Wine of Violence

by Priscilla Royal

“I will alert the monks, then return to you immediately.” With that, Anne dashed from the room.

  Suddenly Eleanor felt chilled. She turned back toward the bed to pull a warming blanket from the chest, then stopped. Her hand covered her mouth in horror.

  On her bed lay a knife.

  ***

  Thomas couldn’t sleep. He had tossed and turned since Compline and it was still many hours until Prime. Giving up, he put on his shoes and slipped down the stairs from the dormitory to the cloister. Perhaps some exercise, followed by kneeling on the stone slabs of the chapel, would be sufficient penance and God would grant him a few hours of rest.

  As he walked along the outside wall of the refectory, he heard a commotion behind him, coming from the area of the passageway to the outer court. It was a moonless night, and he could see nothing, but curiosity piqued his interest. He turned toward the sound. From the passageway under the dormitory, he saw two dark figures racing toward him.

  “Stop him. Stop him! He is a murderer!” The voice sounded like Brother Simeon’s.

  Thomas did not hesitate. He ran toward the figure coming at him. The man’s face was turned to look behind him as Thomas dived at his feet and brought him down. The man struggled but Thomas held him pinned to the ground.

  As Simeon came up, panting, Thomas forced the captive onto his back. Staring back at him was the face of Brother John.

  “He tried to kill Prioress Eleanor,” Simeon puffed.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Wine for all, please, Gytha. It is no luxury today,” Eleanor said, her voice echoing in her ears with more steadiness than she felt. “Even I will have some, albeit well-watered.” The pallor of her face matched that of the morning light coming through her chamber window, but Eleanor sat with back straight as she looked at Simeon and Thomas, sitting on stools in front of her. Their faces were gray from lack of sleep and from the shadow of beards yet unshaven.

  Sister Anne sat in silence next to the prioress, her eyes staring at the floor, her back hunched as if in pain.

  Crowner Ralf paced.

  “He refuses to confess to anything, my lady.” Ralf took the goblet from Gytha and drank deeply. “He refuses to speak at all.”

  Simeon waved away any water for his wine. “This is no longer your concern, Crowner. Brother John falls under the jurisdiction of Church law. This is not a civil matter.”

  “It will be my concern until I know whether he was responsible for the deaths of our unknown man and Brother Rupert as well as the attack on Brother Thomas. If he had some special reason for attacking Prioress Eleanor alone, then he is all yours and I still must catch the culprit, or culprits, who did the other deeds.”

  “It would be strange indeed if he didn’t commit all the crimes. Why only attack our prioress? Surely this house of God would not have two murderers, even three, in our midst at the same time?” Thomas asked.

  “Indeed, good brother. My very point!” Simeon waved his empty goblet at Gytha, who scowled and refilled it without water. “Our prioress would not be his only victim.”

  “Good sirs. If you don’t mind, I am still with you. Perhaps you would stop discussing the events of last night as if I were just a corpse placed in your midst to fill a chair.” Eleanor managed a half smile.

  The men muttered apologies.

  Eleanor nodded at the crowner. “I agree with Ralf that we cannot assume Brother John was responsible for both deaths and the attacks on Brother Thomas and me until we either get a confession or find more evidence.”

  “Nonetheless, I saw him running from the direction of the nuns’ quarters, my lady, and I gave chase. He refused to stop when I called out to him to halt. In fact, he ran faster. I say that points to his guilt.” Simeon downed his wine, then scowled at the cup as if it had offended him by being empty. Gytha refilled it without a word.

  “You first said that you saw him running from the church, Brother Simeon,” Eleanor said. “Which now is correct? And if the latter, has he said why he might have been in the church? Perhaps our real culprit has disappeared, and Brother John was in the same vicinity for good and legitimate reasons.”

  “The man is as guilty as Satan himself or else he would say what he was doing,” Simeon replied.

  Ralf shrugged in half-hearted agreement. “’Tis usually the case, my lady.”

  Eleanor nodded and turned to the two monks. “Then you and Brother Thomas would not hesitate to tell me why each of you was abroad last night, also contrary to the rules?”

  Simeon flushed. “Forgive me, my lady, but I do not appreciate such insinuations. I was the man who chased him and risked my life to do so. Why should I fall under suspicion of breaking priory rules?”

  “I did not say you were, good brother. I was merely suggesting that reasons for not being where one is supposed to be might be difficult to give, however satisfactory.”

  “Then I shall speak for myself first,” Thomas said. “I was unable to sleep and thought a walk in the cloister and an hour of prayer in the chapel might help. I had just entered the cloister near the refectory when I saw two dark shadows running toward me. One shouted to me to stop the other. And I did.”

  “And I do believe you, brother. This time.” Eleanor smiled. “Sadly, your good works did not bring you the desired sleep. For that I am sorry.”

  “The reward is but delayed. I am sure that God will be gracious in granting me rest some night in the future.” Thomas smiled back.

  Simeon glared at her through puffy eyes. “Very well, my lady. I, too, was troubled with worries over our failure to bring in enough income to feed us with proper fare for the winter months, and sleep evaded me. I rose and walked toward the church.” He raised his chin. “I feel closer to God in my prayers at the high altar than in our small chapel so I go there.” He hesitated but continued when no one spoke. “Before I got to the sacristy door, I thought I’d check to see if the brewery was locked for the night.” He shrugged. “I do not trust the villagers not to damage…”

  Eleanor cleared her throat and gestured for him to get on with his story.

  “As I began to walk in that direction, I heard a noise behind me. I turned and saw a figure running from the direction of the nuns’ quarters near the sacristy. I immediately called to him, but he ran from me into the monks’ quarters through the passageway door I had foolishly left unlocked…”

  “And thus you have both reasonably explained your actions. Do you think any man should have a good excuse as readily at hand if he is innocent of any evil?” Eleanor pointedly looked at Thomas and raised her eyebrows.

  “He should!” Simeon’s voice was slurred.

  “Perhaps not, my lady,” Thomas admitted quietly.

  “There is also the matter of a wound the guilty man may bear somewhere on his face or hands,” Eleanor said. “The cat must have scratched him. I heard a cry of pain before he ran.”

  Thomas raised his hands, twisting them to show the scrapes on both sides. “I fear scratches may not be good evidence, my lady. As you see, my hands are cut from sliding along the ground as I caught Brother John. Both his hands and face are equally scratched, but the abrasions might have been caused by his fall. Brother Simeon as well has…”

  “A wound in the service of God’s justice is nothing,” Simeon muttered.

  “Well said, brother.” Thomas patted the receiver’s back. “I believe I’ve made my point. There is no simple evidence here.”

  “Nothing about this case has ever been simple,” Ralf growled.

  “Perhaps it is time to make it so.” Eleanor looked at each man in front of her as she continued. “Perhaps I should speak to Brother John alone.”

  “Never!” both Ralf and Simeon said in unison. Thomas, however, nodded approval.

  “He is quite probably a murderer, my lady,” Ralf said, glancing at Sister Anne, who continued to stare in silence at her tightly folded hands.

  “We will all take due precautions, b
ut he may say things to his prioress he would not to any of you. Although temporal justice must be served, the peace of the soul is both spiritual and eternal. As a woman, I cannot be his earthly judge in either secular or religious court. As his prioress, however, I am his spiritual guide. He may listen and talk to me.”

  Ralf raised his eyebrows and nodded.

  “It is not well advised, but perhaps we could arrange some protection for you if you insist.” Simeon downed his third goblet of unwatered wine. Gytha ignored his perfunctory nod at her for a refill and turned to the crowner with the ewer.

  Ralf waved away her offer of wine. “We could come up with a plan to protect you while you speak with him alone as you wish. Allow me to further suggest that you should not do so until at least a day has passed. If he be truly innocent, then some time alone with minimal bread and water in his windowless room by the monks’ latrine will surely bring the man to his senses. Whatever embarrassment he might now feel over some relatively minor sin should fade into reason after many hours of thinking about what could happen to him if he continues to act like a guilty man.”

  Eleanor nodded. “Very well, good sirs. Let us meet tomorrow after Chapter and I will go speak with Brother John alone at that time with your discreet protection.”

  Dismissed, the men rose, bowed, and left.

  Sister Anne also rose to leave.

  “Stay, sister. I would have a brief word,” Eleanor said.

  The tall nun turned toward her prioress, shoulders stooped and expression even sadder than usual. “Of course, my lady.”

  “You were unusually quiet. May I ask why?”

  Tears slowly brimmed and began falling in great drops down the nun’s cheeks. “I have something to tell you in private.”

  Eleanor nodded to Gytha to leave them, then took Anne by the hand, pulling her back down into the seat beside her. “What is troubling you?”

  “You never asked me why I was so close to hand when you cried out.”

  “Indeed, it did not occur to me to ask.”

  “You should.”

  Eleanor looked at Anne, but the nun turned her face from the prioress. “Tell me, then, why you came from the church when you should have been at the hospital or even in your own bed.” Her voice was gentle.

  “I was to meet Brother John in the church last night, my lady.”

  “A meeting not proper within the letter of our vows, for cert, but you know that as well as I. Tell me why you were meeting him at such an hour and alone, Anne?”

  “He asked to do so. It was not for lustful purposes, my lady. He wanted to talk to me about something where no one would hear us.”

  “Why did he say he wanted to meet you?” Eleanor asked, squeezing the distraught nun’s hand.

  “He did not say.”

  “And was he with you when you heard me cry out? If so, he is not guilty of the attack.”

  Sister Anne began to weep in earnest. “My lady, he was not!”

  “Poor child!” Eleanor said and pulled the sobbing nun into her arms. “If he is indeed the murderer of two innocent men and the man who tried to stab me, then Brother Simeon may have frightened him away from the church and saved your life….”

  “Brother John is a kind and gentle man! He is no murderer.”

  Eleanor gently shook her. “You cannot say that for sure, Anne. Despite all our work with them, we may not always know what is in the hearts and souls of our brethren.…”

  “My lady, I know Brother John very well. He was my husband.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Sin! The man is full of the blackest sin!” Simeon was weaving off the pathway.

  Thomas reached out and tried to pull Simeon gently back to the safety of the level walk. “Surely God protected our prioress from Brother John’s black heart.”

  “God’s hand is stronger when supported by a weapon in a good man’s hand!” Simeon waved one of his own hands drunkenly.

  “Aye, and you have been wounded yourself in the good fight against the instrument of Satan,” Thomas said as he caught the waving hand.

  Simeon looked down at his bandaged left hand held by the young monk. “A minor scratch. I fell as I chased Brother John from the church and scraped my hand on the rocks of the path. A minor wound in the battle against God’s enemies!” He belched with evident satisfaction.

  “Has Sister Anne looked…”

  “Eve took the apple from the serpent, brother. I will have no woman touch me with that poisonous hand. In battles between kings, each man aids his fellow. In the wars against sin, wounds must be treated in the same fashion. We monks have no need for the daughters of Eve. I know enough to wrap a scrape.”

  “I meant well, brother. Forgive me if I angered.”

  Simeon slapped Thomas on the back with his free hand. “You did not anger, my son. I know you meant no ill, but once again I would advise you to beware of Sister Anne. She is an arrogant woman and not as holy as she should be.”

  “How so? You have suggested such in the past but never told me your meaning.”

  “She and Brother John were married in the world, brother. I have seen them behave in ways here that make me question their devotion to their vows of chastity.”

  “Surely our prioress has seen this as well, yet Sister Anne has gained her confidence…”

  Simeon snatched his hand from Thomas’ grip. “I do not share your trust in our prioress, Brother Thomas. She is a young woman and inexperienced in the ways of the world. She needs firm guidance in her friendships. I fear that Sister Anne may have blinded her by showing a fine face. Being a woman, Prioress Eleanor is weak and lacking in good judgement. She has been easily beguiled and cannot see the corruption in the nun’s heart.”

  “I am grateful for your wise instruction, brother. Perhaps our prioress would benefit from your words of warning too.”

  “Our descendant of Eve suffers much from the sin of arrogance, I fear, and shows no signs of realizing she needs guidance and the greater wisdom of Adam. After all, whom did she pick as her personal confessor? A murderer! She certainly did not consult with me on that or I would have warned her away from him. And you heard her join with our boorish and irreverent crowner in expressing some doubt that Brother John was guilty of both murders and the attack on her person. Does any of that suggest to you that the woman is rational or a good judge of character?”

  “Perhaps she will see the error of her ways, when she has gained some distance from these horrible events, and be guided by you in the future.”

  Simeon snorted and marched ahead. His anger, it seemed, had burned away the effects of too much unwatered wine. His step was now firm.

  As Thomas stood and watched the man, he sighed. He doubted the good prioress would ever listen to Brother Simeon in the manner he wished, and Thomas thought it equally unlikely that Simeon would ever become reconciled to his new subservient role. In the meantime, Thomas wondered about Brother John’s guilt. He had been surprised to learn that he and Sister Anne had once been married. From what he had observed, he doubted that the monk was a threat to any woman’s chastity, even his own wife’s. He must learn more of what Simeon knew.

  Thomas gathered up his robes and ran after the receiver.

  ***

  “It is all my fault,” Gytha wailed.

  As soon as Sister Anne had left the prioress’s chambers, Gytha had knocked at the door and begged for a private audience. Eleanor was beginning to wonder if God had suddenly changed the rule prohibiting women from being priests, with so many confessions crowding in on her.

  Gytha now stood in front of Eleanor with her head bowed.

  “Child, you should have told this to Crowner Ralf, but you are not to blame for what has happened. Indeed, you warned me of the distrust between village and priory. Although I listened, I failed to hear with my whole heart what you were telling me.”

  “Neither my brother nor I meant to do wrong, my lady.”
r />   Eleanor cut some bread and cheese, then pushed the serving across the table toward the young girl. “Sit. Eat. And tell me all, child.”

  “There is little but that Tostig knew who the dead man was. He was not a village man but he had worked on Tyndal’s farms and came to our market days. My brother knew him from that.”

  “And when he died on our grounds, all believed one of the monks had killed him?”

  Gytha nodded. “Some did for cert.”

  “Why?”

  “Brother Rupert visited him not long after Prioress Felicia died. After that, Eadnoth refused to go near either priory or farm. He wouldn’t say why but he acted like a badly frightened man. Some said he was losing his wits, a few that he was possessed, but many more thought that someone in the priory had threatened him.”

  Eleanor stood up, got another cup from the cabinet, poured some wine into it and watered it well. “You are not eating, child. I do not want you ill over this. And drink the wine. It will strengthen you.” She watched while Gytha took a small bite and then another. “Did I not promise you that no harm would ever come from telling me the truth, however hard it might be for me to hear it. It grieves me that so many fear the inhabitants of the priory because most of us are Normans. Perhaps they do not know that not all of us are, although your brother should. Whatever the case, we are all children of God and equal in His sight, whether we be Saxon, Norman, or even a Scot or a wild Welshman,” Eleanor said, trying to make Gytha smile.

  “Sometimes that has been forgotten, my lady.” The girl’s expression remained solemn.

  “During the time of Prioress Felicia?”

  “She was a kindly woman and meant well. Brother Rupert was gentle and ministered to the spiritual needs of everyone without hesitation. Neither seemed comfortable in dealings with the secular world, despite all that, and they did little to protect us from those who were harsher in their commerce with us.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Brother Simeon was one. He did not treat us as if we were all equal in the sight of God. When crops failed or sickness came or times were hard for other reasons, he called us sinful creatures that deserved whatever evil had befallen us. He gave no mercy in the matter of tithes. When we took our complaints to Prioress Felicia, she told us to see Prior Theobald. And when we spoke with him, he would just shake his head in sadness and say that the world was full of evil and grief or that mortal men were weak creatures in need of greater prayer. Homilies but no action.”