16

Prioress Eleanor and Brother Thomas strolled through the walled garden outside the queen’s chapel, a place designed for Queen Eleanor of Provence by her adoring husband, King Henry III.

Spring is a deceiving time, the prioress thought. The season mocks with the promise of warmth but then betrays hopes with cruel storms. Her mood was grim, and nothing she did could brighten it.

On their way here, the prioress had glimpsed the grove of one hundred pear trees near Everswell, the idyllic retreat known best for the bittersweet love of King Henry II and the Fair Rosamund. The limbs seemed lifeless now and were starkly black against the gray sky, although Eleanor thought that buds must be forming. A few apple trees, imported from France to appeal to the current Castilian queen’s love of fruit, would not awaken with new life until later.

To their left, the prioress saw the fish pond planned by the father of the current king, and, beside it, the herbage enjoyed by his mother. Although some herbs had been imported from Castile and added to the garden, the plot retained the look enjoyed by the elder king and his queen. Eleanor of Castile and her mother-in-law might barely tolerate each other, but the current queen was wise enough to know that more conflicts are won by diplomacy than battle. She would make only the smallest of changes while the queen dowager lived.

Today the air felt soft. Yesterday it was sharp and bruised the skin with an icy bite. Much like life and death, the prioress concluded. She shook her head and blamed her stubbornly troubled mood on the excess of a melancholic humor.

But the earth was beginning the labor of birth that brought forth new life. “Much like our queen has done,” she murmured, knowing she should look on that as a wondrous thing. When they returned, she would seek advice from Sister Anne on banishing this dark brooding.

Brother Thomas said something, and she realized she had not been listening.

“Forgive me, Brother, I have been lost to petty musing.”

“You have been given too much to bear, my lady. Your father’s health, your nephew’s confession to murder, as well as his defiance of his father with his longing to take vows. Now you have heard the reasons he had for his false declaration of guilt, yet he cannot be released until the murderer is caught. I do not think any musing you might fall into would be trivial.”

She smiled at him. When the demon that infected her with lust for this monk retreated, she enjoyed the calm Brother Thomas often brought her soul. His gentle company soothed her, and he owned a unique wisdom that opened her eyes to insights she otherwise lacked. God has looked into his heart and found grace, she thought, and silently thanked Him for the gift of this man.

“I am convinced that your brother loves his son,” he said.

“As am I, but I am equally confident that he will rage over Richard’s desire to become a priest.”

“Is Sir Hugh so angry with God?”

“No, but he holds priests in contempt. Father Eliduc exemplifies why he does so.”

“I would agree,” Thomas growled.

Eleanor never told her monk that she had learned of his dual loyalties years ago, but, after Father Eliduc told her that he was releasing Brother Thomas from his obligations to ferret out Church enemies, she discovered her monk loathed the priest as much as she. Of course, she might have found out why he had fallen under Eliduc’s domination and the reason he felt obliged to continue the allegiance for so long, but she chose not to seek those answers. Whatever the explanation, her monk’s sins had been purged years ago, and Brother Thomas had proven his devotion to God as well as loyalty to her and her family many times over.

She stopped and studied the earth where something of a vibrant green was struggling to emerge. “My brother was a gentle youth once, Brother, full of dreams born of the legends of King Arthur and tales of the Lionheart. When he returned from Outremer, he did so with a heart so mutilated that it has lost joy. He has yet to speak of the cause that changed his faith into this hollow thing.”

“King Edward returned, robed in zealous Christian faith.”

She did not respond. Instead, she bent to touch the vulnerable shoot, then drew back as if fearing to damage it. “Our father suffered a similar falling out with God when our mother died. My brother will find the path again in time, but his contempt for priests who serve worldly interests rather than God may last longer. Hugh believes honest men do not try to disguise their true loyalties.”

Thomas looked away.

Eleanor noted the gesture and quickly added, “He understands those who are struggling to find their true allegiance but not men, like Father Eliduc, who have found their vocation but choose to disguise it behind piety.”

“Your brother owns no love of monks either.” Thomas looked at his prioress with a questioning look, but saw that her expression was kind. If she knew his past with the priest, he decided, she had forgiven him.

“But you saved his life and thus became the exception. As for me, I am his sister. He is forced to tolerate me.” She smiled.

“His son?”

“Let us worry first about asking my brother to help save his life. Of his love for the lad, I have no doubt. He would take Richard’s place on the scaffold if he could.”

“But not let him choose God’s service over knighthood as his vocation.” Thomas cleared his throat and told her what Father Eliduc had in mind for her nephew.

She fell silent as she thought about this news. “I see merit in the plan, both for the family and Richard, but my brother may not. If Father Eliduc did place my nephew in this excellent position with the new Archbishop of Canterbury, my brother would be in his debt. When our father dies, Hugh will become the head of our family. His debt to the priest becomes one we all own.”

“I may agree with your brother, my lady.” Thomas had not realized that this debt was the prize and was angry with himself for not grasping the implications.

“As do I, in part, but I am not without hope that we may pay what is owed without dishonoring our name. My brother is not a fool, nor am I.”

“Father Eliduc knows you are a worthy opponent, my lady. He would not rashly go into battle against you. As for your brother, he may not know him as well, but he is aware of his reputation as a man of war.”

They walked on in silence for a while, and then stopped to watch a flock of birds fly overhead.

“First, I must speak with my brother, discover if he was in the corridor outside Hawis’ chambers, and if he had lain with her,” Eleanor said. “Whether or not any of this is true, I shall tell him that his son confessed to save him from suspicion or rebuke from the queen. Richard did not specifically prohibit that revelation.”

“If Sir Hugh was there, will he admit to it?”

“My brother sins openly with married women. Although he never brags about his many conquests, he would admit his adultery with Mistress Hawis to Sir Walter himself, if it meant Richard would be freed of all suspicion.”

“Then why has he not said he visited the dead woman?”

“I doubt it was he.”

“Indeed, my lady, so do I.”

“Nonetheless, I must ask him, while keeping silent about Richard’s secret desire for another vocation. Sadly, my brother feels no guilt about lying with these women. He will tell me without a qualm, but I think we will find that the man my nephew saw was not his father.”

“If he was, he may have seen something important even if he doesn’t realize it. Or else we must seek the man who was in the corridor.”

“I shall speak to Hugh in private after he has spent some time by our father’s side.”

“What do you wish me to do, my lady?”

“Go to my father as well, Brother. Your prayers and consolation give him strength to face death. He seems more at peace after you heard his confession. I know from past remarks that he respects you as a man of God.”

“I am not worthy of that honor,” Thomas replied, “but he is an admirable man who should travel with a purified soul to God. I shall do all I can to help him accomplish that.”

Eleanor thanked him, and the two walked back through the garden to the manor entrance.

At the door, she turned to her monk. “Later, we shall see what all must be done to bring the perpetrator of this sad crime against Mistress Hawis to face the king’s law.” She stiffened and stared down the long hall that led to the room where her father was dying. “No matter what earthly sorrows infect my heart, Brother, my duty to God remains supreme. Whatever is needed to render His justice, I am bound to do it.”