CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR

 

 

The infirmary stood between the monks’ burial ground and the sheep pasture. Brother Snail had once told William that it was easier to stop sickness from spreading if patients could be kept isolated. It was built of timber and thatch, and if it had not been for the small shuttered windows set high up in the walls, it could easily have been mistaken for a barn.

William carried the basket of firewood into the modest building. Shafts of gray winter light streaked down through the stale and dusty air from the gaps around the edges of the shutters. There were four beds in the single room, plain wooden frames with straw mattresses. At the far end of the room there was a wooden altar, covered with a white linen cloth. A simple iron crucifix was nailed to the wall above it. There were brackets around the walls for rushlights. Two iron braziers were the only source of heating in the infirmary, as far as William could see.

Brother Gabriel was making up a bed for Snail from the bundle of blankets he had hurriedly grabbed from the bedding cupboard outside the monks’ dormitory. William dragged one of the braziers closer to the monk’s bed and got a fire going.

Peter and Brother Stephen lowered Snail onto the bed, rolling him onto his side. Brother Gabriel pulled the blankets up to cover him. Only his face and one hand showed.

Brother Odo, elderly and deaf, was chosen to stay with Brother Snail. He was too old to be useful around the abbey and its fields, but he still had most of his wits and could be trusted to watch over the unconscious monk.

“Fetch me if there is any change in our brother’s condition,” Prior Ardo said loudly, forming the words with exaggerated care. Brother Odo watched the prior’s lips and nodded.

The prior, Brother Stephen, and Brother Gabriel left the infirmary, their mouths moving in silent prayer, their heads bowed. They had no idea what was wrong with Brother Snail and William had no intention of telling them. If he crossed Shadlok, then the fay would kill the monk for sure.

Brother Odo took no notice of William, but went to pray at the altar. His knees were stiff and he could no longer kneel, so he sat on a stool, eyes fixed on the cross on the wall, his hands loosely clasped together.

William stood beside Snail’s bed for a few minutes, staring down at the monk’s pale face. He felt as if his heart were breaking into small pieces. What was the point of caring for people if all they did was leave you? His brother Hugh had left home without a backward glance, and the rest of his family had gone to another place without him. And now Brother Snail was hidden away somewhere inside the small crippled body, out of reach.

He heard a soft rustling in the straw by his feet, and glanced down to see the hob crawl out from under the bed.

“Is the snail brother dying?” the hob asked. His small face was pinched with anxiety.

“Shadlok has put him under a spell of some kind,” William said softly.

The hob climbed onto the bed and sat beside Brother Snail. He lifted one of the monk’s eyelids. “That is very bad. Why did he do it?”

“To make sure I’ll help him dig up the angel’s grave tomorrow. If I don’t, he will let Brother Snail die.”

Brother Walter’s eyes widened in surprise. “You told him where it is?”

“Brother Snail did, and this was the thanks he got,” William said bitterly.

The hob settled himself against Brother Snail’s back. His tail curled across the monk’s neck, the tufted end tucked beneath Snail’s cheek. “I will stay with him.”

William nodded. “Good. Look after him. I will bring you some food later. Take care around Brother Odo, he’s old and deaf but his eyes and wits are sharp enough.”

“He will not see me, he does not have the Sight,” the hob said.

William looked at him suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

“He almost sat on me in the place where the brother men go to sing to their god. The place with the stone people.”

“You were in the church?” William asked, not pleased to hear this. “What were you doing there?”

The hob lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Just looking at the stone plants and birds and people.”

“And he nearly sat on you?”

The hob nodded. “The other brother men stand up to sing, or they kneel down. That one sits down.” He paused for a moment and frowned over at Brother Odo’s back. “Except I was already sitting on the seat. I only just moved in time. But he did not see me.”

“I told you not to wander around the abbey,” William said, exasperated by the hob’s indifference to the danger he was putting himself in. “I have work to do in the kitchen, but we’ll talk about this later.”

The hob sniffed and pulled the edge of the blanket around his shoulders. William added another couple of logs to the brazier and left the infirmary.

The last gray glow of daylight faded in the western sky. The fields and woods around the abbey were peaceful and still in the freezing dusk, apart from the distant cawing of crows settling to roost for the night. William shivered as he hurried through the graveyard, heading for the passageway to the cloister. The bell for vespers rang out, clear and sharp, a little later than usual, though that was hardly surprising after the events of the day.

At least Brother Snail was safe enough for the moment, William thought, and the hob would watch over him. For now, that was all that mattered.