by Mary Bale
Odon nodded. ‘Move the embroidery away to a place of safety – the builders’ tents – and get everyone out of here before masonry starts falling.’
Out on the hill Odon found Sister Agnes by his side watching the building burn.
‘Sisters Maude and Mabel got the animals out, Your Grace,’ she said curtseying.
Odon looked at her. She was another of these Anglo-Saxons. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted them with such an important job, but their embroidery skills were renowned across the continent.
‘I see you have taken the embroidery to safety.’
‘That is none of your business,’ snapped Odon.
‘But you have arrested little Eric and he helped me save it.’
‘You Anglo-Saxons are all in this together. You knew there were thieves coming, you and the boy, and you left the embroidery panels behind the kitchen wall for them.’ Any friendship he’d felt for these people withered away as Sister Agnes cried,
‘You are mistaken, Your Grace.’
‘Take this one and place her with the boy,’ he said to his guard. ‘She will be held under arrest with the others. ‘Your thieves did not come, Sister. They heard me and fled.’ As the guard dragged her from him he added, ‘Ursula, your ex-prioress, will join you in prison, so you won’t be alone.’
‘Your Grace, please listen,’ groaned Sister Agnes.
‘You will all have your chance to speak, but not today. I will hold an inquiry into this, and those that have done wrong will be punished.’
* * *
As soon as she was awake Therese had to tell Abbess Eleanor everything. She was comfortable in the Abbess’s bed at St Augustine’s. She couldn’t remember having had cushions before. Her run in with Sister Hilda seemed as if it had been a bad dream and that was how she intended to keep it. The Abbess seemed horrified at her tales, and that Therese quite enjoyed too. But when she asked about Ursula and Eric, Abbess Eleanor patted her hand sadly and said,
‘Later.’ And then more brightly she said, ‘The remaining embroidery panels are already on their way to Bayeux.’
‘Now I want to hear everything that has happened to you!’ Therese realised how forward and disrespectful she’d been almost as soon as the words left her mouth, so she smiled apologetically.
The Abbess took the apology. ‘I will tell you everything,’ she said. ‘Even about an episode I am most ashamed of, when I dressed as a monk.’ Therese watched her elder’s face redden and then Abbess Eleanor sat for an age on the edge of her bed filling her in on every detail of her investigations. It was lovely just to hear her voice and enjoy the trust of this woman she thought so much of.
As she finished the door burst open and Brother David entered. He was carrying papers, scrolls rolled up under his arm, and he seemed disorientated. His steps wove towards the bed despite the Abbess yelling at him to leave.
‘You are at St Augustine’s not Christchurch. This is my room and you have no right to come in.’
He shook his head, and as he turned to go, Therese tweaked the paper at the centre of the loose roll of documents under his arm. While the Abbess took him out of the room she quickly read it. The words made little sense to her, and as the Abbess returned she laid them on her bed as if they’d just fallen there. This spy thing would be difficult to get out of, she decided.
‘He says he’s left a paper,’ said Abbess Eleanor, and under her breath she said, ‘He’s drunk.’ She took the document off the bed and Therese asked her,
‘Could I see Ursula or Eric?’
‘I’m sorry Therese. They’ve been arrested along with Sister Agnes.’
‘Why?’
‘Bishop Odon’s got it into his head that they were involved in a plot to steal and destroy the embroidery.’
Therese started to get out of bed.
‘No, Sister. There is nothing you can do today. Tomorrow the Bishop holds his enquiry at Christ Church Abbey. We will be there. I have Bishop Odon’s word on that.’
* * *
As Therese entered the hall Brother Richard of Caen went past. He nodded politely and she and the Abbess beside her returned the compliment. Therese noticed Abbess Eleanor blush.
‘Go in, go in,’ urged the Abbess as she looked at her curiously. ‘I told you that I was posing as a Brother from Caen – where he comes from!’ she hissed.
Inside the dignitaries had already arrived and were seated on a platform on one side of the hall. In front of them was a space with just one writing desk, at which a clerk could stand and take notes of the proceedings. Brother David was already stooped over it. She was shown with the Abbess to the other side of the room and they were seated in the front row facing the podium and barely more than an arm’s length from Brother David.
Sitting quietly she observed Bishop Odon opposite her. He had taken the central chair. Rufus was on his left and Robert Curthose on his right and next to him sat Edgar the Aethling. Prioress Ethelburga entered and was shown to a seat next to Abbess Eleanor, while Sir Gilbert filed in with the various groups of bodyguards belonging to the nobility present. These stood behind the nuns. Finally a small group of ragged individuals were brought in. They were bound and their bodies were bent with exhaustion. They were flanked by militia.
Ursula, Alfred, Sister Agnes, Eric and Michael. They did not look as if they could hurt a soul. Eric spotted Therese and waved. She waved back despite Abbess Eleanor’s click of disapproval. They were prisoners. She knew that, but still she felt they were her friends. Yet, from what the Abbess had told her, there seemed so much evidence against them. If they were traitors then they’d deceived her. They hadn’t told her lies, but they’d concealed the truth. She understood Bishop Odon’s need for an inquiry. She too had questions she wanted answered. If the truth was brought out there might be some way to save their lives even if she could not free them. How she hoped for their innocence and a way to prove it.
Odon opened the proceedings by pointing out that the prisoners were charged with plotting to steal the embroidery to ensure its destruction, and that they were involved with the earlier attempt to damage it. However he wasn’t sure that the matter rested with these individuals and the only way to find out who was at the bottom of all this, was to listen to their stories.
Therese wanted to complain that this was presuming their guilt. She almost stood up, but Odon added, ‘This is not a court of law, just an inquiry into matters at the Priory of St Thomas and in this respect everyone’s co-operation is necessary.’
She sat back and waited as Odon directed Ursula to start. The ex-Prioress explained about finding the Impostor who’d feigned deafness to gain the nuns’ confidence, how they’d fought and fallen. Ursula finished with, ‘I received no clue as to who, if anyone, had directed her to do this.’
‘Why did you hide?’ asked Odon.
‘I didn’t know who to trust.’
‘You could have come to me.’ Odon leaned forward.
She bowed her head.
‘You mean you didn’t trust me? This is diabolical nonsense. What would I be doing trying to destroy a valuable item commissioned by myself?’
‘Your Grace, you are a very powerful man. It is not unknown for people to be set up so that it appears they’ve done wrong, then they can be punished for any number of real reasons – jealousy, spite, political posturing.’
‘Are you accusing me of these things?’
‘No, Your Grace. I realise now that there must be a more straightforward explanation, but I was horrified at the rumours put about after my apparent death that I was a traitor. Sister Agnes heard them as I was lying unconscious in the infirmary. When I came round she told me what was being said.’
Therese noticed Prioress Ethelburga twitch, but her tight face gave nothing away.
‘That’s enough for now.’ Odon was clearly impatient. ‘Does anyone have anything to say or questions to ask on what has just been said?’
Prioress Ethelburga remained silent.
‘Alfred o
f St Edmundsbury, state your involvement in this matter.’
Alfred stepped forward and claimed that he’d only become involved when Sister Agnes sent word to him at Ursula’s funeral. She told him that his sister was hiding at St Augustine’s disguised as a kitchen servant. He took the role of her guard until the arrival of Abbess Eleanor and Sister Therese when the three women hatched the plan to put the young novice into the Priory of St Thomas the Apostle.
Odon turned to Abbess Eleanor. Therese felt the cold draft of anger flash across from him. Abbess Eleanor rose.
‘Your Grace,’ she started apologetically.
Therese stood. ‘I insisted. It was my idea.’
Odon turned towards her with a softened face. ‘Foolish child,’ he said. ‘These older women should have known better than to place you in danger.’
The Abbess lowered her head and Ursula lowered hers further, onto her chest.
‘I wanted to protect the embroidery,’ insisted Therese.
The Abbess touched her arm. ‘It does not matter now, Sister Therese.’
Odon’s anger had faded to irritation. ‘Yes, yes, very well,’ he said letting the matter drop. Therese still spotted the frosty look he directed at Abbess Eleanor. ‘Sit down both of you,’ he said before addressing the row of prisoners: ‘Alfred, continue.’
Alfred cleared his throat and spoke without looking at anyone but Odon de Bayeux. ‘I was supposed to set up camp beyond the woods on the southern slope facing the priory, but when I got there I met a trader I knew quite well, Michael. I buy wool and he trades in threads. He invited me to stay at his camp, so I did. During the day I waited in the arranged place. I was pleased I’d made the alternative arrangements because there was a freshly dug grave higher up. I would not have wished to sleep there.’
Therese decided that she had to agree with him about that place. She would not have wished to spend the night there either.
‘On one occasion, though, Michael said that I was wanted up at the Priory of St Thomas. I thought perhaps Sister Therese had sent for me, but he said Prioress Ethelburga had directed him to send me to her. I was, of course, concerned as they were not meant to know I was here. I went and I was sent away. There was no such demand from Prioress Ethelburga. I assumed it was some silly joke of Michael’s. When he returned to camp I argued with him about it.’
So that was why he wasn’t there the day Michael brought her the boy, thought Therese. The Welshman must have watched her leave the gatehouse and walk round that side of the Priory before sending Alfred on his fool’s errand. Michael and the boy must’ve travelled quite fast to get there when they did – on one of the ponies, perhaps. She hadn’t seen one, but he could have been tethered out of sight.
‘Do you know this child?’ asked Odon of Alfred, pointing at Eric.
‘He was in Michael’s camp. That same night we were arrested by your men, Your Grace. I did not see him on our march to Dover Castle so I assumed he’d run away when the soldiers came.’
No wonder her friends looked tired, thought Therese. They’d been marched from prison in Dover for this inquiry. But what concerned her most was that Michael, for whatever reason, seemed to have gone to a lot of trouble to secure Eric a place in the Priory, and that must count against them both. Therese brought herself back to the action before her. Odon was already talking to Sister Agnes.
‘Before we discuss the boy there is the matter of who lies in the grave of Prioress Ursula.’
‘Your Grace, I have done a great wrong. It is Sister Ann, who lies there.’ Sister Agnes bowed her head. Disgusted whisperings went around the hall.
‘Your penance for that sacrilege will be dealt with separately.’ There was a great deal of satisfaction in Bishop Odon’s voice, thought Therese. ‘Now I want to know about the boy,’ he continued.
‘I found him a home with one of the builder’s wives. He only returned on the night of the fire because he wanted to see Sister Therese.’
Therese jumped up again. ‘I took him in,’ she said defensively.
‘This Welshman tricked you into taking the boy in, Sister. I can see that.’ Odon de Bayeux gestured at Michael. Therese could not deny it. She sat down feeling confused.
‘Eric helped to save the embroidery,’ said Sister Agnes.
‘As I told you on the night of the fire, there were thieves in the area. How do I know that you were not taking it out for them to carry away?’ asked Odon.
Agnes shook her head. ‘I…’
Eric shouted vehemently, ‘We weren’t! We weren’t! We weren’t!’ And he stamped his foot. ‘I’m not a thief and Sister Agnes is not a thief.’
‘Be quiet, boy,’ said Odon. The chilling note in his voice brought the child to a halt. ‘If you say another word you will be removed.’
Eric slunk back into line.
As she sat listening Therese tried to sift through all the things she’d learnt over the last few weeks. There must be something that would help. She was sure they were just skimming the top of the porridge bowl of information. There was far more to be found. It was just a matter of stirring. She rose to her feet.
‘I would like to ask Eric who his father is, Your Grace,’ she said. If he was Norman as Michael had said, then his credibility would be enhanced. But as she posed the question she saw Michael shake his head and cover his face with his hands.
‘You may answer,’ said Odon.
‘My father is Elderic,’ came the reply.
There was a shocked gasp from most of those present, though the name meant nothing to Therese.
‘Elderic of Wales?’ asked Odon through gritted teeth.
The boy nodded. ‘Yes, Your Grace.’
From the reaction of the people around her she knew her question had condemned her friends.
‘Elderic is responsible for endless raids on the Earls along the Welsh border region,’ said Odon. ‘He may have once dropped his actions against the Conqueror, but the Welsh have not submitted to the Norman rule. Your blood confirms your guilt and that of your companions.’
Therese sat down and turned to the Abbess. ‘I didn’t know,’ she said, perplexed.
Abbess Eleanor shook her head. ‘As Elderic placed his son with Michael, the rebel must respect our merchant friend. So, where does that leave Michael’s loyalties?’
‘But they are all innocent,’ insisted Therese, gesturing to the row of her accused friends.
Chapter 24
Therese stood up to protest against the summary justice being handed out to Ursula, Alfred, Sister Agnes, Eric and Michael. But the hall was in chaos, many of the guards, especially the three belonging to Rufus, seemed prepared to take the prisoners to the castle there and then for immediate execution. It wasn’t her Anglo-Saxon birth that drove her to rifle through her mind for something that could stir the bottom layer of this porridge of secrets. She realised her only wish now was for the truth. A slight sideways dig could well drag something to the top.
‘Your Grace, another matter has recently come to my attention, which may be relevant.’ Therese stood her ground and repeated her statement until Odon called for calm. She looked at Brother David and wondered what he would say as she mentioned what she’d seen in one of his documents she’d read in her room. The hall became quiet.
‘Your Grace, Bishop Odon de Bayeux, I wish to address Edgar the Aethling.’
She felt a hand on her arm and looked towards its owner, Abbess Eleanor.
‘This is not advisable,’ said the Abbess.
‘I understand that Edgar Aethling was in this area of Kent for a particular purpose,’ explained Therese, trying to remember the details in the letter and trying to ignore the Abbess. It had been sent from the clergy at Winchester and was addressed to Archbishop Lanfranc. The comment about Edgar’s visit was made in passing with other news. She could not tell Bishop Odon that she’d been reading the great man’s correspondence. Presumably Brother David had been in St Augustine’s the day she read the letter because he wanted to disc
uss its contents with the Aethling who was also staying there. And that was why he’d strayed into her room.
‘Yes.’ Edgar answered her directly. ‘I was here for a reason, but not one that is anybody’s business but my own.’
‘I think it is all of our business. I understand you went to see your sister at Wilton and she told you about the Priory of St Thomas the Apostle.’ The letter mentioned he’d asked about the place.
Brother David stared at her.
Odon turned to her and asked, ‘You mean, Sister Therese that Edgar Aethling is somehow involved in all of this?’
‘I believe so.’
Brother David shifted from one foot to the other. Therese wasn’t sure if he was going to accuse her of reading Archbishop Lanfranc’s letter from Winchester, but he clearly decided against it and returned to his work of documenting proceedings.
But Bishop Odon was shouting at Edgar Aethling, ‘The thieves melted away. I knew you’d given them warning. You just created a show as an excuse for being in the area.’
‘We rescued Ursula.’
‘But she’s a traitor too.’
‘You’ve got this all wrong,’ said the Aethling. ‘I was, indeed, interested in the Priory of St Thomas the Apostle – that is true. I was looking for someone. Back home I received a letter from a distant cousin of yours that their daughter was missing. Her family did not want to alarm anyone as they thought she’d gone to a religious establishment in England. They asked me to make enquiries as they knew my sister, Christina, is in holy orders over here. When I spoke to her, she suggested I tried St Thomas’s.’
Therese sat down, her mind racing. If this girl went to St Thomas’s then, ‘The Impostor was a Norman,’ she blurted out. ‘The Norman Knight who left our ship in the storm and visited the Impostor’s grave was not an Anglo-Saxon’s lover, but a Norman’s.’ She looked at Edgar. ‘The girl you were looking for was our Impostor.’