Priscilla Royal - Covenant With Hell

“It was that child, demon from Hell, who told you this, wasn’t it?” Vincent raised a fist and shook it. “A lying, whoring-”

“The tale comes not just from her but others in the town,” Thomas said. All he knew, apart from what Gracia had witnessed, were the stories Mistress Emelyne had told his prioress, including the one about Father Vincent being the nun’s lover himself. He did not believe that but preferred to spare Prioress Ursell an additional humiliation for no purpose. If the priest believed the tale of his bribery was more widespread, he might confess, and Thomas would be content. This was not a secular matter, subject to the king’s justice. A confession would satisfy the Church, precise evidence would not be needed, and Father Vincent would be punished.

Prioress Ursell gasped. “You told me about their sins but said I must not stop the pair from meeting.” Ursell looked away. “You forbade me to punish Sister Roysia, swore you would deal with the craftsman’s wickedness but needed time to do so in a way that would not harm the priory. A simple woman, I obeyed you.” Her voice faded into a whisper. “I trusted you.”

Thomas thought he saw tears on her cheeks. Despite her faults, he caught himself pitying her for an instant.

Father Vincent was not quite defeated. “The craftsman threatened to spread rumors that I was Sister Roysia’s lover. Does not that make him the more sinful man?” His voice rasped. “The whore heard this and must have aided him in the wickedness.”

Prioress Ursell’s mouth dropped open.

The wine merchant’s eyes twinkled. He seemed pleased that the craftsman might have been cleverer than he had thought probable.

Thomas shrugged. He had chosen to keep that story to himself. If the priest wanted to wallow deeper in the pigsty, let him do so.

“It was his revenge. He told me that when last he paid…” Realizing what he had just admitted, Father Vincent shut his mouth.

Prioress Ursell was no fool. “You are guilty of taking bribes, letting this wicked affair continue, and putting my priory in danger of condemnation. You should have stopped Master Larcher and come to me with his threatened and vile accusation. I could have dealt with my sinful nun.”

“And for this petty greed you killed the craftsman and his innocent servant?” Durant shook his head in disbelief.

All this, the monk hoped, might finally push the priest into confession.

“No! I admit I took bribes to benefit the Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock. I confess to that, but I did not kill anyone. I went to Larcher’s house to force him to remain silent about the affair for the good of Ryehill’s reputation and to stop telling the stories that I had broken my sacred vows with a nun. I found the servant and the craftsman dead. I fled in fear. I-”

The prioress snorted in contempt. “How little you cared for our reputation before.”

“Sadly, my lady, the situation is far graver than that.” Master Durant stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Shall we meet in your chambers?”

Prioress Ursell looked dazed, as if she might crumple under the weight of one more horrible revelation, but she stiffened her back and nodded, turning to lead them into the priory.

As they reached the entrance, a white-faced nun appeared at the door. “My lady, come quickly!” Unable to say more, she began to weep.

Gracia pushed past the young woman and raced up to Thomas, grasping his sleeve. “To the bell tower, Brother. I fear Prioress Eleanor has been murdered.”

Brother Thomas’ fingers left bloody streaks on the stairs and wall. Silently cursing the tiny steps to the bell tower, he clawed his way up, proceeded by the street child and followed by Master Durant and Prioress Ursell.

When he finally burst through the entrance, Gracia pulled him by the hand to the low wall surrounding the bell tower.

“There!” The young girl pointed at the priory roof below them.

Thomas saw the body of his prioress lying there. Grief may have scalded his eyes with tears, but fury dried them. In an instant, he forgot all vows and swore he would personally tie the killer’s limbs to four swift horses and let them tear the man apart. Then he heard a sound, looked down at the child beside him, and saw that she was weeping too. His heart shattered, and he could no longer contemplate violence. Squeezing her hand, he bent down and whispered words of comfort.

Prioress Ursell gestured at the staircase. “I will go back to the priory and send for help. If there is any chance that she might be alive…” She looked back at the men, clearly debating the propriety of leaving them there, then shook her head and disappeared through the entrance.

Gracia looked up at Thomas. “Prioress Eleanor may be alive, Brother. The fall is not as far as that suffered by Sister Roysia.”

Durant leaned dangerously over the wall and pointed. “Look!”

Following the direction of his finger, they saw someone stumbling along the priory roof toward the houses beyond.

“It is the murderer,” Gracia said.

Suddenly, the merchant noticed the rope dangling over the edge.

Thomas did as well and reached out for it.

“No, Brother, let me give chase. This is my particular enemy,” Durant said and grabbed the rope.

Gracia screamed at him. “It will break with your weight!”

Durant blinked, then saw the cut in the rope. “I am grateful for your warning, child.” Then he, too, ran for the stairwell entry.

Thomas followed.

“Stay here, “Durant said, putting a restraining hand against the monk’s chest. “I will seek the killer and swear to bring him to justice.” His look softened. “You have vows to keep, Brother Thomas, and a child to comfort. I promise that the end of this matter will satisfy you.” With that, he eased down on the top step. “It will be faster to slide,” they heard him say with a light jest as he vanished.

Although he knew Durant was right, Thomas clenched his fists in helpless frustration. Then he turned to seek Gracia.

To his horror, she had leapt up on the wall and was balancing precariously.

He rushed to the child and put her down on the safer tower floor. “Do not endanger yourself like that!”

“Then look at the roof yourself.” Her face was pale, but she was smiling. “I think I saw our lady move.”

Kneeling at the wall, he looked down and realized that his prioress had shifted onto her side. “She lives!”

Crying out with joy, Gracia clapped her hands.

Now he saw Eleanor struggling to sit up. “Stay where you are, my lady,” Thomas shouted. Fearing she would slip off the roof if she moved too much, he waved franticly to get her attention. “Prioress Ursell has gone to seek aid. They will come soon.”

Eleanor looked up and raised a hand.

Suddenly, a ladder rose from the street and was braced against the priory walls. Two figures began the climb. One was a man, but, to Thomas’ amazement, the other was Prioress Ursell. Even in this situation, he thought, the prioress of Ryehill was determined that there should be no real or imagined impropriety.

Unable to know whether to laugh or cry, he sat back on his heels and began to do both.

Gracia put her arm around his neck and laid her head on his. “Come, Brother,” she whispered, “let us leave this place.”

Wiping his cheeks, the monk stood, touched by her comforting when he should have been the one to ease her pain. “You have something to tell me about this.” He gestured around the narrow space of the bell tower. “While we have no witnesses near, reveal what you know and then we shall depart.”

She pointed upward into the bell tower itself. “I was hiding near that bird when she brought Prioress Eleanor up here.”