“Now you must eat. It will give you strength.”
The ale had cleared her head somewhat, the painful banging was still there, but she could concentrate a little better now. “I am not hungry,” Amandine answered as Abbot Daniel tore a small piece of bread off the loaf and placed it near her lips.
“Eat,” he encouraged again.
But the bread was too much for her. She did not have the strength to chew, or the will too for that matter.
“I wish we had some gruel,” Abbot Daniel said with a small sigh. “I guess I will have to hold her up the best I can. Pass me the clothes.”
“What is she wearing? Is that a man’s tunic?” Sampson asked as he pulled on his own habit, which he had wrapped up and hidden under the nun’s clothes that he had worn. He picked those clothes up now and handed the habit and veil to the Abbot.
“I do believe it is. How very shameful, Brother Sampson. How will we punish her?” Abbot Daniel mocked.
“I do not think it shameful. I think it is sad. That tunic was what she had on when last I saw her. That tunic belongs to Merton, if I am not mistaken.”
“Yes, I believe you are right.” Abbot Daniel agreed sadly. “She is certainly a wretched sight to behold. May God show her compassion.”
Like a loving father, Abbot Daniel helped Amandine to pull the nun’s clothes over the ones she wore.
“I don’t understand,” Amandine moaned softly, her head lolling to one side as she spoke. Why couldn’t they just leave her be?
“Drink some more, my dear. You must stay awake. You can sleep all you want later when you are far away from here and somewhere safe.”
Sampson sighed deeply. “This is madness. You won’t get past the guards outside.”
“Well if we don’t, you most certainly won’t,” Abbot Daniel pointed out. “You know where you are going, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Sampson stated with an air of annoyance. “Do not concern yourself with me. I’ll not be caught.”
“And then it is back to Caldey with you. I think you have had enough excitement for one lifetime.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Sampson stated, but he knew now was not the time, so he said no more.
Abbot Daniel smiled encouragingly at Amandine. “Drink a little more, that’s my girl. Now I need you to listen very carefully,” he placed the veil on her head and tucked in her short strands of hair as if he was dressing a child. “You have to pretend to be Sister Mary Elizabeth — she is a very pious woman from Rome. Keep your head down at all times and if anyone speaks to you, do not answer them. I will tell them that you have taken a vow of silence… Or something like that.”
Behind him, Sampson scoffed, but the Abbot ignored him.
“Can you stand?” Abbot Daniel asked.
“What… What do you want from me?” Amandine asked for she knew not what to think. Was this yet another cruel trick? Did they want to accuse her of imitating a nun at the same time as demon worship? Was she to be burnt alive, dressed in these clothes? The potion…where was it? Did she have time to drink it?
Sampson had picked up the apothecary bottle and sniffed the contents, screwing up his nose as he did so. “Hemlock? Why would she have a bottle of hemlock in her chamber?” he asked, putting the poison back down very quickly.
“Hemlock?” Abbot Daniel stood as he spoke. He crossed the room, picked up the bottle and sniffed.
“Who gave you this?” he demanded to know, turning to look at Amandine with questions in his eyes.
All this time, the answer to her prayers had been in this very room. Bastian had not given her a potion to lessen the pain. He had given her a poison to kill herself. She watched in horror as Abbot Daniel tipped the bottle upside down. The contents soaking into the reeds on the floor, and all her hopes of a quick death disappeared.
“You have no need for poison,” Abbot Daniel stated, bending down and helping Amandine on to her feet. She swayed alarmingly, for it felt as if she were on a boat. The banging in her head intensified, and she began to retch. Before Abbot Daniel could reach for the chamber pot, Amandine had emptied her stomach of what little ale she had managed to drink onto the floor.
Afterwards, she cowered like a dog knowing a beating was coming, she raised her hands to cover her face and began to chant. “I am a daughter of Satan. I consort with demons. I am evil. I am a sinner. My soul will burn in hell. I will be damned forever—”
“Stop it,” Abbot Daniel spoke firmly. He took hold of her hands and brought them away from her face. “I would never beat you. That was the old Abbot. But he is dead now, can’t you remember? I will not hurt you. Tell me,” he grabbed hold of her shoulder’s and looked earnestly into her face. “Have you taken any of that vile stuff?”
“No,” Amandine answered weakly, although she wished she had.
“This isn’t going to work,” Sampson said, yet again.
“Brother Sampson, would you please shut up,” Abbot Daniel snapped. “What has gotten into you? This is God’s work that we do today. Have a little faith.”
“It is not my faith I am questioning. It is our wisdom. She is going to be recognised.”
“No, she isn’t,” Abbot Daniel said firmly. He turned his attention back to Amandine. “My Lady, you must do everything I tell you to without question or thought, and I mean, everything. For the next few moments, all I want you to concentrate on is me. Do not look around. Do not let your eyes control the action of your body. You must be as a blind man is and completely trust me wherever I lead you. Can you do that?”
“Do I have a choice?” Amandine asked weakly as the Abbot offered her some more ale. She took a sip, but she really did not feel like drinking.
“Yes, of course you have a choice. You may stay here and wait for your execution, or you can come with me and live. I know which one I would prefer, but it is not, as they say, my life.”
“I can walk out of here,” Amandine said with determination, raising her throbbing head to look at the Abbot.
“I thought you might. Come on then,” he let go of her shoulders and wrapped his arm around her instead. “Lean on me,” he advised. “If anyone asks, I will tell them that you were overwhelmed by Amandine’s demonic presence.”
Sampson scoffed again.
“Be brave my dear, and know that God will deliver us from the paw of the lion.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze in encouragement. “Are you ready?” He looked at Sampson as he spoke.
“This is madness,” Sampson once again repeated, and then he sighed. “I am ready.”
“Let’s get this over with then. Remember, do not be afraid, for our dear God, our father in Heaven, is with us. He will not let us face our enemies alone.” Abbot Daniel reached for the door, while Sampson hung back, out of view.
“She will not pray with us,” Abbot Daniel stated sadly as he stepped outside with his arm still wrapped around Amandine’s shoulders. He made sure he left the door ajar. Now all he had to do was distract the guards so Sampson could make good his escape. “I fear she is beyond redemption. Poor Sister Mary Elizabeth has never seen anything like it. She feels quite ill from being in that woman’s presence.”
“I did warn you, Abbot, that the good Sister should not breathe the same air as that witch,” one of the guards reminded him. “Lady Amandine is an evil woman. I for one cannot wait to see her burn.”
“I should have heeded your words. I am sorry that I did not. You lost your brother at the hands of Merton, I believe?” Abbot Daniel continued as he began to walk slowly down the corridor. Like a shepherd, Abbot Daniel’s flock always followed — the guards were no exception.
“That bastard broke my brother’s neck,” the guard seemed unaware that he had used vulgar language in front of the Abbot. And neither was he aware that another monk slipped quietly out of the door to Amandine’s chamber. Sampson carefully shut the door and then like a ghost, he disappeared down the corridor away from the guards and towards the Royal Chambers.
&nbs
p; “We all lost someone by Merton’s hand,” the other guard stated. “I was one of the lucky ones. I came out of the fight with just a broken arm,” he flexed the arm in question.
“And thank God for that,” Abbot Daniel stated, still walking.
“If you want my opinion, Lady Amandine deserves everything that is coming to her,” the first guard stated. “Philippe should have executed her long before now. She should have been thrown into the grave with Merton. Not pampered like a princess and allowed to live a life of indulgence.”
To be in the presence of such hatred was not easy. Amandine trembled, and her stomach turned over. She feared she was going to be sick again or else disgrace herself entirely by losing control of her bowels. She gritted her teeth and endured the pain, for in this she had no choice.
“Good King Philippe had his reasons. Our King is a honourable man who was, I believe, uneasy with the idea of executing a woman. Our dear King has morals,” Abbot Daniel stated. “And once again we should thank God for that. For a good king should always have morals.”
“A leader is only as good as his convictions,” the first guard agreed.
“Spoken like a true knight,” Abbot Daniel answered with a caring smile. For they were all members of his congregation and he cared for them all.
“Abbot Daniel, excuse me for speaking out of turn, but Sister Mary Elizabeth does not look too steady on her feet,” the first guard said with a concerned frown. “Should I fetch her some water?”
“Oh no, son, do not bother yourself on our account. My poor dear Sister has no experience with sinful women, and Lady Amandine is so wilful. She is so arrogant and defiant. I thought, today of all days, Lady Amandine would be repentant, but sadly, no.”
Amandine swayed on her feet, and she closed her eyes, wishing with all her heart that she could close her ears as well. Why did Abbot Daniel linger so? What was he doing talking to the guards? They should be fleeing. Any second and she would be discovered.
“All will be well soon, Sister,” the second guard stated in a kind voice. “She will soon be dead and her sins with her.”
Amandine, remembering Abbot Daniel’s words, said nothing. Although she wanted to raise her head and spit in the guard’s face.
“Perhaps some fresh air would do her good,” the guard suggested.
“Perhaps you are right,” Abbot Daniel said with another smile. “I will see you in Church. You had better get back to your charge.”
“She isn’t going anywhere, except for the pyre,” the first guard answered with a careless shrug.
Abbot Daniel squeezed Amandine’s shoulders again in encouragement. “Come on my dear. I will have Brother Jagu make you up a remedy to restore the spirit.” Abbot Daniel led her slowly away from the guards, and towards the staircase. She leant heavily against him, and she could not help but tremble. Her stomach was cramping so badly now that she gasped in pain and bent over, sweat broke out upon her brow, and she realised that she wasn’t going to make it.
“Keep walking,” Abbot Daniel encouraged under his breath. “It is just nerves. You can walk through them.”
Amandine looked at the grey flagstone floor as she walked, not daring to raise her head, her breath came in short gasps.
“Deep breaths, my child. Deep breaths.”
They came to the top of the staircase, and Amandine looked down at the steep steps with trepidation. Her head began to spin again. “I am going to be sick,” she whispered. “And I need to find a chamber pot.”
“No, you don’t,” Daniel stated firmly, in an equally quiet voice. “Courage child. God is with us.”
38
With agonising slowness, Abbot Daniel helped Amandine down the staircase. An old ginger cat dodged their every footstep, meowing pitifully at Amandine, asking her to pick him up.
“A friend?” Abbot Daniel asked, with quiet humour.
“Elouan,” Amandine stated looking down at the cat she thought was dead. But the pain in her stomach was so great that she couldn’t concentrate on the cat. “Go, find mice,” she whispered weakly.
“Best to ignore him, dear. He will soon get the message,” the Abbot promised. “I will make sure he is looked after.”
The Abbot’s words were true, for Elouan was too proud to keep begging for a petting if one was not immediately forthcoming. He scampered ahead of them down the stairs and then weaved between feet as he made his break for freedom. Amandine watched as he vanished out of sight and she knew she would never see him again. Bastian had taken her hairbrush away from her last night, and now the cat was gone too. There was nothing of Garren left, and all she had of Merton was the tunic she wore under the habit and a love that would never die. She tried to still her mind and think only of Merton and not of the situation she found herself in. Amandine tried desperately to calm herself. Frightened she most definitely was, but she would not allow that fear to give her away. She could be brave…
“Keep your head down,” Abbot Daniel whispered when they finally reached the ground floor. Amandine did not need to look up to know that the corridor, which led one way to the Great Hall and the other to the courtyard, was filled with men…soldiers.
“Abbot Daniel,” a voice called unexpectedly, and Amandine’s heart froze with fear.
The Abbot whispered something wholly ungodly under his breath and turned to face their adversary.
“Your Majesty,” Abbot Daniel planted a smile on his face that could have fooled Satan. “Bishop Peter. Archbishop Verus? I was unaware that you had arrived,” Abbot Daniel said, speaking in Latin so all could understand him. “But may I congratulate you on your surprising elevation? I certainly did not see it coming…but then, nobody did.”
Verus, The Archbishop of Tours, was so old in years that his skin seemed to hang from his body with an almost translucent quality. He was also completely bald. He did, however, have some rather severe-looking black eyebrows. Abbot Daniel had a suspicion that the eyebrows were painted on. It was reported that the Archbishop was as bitter as any man had any right to be. And looking into his face, Abbot Daniel could believe it. The Archbishop held out his aged weary hand. Abbot Daniel let go of Amandine so that he could kiss the absurdly large ecclesiastical ring on the Archbishop’s stick-thin finger.
“No one was more surprised than I,” the Archbishop said, although his face portrayed no such amazement. “I am but a humble senior priest, nothing more, and nothing less. But I think it was the right time for me to be recognised for all the good work I do. Of course, I was no ordinary Bishop, and the Pope acknowledged that. Bishop Peter, I believe that one day soon, we will also call you Archbishop.”
Bishop Peter did not speak, but he tilted his head in agreement.
“Of course, we can not all hope to become Archbishops.” The Archbishop turned his attention back to Abbot Daniel. “You being only an Abbot means the chances of you becoming an Archbishop are very…” he laughed instead of finishing his sentence.
“I can not think of a man more deserving than you. You must be so proud of…” Abbot Daniel hesitated while he desperately tried to find the right word that would adequately describe this self-important, arrogant priest that stood in front of him. He wondered who the Archbishop had to bribe to receive such advancement. “…Your achievement.”
“Of course I am proud, Abbot Daniel. Why would I not be? Not everyone has it in them to rise to Archbishop. Especially provincial Abbots, such as yourself.”
“I am content just to serve God,” Abbot Daniel stated with all sincerity.
“Of course you are. Sister Mary Elizabeth?” the Archbishop turned his attention to Amandine. “I heard you were here. Strange that the Pope said nothing to me about you coming.” He made this statement sound like a question.
Abbot Daniel had told her to remain silent, so silent she would remain. Amandine’s stomach cramped again, and she held her breath.
“Will you not look at me?” the Archbishop asked. “Come, will you not share a greeting with an old frie
nd?”
No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. If she raised her head, the Archbishop would see her for the fraud that she was. Philippe would see that she was trying to escape, and all would be lost. She began to visibly tremble.
Abbot Daniel gently wrapped his arm around Amandine’s shoulders again. “Sister Mary Elizabeth is not feeling herself. Something she ate perhaps? Or maybe it is just the excessive amount of travelling she has undertaken in the last sennight. I would advise not to get too close. She has already purged her stomach twice, and we have only just made it down the stairs,” Abbot Daniel stated with an air of joviality.
Everyone took a hasty step back, with looks of disgust on their faces. Surprisingly, Philippe, however, did not. Usually, Philippe was the first to run in the opposite direction when he found out someone was ill.
Amandine could feel Philippe’s gaze on her, and she held her breath. I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die and so is Abbot Daniel. She clenched her teeth together for fear she would say the words out loud.
“Have you seen the prisoner?” Philippe asked, addressing Abbot Daniel, his face full of questions.
“Yes. I have come directly from Lady Amandine’s chamber.”
“I think we do not need to address her as Lady Amandine anymore. She is a common criminal. A witch. A demon worshipper. A follower of Satan,” the Archbishop revelled in the words as he listed her crimes, ticking them off on his fingers as he did so. “An adulteress. A whore. She is nothing but evil and evil must not have a name. Any good she ever had in her has been stripped away. She must be purged.”
“Of course,” Abbot Daniel replied. “Please forgive me. I wasn’t aware that saying her name is a sin. But, despite everything, I believe that underneath her wickedness there is a spark of goodness.”
“There is no goodness where evil lurks,” the Archbishop stated wisely.
“Perhaps you are right. But you see, like Jesus, I try to see the good in everyone. A terrible failing of mine I am afraid.”
“And of his,” the Archbishop stated seriously. “Although you are only following in his example. And you are just an Abbot — you can be excused for making certain…mistakes.”
The Du Lac Princess: (Book 3 of The Du Lac Chronicles) Page 45