Read Online The Way Between the Worlds by Alys Clare - Free Book Online

concealed behind a stand of brambles, the brilliant green leaves of which shone in the dim light.
    I went to join them. Hrype said solemnly, ‘Now, Elfritha. Please tell us who it was that died, and what happened.’
    Elfritha thought for a few moments, and then began to speak. ‘The dead nun’s name was Sister Herleva,’ she said quietly. ‘She hasn’t – she hadn’t been at the abbey very long, only six months or so, but already we were good friends. She was young and light-hearted, and inclined to be silly. She was often in trouble for giggling, but she didn’t seem able to help herself. She loved life, and there was a radiance about her that made others happy just to be with her.’ My sister’s voice shook, and she took a steadying breath. ‘Three days ago – no, four – she didn’t appear for compline. That’s our last office, just before we go to bed. It wasn’t the first time she’d missed an office, and we didn’t think much about it beyond being sorry for her because she’d be in trouble again and have to do a more severe penance than last time.’ She paused, her eyes cloudy with sorrow. ‘But she wasn’t in her bed the next morning, and then we knew something had happened. The nun who comes round to rouse us saw the empty bed, and she turned away without a word and hurried off. Later we noticed that all the senior nuns were busy searching for Herleva, and then word went round that she’d been found.’ She gave a sob, quickly suppressing it. ‘She was lying behind the stable, and they discovered a big lump on the back of her head. Someone said there was patch of blood staining her veil. She was a novice,’ she added absently, ‘so her veil was white. There was a deep cut in her neck and a lot more blood and they – they’re saying there was a pool of vomit beneath her head.’
    The poor girl. She must have realized what was happening, and her fear had brought that violent reaction in her guts. I found myself hoping fervently that the blow to her head had knocked her unconscious, so that there had been no awareness of the knife in her throat that took her life. If her assailant had hit her hard enough, it probably would have done. She might even have been dead before the cut; it depended on how much blood had come out of the wound. Edild had taught me that living bodies spurt blood from wounds, whereas it only seeps from someone whose heart has ceased to beat.
    But I was thinking like a healer, not as a loving sister. Elfritha, beside me, was trembling with distress, and I hadn’t even offered her a word of comfort. I took hold of her hand. It was very cold, so I wrapped her in my arms, trying to soothe and reassure her with my body warmth.
    Glancing at Hrype, I saw that he was frowning, apparently deep in thought. Elfritha went to speak again, but I touched her cheek and, when she looked at me, shook my head. Hrype does not like to be interrupted when he is thinking.
    After what seemed like a very long time, he nodded and said, ‘Very interesting.’ He added something else, which could have been: it is as I thought .
    But whatever he thought, he wasn’t going to share it with us. When this became clear, Elfritha – who, unlike me, is not used to his ways – looked indignant. ‘Is that all you have to say?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes,’ Hrype replied. ‘Come, we must get back. You should return to the abbey before anyone misses you.’
    Elfritha picked up her bunch of water pepper and – side by side, with Hrype silently following – we went back along the quay. We saw her as far as the abbey gates, where she and I said our farewells. ‘We are holding a vigil for Herleva,’ she said, ‘and I doubt I shall be able to see you again.’
    ‘I understand, I’ll come back when—’
    But Hrype, his expression abruptly sharpening, interrupted. ‘The dead girl is not yet buried?’
    ‘No. Father Clement is away and will not be here until the morning. He’s our new priest; he was