Michael JECKS - Belladonna at Belstone

It wasn’t unknown for a draw-latch to poison a dog in order to remove a household’s most ferocious guard, but who could have got to Princess? Sadly, Simon realised that almost anyone could have. The little devil wandered between both cloisters, so Simon couldn’t even reduce the potential suspects to either male or female.

But it corroborated Lady Elizabeth’s story. And since the terrier only barked at men, it was a safe bet that only a man would have poisoned it.

Elias went to the church for Vespers but remained standing in his stall when the others left the choir. When all was still within he stepped forward to kneel before the altar.

He had no wish to be the agent of Lady Elizabeth’s destruction, but he couldn’t see how to escape. Bertrand had made the choice very clear: Elias could either refuse to implicate the prioress, in which case he would be accused of seducing a nun and attempting to persuade her to commit apostasy, or he could agree, in which case his own guilt and that of the nun herself need not come to light.

Elias covered his face with his hands. Was it so wrong to wish to see his own child? To want to honour his love as a husband should? Yet Constance had already rejected him, apparently. Lady Elizabeth had told him so.

Struck with a sudden desperation, he threw himself before the altar, arms outspread, praying to see Constance one last time.

At that moment he heard a sound. Quickly he pushed himself to his knees again, and peered about him. He saw the door to the nuns’ side of the church open and Luke slip through. Luke was with a nun, and from her slurred speech Elias guessed it must be Denise: all the canons knew her weakness for wine. Something made Elias slip backwards so that he was concealed behind a tall pillar, and there he listened as Luke negotiated.

“Look, three quarts of my best Guyenne red is almost all I have left. I’ll not be getting any more from my merchant for at least five weeks. I can’t offer you more.”

“I want them all,” she mumbled obdurately.

“Wouldn’t two be enough?”

“Three. You want to go and exercise your filly, you’ll have to pay.”

“All right, then, three.”

“And I want to see them when I let you back in,” she said greedily.

Luke gave an exasperated exclamation. “When you let me in? You think the prioress wouldn’t notice me coming into Compline with six pints of wine about me? Or perhaps you think you could hide them within your habit and drink during the service! Be sensible, woman – I shall bring them to you tomorrow once you have kept up your side of the bargain, and that is to let me in. After Compline, make a show of relocking this door, but in reality leave it open for me. Will you remember?”

Sulkily the woman repeated his instruction and when Luke nodded, satisfied, she pulled a sneering grimace and defiantly bit her thumb behind his back, making the nail crack against her upper teeth. Moving back a pace, she swung the door shut and soon after Elias heard the lock snap shut. Slowly he turned back to the altar, and wonderingly but fervently, offered his gratitude.

As night fell, Simon sat in the infirmary watching over his friend. Hugh had gone to fetch wine soon after Vespers, and since then Simon had heard the bell for Compline. The nuns had attended this last service of the day, and now all was silent in the place.

It was a relief, for Simon felt the need of time to review all he had heard. Especially since Hugh had grimly told him of Agnes and Luke.

Every now and again he glanced up as Cecily feverishly moaned and whimpered, but Constance had managed to drop a little of her magical syrup between the lay sister’s lips, so at least she slept. Joan had complained that she couldn’t sleep, and rather than use more of Constance’s precious dwale, she had returned to her old bed in the dorter.

Constance herself was asleep on a stool at Cecily’s side, her head resting on Cecily’s mattress and setting her wimple awry.

She looked like an angel in the glow of the candles, Simon thought. The light gave her features a pink tint, highlighting the high cheekbones, and making her lips appear more full and rose-coloured. With the movement of her headpiece, a tress of her hair had come adrift and now it moved with her breath, near her cheek. Although she was clearly a mature woman, her face seemed so innocent and youthful that Simon felt a paternal fondness for her, just as he did when he glanced over at the truckle-bed at home and saw his own daughter asleep. There was something incredibly attractive in a sleeping girl, he thought.

The door opened quietly behind him, and he heard Constance snort slightly, then wrinkle her nose before settling once more.

“Hugh?” he asked.

“Bailiff, I wish to speak to you alone.”

“Lady Elizabeth,” he said, leaping to his feet. “My apologies, I had no idea it was you.”

She held up her hand. “No apology is necessary. Your man is outside for a while. I would like to speak to you alone.”

“But of course, my Lady. Please, take my chair.”

She glanced at Baldwin, remaining standing. “How is he?”

“He moans often, and wanders a lot in his dreams, but I think – I hope – he will recover.”

“That is good.”

“The lay sister is not so well,” Simon said softly.

“I had heard,“ she said, her attention moving to Cecily and the sleeping nun at her side. ”She is so young, too,“ she added almost as an afterthought.

Simon didn’t know what to say. In his experience most people did die while young. It was rare for a child to grow to adulthood, still rarer for one to become old like the prioress. “She will not live with that arm,” he said.

“How can she live without it?”

Simon held his tongue. The prioress shook her head with resignation. “You are right,” she said at last. “But I hate having to ask a man to exercise his skills when the Pope has commanded him not to.”

“Your surgeon?”

“Godfrey, yes.” While she spoke, she woke Constance, and led her to her bed. Returning, she said, “He’s tried to stick to dressing wounds, but every now and again something like this happens.” She sighed heavily. “I shall ask him to come and look at the girl as soon as it is light. But that is not why I am here. Sir Bailiff, you and your man are welcome to stay here for the night so that you can protect your friend, but I have to ask that you both remain within this room.“

Simon bridled. “There’s no need to suppose that Hugh or I would attempt to…”

“Oh, Bailiff, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions!” she said, laughing silently, but with evident delight. “I wouldn’t suggest any such thing, but you can waken my nuns easily without trying by waking Princess. If she should hear you, she would bark. As you have seen, she doesn’t like men.“

“That was one thing I was going to speak to you about,” Simon said. “If someone in the canons’ cloister gave a tidbit to Princess, would she eat it?”

“Oh, I expect so. She can be quite horribly greedy,” she said, but then caught sight of his expression. “You mean – you think someone deliberately poisoned my little Princess?”

“It’s possible. There seems to be enough dwale floating about this convent to sink all of you into a stupor.”

Unconsciously Lady Elizabeth gripped her prayer beads. “Good God!”

Hugh had gone to sit out in the cloister, but even though he wrapped himself up in a rug he had removed from a chest in the frater, it was bitter cold. Although he wriggled and squirmed, although he resolutely shut his eyes and tried to imagine a roaring fire before him, the vision alone couldn’t warm him. It was a relief when the door to the dorter opened. Framed in the doorway he saw the prioress, who stood peering about her shortsightedly. Hugh hastily clambered to his feet.