Priscilla Royal - Chambers of Death

“Then I must ask this question, my lady. Is it sinful for us to marry? We hoped to do so after a proper mourning for Mistress Luce.”

Perhaps she should confirm Maud’s fears that some in the Church might argue against that comfort, Eleanor thought, falling silent as she watched servants help Mariota into a cart and arrange blankets to keep the girl warm. Yet de Lacy was a powerful man, and Stevyn had found favor with his faithful, competent stewardship. Were there a problem with the union, a priest to marry them would be easy enough to locate. After all, he might conclude they had vowed themselves to each other in a marital bond many years ago and thus any subsequent marriage by each was defective. The prioress was well aware that the donation of a valuable chalice would help cast such logic in a strong light.

“I would think it wrong if you did not,” she said at last. “Indeed,” she continued with a gentle smile, “I will pray that you live your remaining years together in God’s grace.”

With that, the women embraced one last time.

***

“Brother!”

Thomas spun around and saw Huet hastening toward him. His eyes stung, and he quickly rubbed at them. Why was he not stronger about hiding his failings? A traitorous moisture remained on his cheeks.

As the younger son stopped in front of the monk, the two men looked at each other in awkward silence.

“I shall miss you,” Huet said at last, his voice hoarse.

“You only regret the departure of my admiration when you sing and tell fine tales, but others, who have a finer ear for your talents, will replace me soon enough.” Thomas smiled but he knew his jest had fallen flat.

“Now that my brother is off for hanging, I must trade my lute for accounting rolls and a horse for a minstrel’s ill-shod feet.” Huet covered his eyes and groaned. “That remark was foul with cruelty, and I shall do penance for it. Ranulf is my brother, and, despite our differences and his crimes, I grieve over his fate.”

“I did not doubt it.” Thomas hesitated, then asked: “No one will learn the truth of your birth?”

“There is little reason to fear the revelation. My father speaks of giving his own lands to some monastery in exchange for prayers after he and my mother die. As for my future, the Earl of Lincoln had promised me a place and now that shall most likely be here as his steward. He has that right, whatever my birth.”

Thomas nodded. “Will you return to Cambridge?”

“More likely to study outside the university walls where I shall better learn how to manage lands.” His look suggested he was less than pleased.

“Will that be so hard?” Thomas asked gently.

“Ah, Brother, how I wish you could remain and give me counsel, for I am a man who dwells in some middle land, suited neither to a priory nor to the world.”

“Your priest…”

“…sees men as warriors, religious, or servants to great lords. It was he who advised I give my body to God when my woman and our babe died. It was a choice I discovered fit me ill.”

“Yet I have heard you followed his guidance gladly enough.”

Huet shook his head, began to answer, but then hesitated as if having second thoughts. “I cannot blame our priest for my decision. It was I who chose the path-for the wrong reasons.”

“Grief over the death of beloved ones leads many men to seek comfort in His service. Yet, whether you take final vows or remain in the world, God will provide balm for your wounded heart if you let Him.”

Huet looked away.

Thomas grasped the man’s shoulder. “As you see, I provide sorry advice, but I have faith that you shall find another who can give far better.”

Huet tried to hide his tears but failed. “I shall miss you, Brother. That is all I can say.”

With trembling hands, the monk drew him into a rough embrace, then pushed him back and walked away.

***

With prayers for a safe journey from those gathered to say farewell, the party of horsemen started down the road, the prioress on her donkey riding next to the cart that carried the young Mariota.

Eleanor looked down at her charge, now warmly bundled against the brisk wind. In the past, she would have urged this reluctant postulant to pray for the strength and faith to continue in the vocation, even though her heart longed to stay in the world. Many times this was the wisest advice, for acceptance of the inevitable made a woman’s life easier. Yet the experience of Maud and Stevyn had taught her something about the tenacity of mortal love, a persistence that was not always without merit.

Although the pair had most certainly sinned, they had shown a stubborn fidelity to each other. Despite their transgressions, Eleanor believed their marriage would be a strong one. Each would provide the other with the fortitude to continue through whatever life demanded of them, until Death arrived to steal their souls.

In many ways, they reminded her of David and Bathsheba, although Master Stevyn had not sent Maud’s husband off to die. For cert, God had demanded repentance from that famous couple, but afterwards He had blessed their union with a son named Solomon. On the other hand, Ranulf and Constance might have bent their knees at the altar with notable fervor, but their faith had grown putrid with brittle sanctimony. Matters were often not as simple as some would wish, and perhaps that was one more lesson God wished her to learn.

Mariota’s swallowed sob brought the prioress back to the moment. “What troubles you, my child?” she asked, noting the girl’s eyes were full of tears.

“I have caused much grief to the innocent, my lady.”

“Although I concur that you would have been better advised to speak earlier of your illness, I cannot say that God did not have a hand in directing us to the manor. He knows men’s hearts and may well have sent us there to render His justice where men would fail.”

“It was I who suggested that the embrace of Mistress Maud and Master Huet was sinful. I feel deep regret for my error.”

“You told me what you saw, and I interpreted the information with my own blindness. The fault lies with me.” She tilted her head in surprise. “How did you learn it was otherwise?”

“Master Huet suspected I had seen them and did not want me to be troubled, fearing for my health. Before we left, he explained that Mistress Maud had taken on the role of a mother to him, after his own had died. She had been comforting him as she would any son when he confessed his soul’s torments.”

“He was thoughtful to care about your weakened state,” Eleanor replied. “She taught him well, as his own mother would wish, and I know she will continue to guide him on the right path.”

The two traveled on in silence for some moments before the prioress turned back to Mariota. “May I say, however, that I suspect your thoughts continue to drift to your own situation?”

“My selfishness has been revealed. I fear you are correct.”

Eleanor reached out to stroke her donkey’s neck and was answered with a contented bray, not a pleasing sound to most but a delight to the ears of his particular rider. “We shall pass through the town where your family lives, and I had hoped to rest there briefly. They would be most happy to see you, and your diminished strength does require a less strenuous journey. We would be well-advised to take an extra day on the return to Tyndal Priory.”

“As much as I would love to see my mother and brother, I fear they will be deeply disappointed over my ongoing doubts…”

“…doubts you might be wise not to express during this visit. I had hoped to talk with your brother, Mariota. Although I cannot promise anything, I want to suggest to him that honoring your father’s wishes might be fulfilled by other means. Many believe that enforced prayer brings steel to the soul and merit to those who demand it, but the Devil finds fertile fields for his wickedness in unwilling hearts. On the other hand, God rejoices when mortals feed and clothe the needy. If you and the man you would marry prove diligent and honorable, you may find that prosperity follows and generosity to the poor and other noble causes may serve God’s commandments far better.”