Филиппа Карр: The Miracle at St. Bruno's

"A noble lady with old Mother Salter in her house!”

"Oh, come, old Mother Salter has not such a poor opinion of herself.”

"So you give orders here.”

"I care for the sick on my husband's Abbey lands.”

She looked at me slyly. "You would not take me to my grandson.”

"I would take you to my mother.”

"Hee-hee." She had what I had always thought of as a witch's cackle. "He would not be pleased to see me. Honey used to come to me. She confided in me. She told me of her love for you and how she feared you loved your own child more. 'Twas natural.

I blamed you not for that. You have done your work well and I don't forget it. But let those who heed me not take care.”

My heart was filled with pity for this poor old woman, sick and near to death, still clinging to the powers which she had possessed or led people to believe she possessed.

I said I would prepare my mother to receive her and I went to her immediately. She agreed to take in Mother Salter once she had grown accustomed to the incongruous idea; she commanded her servants to prepare a room, put fresh rushes on the floor, and make up a pallet as a bed. Then she and I went together and we set Mother Salter on a mule and brought her to Caseman Court.

It was an unconventional thing to have done. Bruno was aghast.

"To take that old woman to your mother's house! You must be mad. Are you going to gather up all the poor and set them up in Caseman Court?”

"She is no ordinary woman.”

"No, she has an evil reputation. She traffics with the devil. She could be burned at the stake for her activities.”

"Many a good man and woman has met that fate. Surely you understand why I must give this woman especial care.”

"Because of her relationship to the bastard you adopted.”

Then because I could not bear him to refer slightingly to Honey I cried out: "Yes, because she is Honey's great-grandmother... and yours.”

I saw the hatred in his face. He knew that I had never believed in the miracle and this was at the very root of the rift between us. Before I had implied my disbelief; now I said it outright.

"You have worked against me always," he said savagely.

"I would willingly work with you and for you. And why should facing the truth interfere with that?”

"Because it is false...false... and you alone whose duty it was to stand beside me have done everything you can to plant these false beliefs.”

"I am guilty of heresy then," I said.

He turned and left me.

Strangely enough I had ceased to care that all love was lost between us.

I could not have done a better thing for my mother than take Mother Salter to her.

When I next visited her I found the sick room fresh and clean. On a table beside the witch's pallet were the potions and unguents which my mother had prepared. She was excited and important and fussing over the old woman as though she were a child, which seemed to amuse Mother Salter.

Of course the old woman was dying; she knew it and she was amused to be spending her last days in a grand house.

My mother told me that she had imparted to her much knowledge of plants both benign and malignant. She would not allow my mother to write them down perhaps because she who could not write thought there was something evil in the signs that were made on paper. My mother had a good memory for the things in which she was interested and she became very knowledgeable during that time, which I was sure was ample payment for all that she had done for Mother Salter. But here was more than that. Whether the old woman had powers to bless or curse I cannot say, but from that time my mother really grew away from her grief and while Mother Salter was in her house I heard her sing snatches of songs.

Two or three days before she died I went to see her and was alone with her. I asked her to tell me the truth about Bruno's birth.

"You know," I said, "that he believes he has special powers. He does not accept the story that Keziah and the monk told.”

"No, he does not believe it. He has special powers. That is clear, is it not? Look what he has done. He has built a world about himself. Could an ordinary man do that?”

"Then it was lies Keziah told?”

She gave that disturbing witch's chuckle. "In us all there are special powers. We must find them, must we not? I was born of a woodcutter. True I was the seventh child and my mother said I was the seventh of a seventh. I told myself that there is something different about me... and there was. I studied the plants. There was not a flower nor a leaf nor a bud I did not know. And I tried them out and went to an old woman who was a witch and she taught me much. So I became a wise woman. We could all become wise men or women.”

"And Bruno?”

"He is my Keziah's son.”

"And it is true that he was put into the crib by the monk?”

"It is true. And it was my plan. Keziah was with child. What would happen to the child? I said. He or she would be a servant, not able to read or write. I always set great store by writing. There's a power in it... and what is written can be read. To read and to write-for all my wisdom I could not do that. Nor could Keziah.

But my great-grandchildren did. And that was what I wanted for them. The monk should not be blamed. Nor Keziah. She did what was natural to her and he dared not disobey me. So I made the plan; they carried it out. My great-grandson was laid in the Christmas crib-and none would have been the wiser if Weaver hadn't come. My great-grandson would have been the Abbot and a wise man and a miracle worker because these powers are in us all and we must first know that we possess them before we do.”

"You have confirmed what I have always believed. Bruno hates me for knowing.”

"His pride will destroy him. There is greatness in him but there is weakness too and if the weakness is greater than the strength then he is doomed.”

"Should I pretend to believe him? Am I wrong in letting him know the truth?”

"Nay," she said. "Be true to thyself, girl.”

"Should I try to make him accept the truth?”

"If he could do that he might be saved. For his pride is great. I know him well though I have not set eyes on him since he was naked new-born. But Honey talked of him. She told me all... of you both. Now I will tell you this. The monk before his part in this were known, was heavy with his sin. He said that the only way he could hope for salvation after his sin was to write a full confession.

He could write well. He came here now and then. It broke the laws of the Abbey but they were not my laws and I had my grandson to think of. I must see this monk who was his father; I commanded him to come to me and he did, and he showed me the wounds he had inflicted on his body in his torment. He showed me the hair shirt he wore.

He felt his sin deeply. And he wrote the story of his sin and hid it away that in time to come it should be known.”

"Where is this confession?”

"It's hidden in his cell in the dorter. Find it. Keep it. And show it to Bruno. It will be proof, and then you will tell him that he must be true to himself. He is clever. He has great powers. He can be greater without this lie than he ever was with it. If you can teach him this you will help to destroy that pride which in time will destroy him.”

"I will look for this confession," I said, "and if I find it I will show it to Bruno and I will tell him what you have said.”

She nodded.

"I wish him well," she said. "He is my flesh and blood. Tell him I said so. Tell him he can be great but he cannot rise through weakness.”

Our conversation was broken up by my mother who came bustling in and declared that I was tiring out her invalid.

A few days later Mother Salter was dead. My mother planted flowers on her grave and tended them regularly.