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Authors: Alys Clare
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my lapse. Dear Lord, go with them, and protect them as they sleep and dream.
She waited alone for Saul, who arrived very soon afterwards, two other sturdy lay brothers with him. One of them, she noticed with relief, had had the good sense to arm himself with a stout stick.
She saw them on their way, the man who had sounded the alarm walking in their midst. Then, turning to go and join Sister Euphemia in the infirmary, she noticed the lone and forlorn figure of Berthe, coming towards her from the dormitory.
‘Berthe.’ Helewise put out her hands to greet the girl.
But Berthe shook her head. ‘Oh, Abbess, don’t be kind to me, not when we’re bringing you such troubles!’
‘None of which are your fault, Berthe,’ Helewise began. ‘And, in any case—’
But Berthe was rapidly losing what little control she had left. Flinging herself into Helewise’s arms, she sobbed, ‘Abbess, oh, dear, Abbess, Meriel’s gone missing!’
PART TWO
Travellers
Chapter Six
The dead man had been a visitor at the Holy Water shrine in the Vale. Brother Saul and Brother Firmin had both talked briefly to him, and they had a vague impression that the man had spoken with a strange accent.
That, and the information that he had been well equipped for travelling and unaccompanied, was all that the brothers could add to what was evident from the man’s dead body. Which was that he had been around thirty, bearded, with dark hair and a swarthy complexion, sturdily built, of middle height, and well nourished.
One or two of the other pilgrims – pop-eyed with amazement to have the extraordinary thrill of a murder in a place where they had gone for prayer and healing – said that the dead man, who had but recently arrived, had attended some of the services conducted by the brothers, but had hidden himself away at the back, as if he wanted to be unobtrusive.
Nobody knew his name.
But, whoever he was, somebody had badly wanted him dead. He had been attacked from behind, and struck down with a series of blows to the back of the head. There was evidence of severe damage to the skull which, in one place, had collapsed into a distinct indentation. It appeared that further blows had been struck after the man had been felled, since there were deep cuts across his brows.
The body, the surrounding area and the clothing of anybody who had touched the corpse were all heavily stained from the copious amounts of blood that had spattered out like a fountain.
Helewise asked Brother Saul to go through the dead man’s belongings. Saul reported that the man’s small leather satchel was well made but worn, as if from long use, and that the pilgrim’s broad-brimmed hat was decorated with the shell of Santiago di Compostela, and the souvenir badge from the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham. His water bottle, made from a gourd, looked quite new.
He had been dressed in a simple tunic and cloak which, like the rest of his garments, were of cheap, undyed fabric. His boots, however, were sturdy and made of good leather.
From the bloodstains on its thick end and from the location where it had been discovered – beside the dead body – it appeared that the man’s heavy, iron-tipped walking staff had been employed as the murder weapon.
Helewise sat with Brother Saul and Brother Firmin in the rough shelter where the pilgrims took their meals. Brother Firmin, who headed the fully professed monks in the little community, was clearly distraught and not a great deal of help; Helewise had to arrest the swift wish that he would go away and find something else to do and send her one of his other monks instead. Not that any of them would be a great deal better, she reflected; they were excellent at tending the shrine and seeing to the small needs of their visitors, and their devotion to the Virgin and her Holy Place was remarkable. But when a practical mind and a deft pair of hands were required. . . .
Each to his own, the Abbess told herself firmly.
She waited alone for Saul, who arrived very soon afterwards, two other sturdy lay brothers with him. One of them, she noticed with relief, had had the good sense to arm himself with a stout stick.
She saw them on their way, the man who had sounded the alarm walking in their midst. Then, turning to go and join Sister Euphemia in the infirmary, she noticed the lone and forlorn figure of Berthe, coming towards her from the dormitory.
‘Berthe.’ Helewise put out her hands to greet the girl.
But Berthe shook her head. ‘Oh, Abbess, don’t be kind to me, not when we’re bringing you such troubles!’
‘None of which are your fault, Berthe,’ Helewise began. ‘And, in any case—’
But Berthe was rapidly losing what little control she had left. Flinging herself into Helewise’s arms, she sobbed, ‘Abbess, oh, dear, Abbess, Meriel’s gone missing!’
PART TWO
Travellers
Chapter Six
The dead man had been a visitor at the Holy Water shrine in the Vale. Brother Saul and Brother Firmin had both talked briefly to him, and they had a vague impression that the man had spoken with a strange accent.
That, and the information that he had been well equipped for travelling and unaccompanied, was all that the brothers could add to what was evident from the man’s dead body. Which was that he had been around thirty, bearded, with dark hair and a swarthy complexion, sturdily built, of middle height, and well nourished.
One or two of the other pilgrims – pop-eyed with amazement to have the extraordinary thrill of a murder in a place where they had gone for prayer and healing – said that the dead man, who had but recently arrived, had attended some of the services conducted by the brothers, but had hidden himself away at the back, as if he wanted to be unobtrusive.
Nobody knew his name.
But, whoever he was, somebody had badly wanted him dead. He had been attacked from behind, and struck down with a series of blows to the back of the head. There was evidence of severe damage to the skull which, in one place, had collapsed into a distinct indentation. It appeared that further blows had been struck after the man had been felled, since there were deep cuts across his brows.
The body, the surrounding area and the clothing of anybody who had touched the corpse were all heavily stained from the copious amounts of blood that had spattered out like a fountain.
Helewise asked Brother Saul to go through the dead man’s belongings. Saul reported that the man’s small leather satchel was well made but worn, as if from long use, and that the pilgrim’s broad-brimmed hat was decorated with the shell of Santiago di Compostela, and the souvenir badge from the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham. His water bottle, made from a gourd, looked quite new.
He had been dressed in a simple tunic and cloak which, like the rest of his garments, were of cheap, undyed fabric. His boots, however, were sturdy and made of good leather.
From the bloodstains on its thick end and from the location where it had been discovered – beside the dead body – it appeared that the man’s heavy, iron-tipped walking staff had been employed as the murder weapon.
Helewise sat with Brother Saul and Brother Firmin in the rough shelter where the pilgrims took their meals. Brother Firmin, who headed the fully professed monks in the little community, was clearly distraught and not a great deal of help; Helewise had to arrest the swift wish that he would go away and find something else to do and send her one of his other monks instead. Not that any of them would be a great deal better, she reflected; they were excellent at tending the shrine and seeing to the small needs of their visitors, and their devotion to the Virgin and her Holy Place was remarkable. But when a practical mind and a deft pair of hands were required. . . .
Each to his own, the Abbess told herself firmly.
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