The Innocent

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Authors: Bertrice Small
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murder, my sweet lady?" Ida demanded angrily.
    "Unless we can show the sheriff proof positive, we cannot accuse Isleen," Elf said quietly. "God knows the truth of this matter, and God will render his judgment and his punishment in his own time, Ida. We must trust in God." She hugged her nursemaid hard.
    "For you," Ida said, "and for you alone will I be silent. You are now the lady of Ashlin, and I will obey you. Now, release me, child. We must bathe the lord’s body, and lay him out for his burial."
    "Should we tell Isleen?" Elf wondered aloud.
    "Not until he is ready and looking his best," Ida said. "I will go and fetch his shroud."
    Elf sat by her brother’s side praying. Anyone entering the hall would assume that Richard de Montfort was sleeping. When the old woman returned, they stripped Richard’s body and tenderly bathed it. Elf was horrified at his skeletal look. She carefully kept her eyes averted from his private parts and let Ida attend to them. As he was washed, they wrapped him in his shroud, leaving his head uncovered so his mourners might gaze upon his face a final time. When he was buried it would then be covered over.
    Elf looked at her brother’s once handsome face, now peaceful. She touched his cheek, and felt it was cool and waxlike. Tears rolled down her cheeks. What had brought her poor brother to this fate? Was it indeed poison as Ida insisted? It was odd that Dickon had sickened so suddenly when he had been robust all of his life. Bending, she kissed his forehead, then said to Ida, "Send Arthur for a priest. Dickon must be shrived before he is buried. And tell the carpenters to make the lord a fine coffin. My brother will lie in the hall for all his serfs to see and pay their respects."
    "The coffin is already made, lady," Ida said. "I shall call for it to be brought in, and the lord laid in it. Arthur will go for the priest. He will have to bring him from the convent, I fear. There is none nearer."
    "Very well," Elf said. "I shall tell Isleen now." She turned and made her way to the solar, which was behind the hall. Opening the door, she spied Isleen and Saer by the fireplace in a heated discussion.
    Hearing the door creak, Isleen spun about. "What do you want?" she demanded angrily of Elf. Her face was flushed with her ire.
    "Your husband is dead," Elf said.
    "Oh, my God!" Her eyes went to Saer de Bude. "It is too soon!" she said. "He cannot be dead yet! He cannot!" Now her glance took in her sister-in-law. "Could you not have done something, Eleanore?"
    "I am only human, Isleen. I cannot hold back death," Elf said tartly. "You knew Dickon was near his end."
    "But now?" Isleen wailed.
    "It is God’s will," Elf answered her.
    "Oh, cease your pious mouthings at me," Isleen cried, and she stamped her foot. "Now you have what you wanted all along, Ashlin! I hate you! I hate you!" And she burst into tears.
    Saer de Bude gathered his cousin into the shelter of his arms. "She does not mean it, Eleanore," he said. "I am certain she doesn't mean it. She is just distraught with Richard’s death."
    "I was sent from Ashlin at your behest when I was only five years old," Elf said, unable to control the sudden anger she felt welling up. "Great ladies raise their husband’s siblings, children from earlier marriages, and their bastards, Isleen, but you could not be bothered by one small girl. I was fortunate, however, for I found a real home at St. Frideswide's, and I found a wonderful life. I never aspired to possess Ashlin. If you had given my brother children, we should not have come to this point. I should have probably never seen this place again. Your children would have inherited, and if I were lucky, you might have taken a moment to send me word of my brother’s passing. But you did not do your duty by Dickon. You had no children, so under the law Ashlin is mine, but I never wanted it!"
    Isleen looked up from Saer’s shoulders. "I wanted children," she sobbed, "but your brother was not man enough to

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