysia had something clutched in her hand, a piece of torn cloth. The weave was of good quality and the color dark. This is why I doubted she had been alone before she fell. That cloth must have come from a garment.”

Frowning, Eleanor thought for a moment. “Prioress Ursell said she had seen the body and could only conclude that the death had been a tragic accident. Yet, as you said, the piece of cloth suggests other possible deductions. It was a detail she, or the nun who examined the body, ought to have noticed as well.”

“Yet they said nothing about it. I am bothered by that.”

“Even if the death was an accident, the torn cloth raises questions about why she fell. Assuming she and the bell-ringer were together, quarreled, or struggled, Sister Roysia might have lost her balance and fallen.” Suddenly she froze and looked around as if she had heard something.

“Were that the case, and there was no wicked intent, the other person would have cried out in horror.” Instinctively, he lowered his voice.

“I agree. And, if the nun was deliberately pushed, this is not a simple tragedy.” The prioress paused. “I wonder if they questioned the bell-ringer.”

“There was little time to have done so and examine the corpse before I arrived.” He shrugged. “I did not ask. They would not have welcomed the question.”

“I just remembered something else, Brother. The bells for the next Office rang while we were all in the prioress’ chambers. If Sister Roysia was in the tower because she was afraid the nun would oversleep, she was there far too early for such a purpose. As I recall, the prior hour of prayer had occurred some time before.”

“The earlier bell did ring long before I heard her cry out. The nun had no reason to remain there between the two Offices.” Thomas looked up and watched a steady drip of water from the ceiling that was creating a growing puddle on the floor. The roof needed patching, he thought, a repair that never would have been left untended at Tyndal Priory. “Either they are lying or choosing to ignore the facts.”

“I shall be honest, Brother. I fear they lie. Their observed lack of interest in the truth smells foul. Prioress Ursell was so fearful that we would discuss this between ourselves that I wondered why we should not.” She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “Her words were like the serpent in Eden offering the apple. I was tempted to disobey her, and here we stand, doing what they forbade us.” Once again, she glanced into the shadows. “The real tragedy may not be the poor nun’s death but what is being hidden behind it.”

“Had it not been for the torn cloth she held, I might have concluded that Sister Roysia was alone, slipped, and fell to her death as they wish us to believe. The floor of the bell tower is probably as damp as the stones on which we knelt. But unless this is murder, the person with her would have cried out and run for help.”

Eleanor gestured for him to stay where he was as she walked a short distance away, looked around, and returned. “I thought I saw someone in the shadows.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “Are you certain that the piece of cloth was not lost when the corpse was moved?”

“I tucked it back into the nun’s hand. When they wrapped the body and took it back to the priory, I did not see the cloth fall to the ground. I am certain they must have found it.”

“They did not ask you about it?”

“No, and they do not know I found it.”

“The more flawed part of my nature rejoices that you remained silent in the face of their discourtesy to you.”

Thomas grinned.

“This death is their responsibility. If Sister Roysia died accidentally, there is no scandal, only grief. If she was killed, Prioress Ursell must investigate and determine what should be done to protect Ryehill as well as punish the murderer. But why distrust us so much? Had I been faced with a similar death at Tyndal, which was discovered by a religious, I would have been grateful for any information received, even if I begged for silence so I might resolve it myself. I do not understand why she and her priest asked no questions and behaved so strangely.”