Threads of Treason (5 page)

Therese felt caught between them as they argued across her and yet the stories of the land of her birth held a new intensity for her.

‘
Many rebels have given lip-service to the King. Such bought peace cannot last,’ said Michael. ‘Malcolm married Edgar’s sister. When a Scottish King becomes King of England, then you will have back a truly English King.’ Michael leaned back in his saddle.

‘
That will not happen in my life time,’ said the Abbess. ‘Welshman,’ she added curtly, ‘we would be more comfortable if you rode at a distance.’ She shook her reins at the mules and turned away from the pony-rider.

Having ridden just ahead of them Michael turned back and said: ‘The Welsh have not rolled over for William the Conqueror of England with his border Earls fighting our Welsh Kings. He will have to fight for every grain of Welsh soil.’

‘
We shall see,’ said the Abbess. She yelled at the mules in her native tongue and Therese had to grip the edge of the cart as the wheels lifted and fell over the rutted track.

Michael and his men and boy left them at the church of St Martin, well outside the gates of Canterbury, just as the sun rose. Therese tried to take in the details of his face, as she hadn’t seen it properly during the night. She noted his dark eyes, quick smile and broad nose. And then he was gone.

‘
Are we not going to do anything about the Welshman?’ asked Therese. ‘He has surely spoken treason to us.’

‘
Much is said in the dark of the night, you cannot pay it too much attention once the sun has risen,’ Abbess Eleanor replied.

The wagon continued on its way to Canterbury and Therese looked about. The road was already busy with people hurrying about their business. Some were travellers on the road to London, most were on foot, but some carried their luggage or wares strapped to a donkey or on an ox-cart. As they came closer to St Augustine’s Abbey Therese realised a large number of the people were builders carrying their tools wrapped in cloth.

‘
King William has commanded all these grand building works, Sister Therese.’

‘
Is this where we will find the Archbishop of Canterbury?’ asked Therese.

‘
No, Sister,’ said the Abbess leaning across her to point out the gateway. ‘St Augustine’s Abbey is being rebuilt as you can see but a vast cathedral is being constructed within the walls of Canterbury. Christ Church Abbey is the abode of our great Archbishop Lanfranc, while the Abbot here at St Augustine’s is called Scotland.’ The Abbess settled back on the driving bench. ‘King William has been good to the Church. He has the greatest respect for men and women of God.’ She smiled at Therese and Therese looked out at the endless throng of stone masons and carpenters about them. ‘I have seen much work done at our abbey in Normandy,’ continued the older nun. ‘They make a wooden structure to build a stone arch.’

‘
But I cannot see anything much from here,’ said Therese, almost standing in her seat, ‘except rubble.’

‘
Sit down, Sister. You will look like one of these mules braying if you stretch yourself like that. Don’t worry; you might get a chance later. There will be grand pillars and decorated arches to see.’

Therese sat straight, remembering her dignity, which she’d lost for a while in the woodlands of Kent. ‘It will be just like home,’ she said.

‘
Just like home,’ agreed the Abbess.

The wagon swung through the gates of Canterbury and through the bustle to the gatehouse of Christ Church. In the courtyard the Abbess checked on the health of Sir Gilbert and found someone to take him to the infirmary. Another servant was found to care for the mules and Sir Gilbert’s horse. The Abbess dismounted from the cart and Therese followed.

‘
Where are we going?’ asked Therese.

‘
I am going directly to obtain an audience with the Archbishop of Canterbury. We need his help.’ The Abbess pulled up her sleeve to reveal Bishop Odon’s ring back on her finger. ‘This will give me the power to open many doors.’

‘
With the greatest respect, Abbess: Why do we need to ask him?’ Therese hopped and skipped to keep up with her superior, who’d suddenly started to stride away.

‘
To get into St Thomas’s.’

‘
But you are the Abbess of St Thomas’s Priory, you can enter there any time you please.’

‘
I am, indeed, the Abbess. But it is not as simple as that.’ She said it in a way that meant she would answer no more questions.

So Therese hastened to follow the Abbess to the visitors’ hall and they were allowed in. The Abbess spoke with the servant who fetched a monk. She spoke to him and he fetched a further monk. Therese flicked her gaze over him and away before he thought her impudent. He was grey-haired and grey-eyed; his stoop was the sort worn by people who’d worked with books for many years and she thought she could smell recently drunk wine on his breath. He told them his name was Brother David. Abbess Eleanor gave him Odon’s ring and explained the urgency of her mission without mentioning any other details. He left by a door at the far end. Some time passed until yet another monk arrived bringing food and drink. This one informed them that there was an unavoidable wait for the great Archbishop Lanfranc and they might as well take sustenance. ‘The water is from a good source here, but you may have ale if you wish,’ he added.

The plain bread and water looked good beyond belief to Therese.

Abbess Eleanor thanked him for the provisions and Therese was eating before the blessing had been given.

‘
Sorry,’ mumbled Therese through the crumbs and the Abbess tilted her head, accepting her apology. The older woman only picked at some of the food and sipped a little of the drink. Therese was concerned at her lack of appetite but said nothing.

The door at the far end opened. They looked up at the shadow in the doorway hoping and yet dreading to see the great Lanfranc, but it was only the grey, stooped monk, Brother David. He came over and held out the ring that had been given to him. The Abbess took it.

‘
Archbishop Lanfranc is unable to see you today,’ he said.

‘
Did you show him the ring?’ asked the Abbess.

‘
Of course I showed him the ring.’

‘
What did he do?’

‘
Abbess, I cannot divulge the words or actions of the Archbishop outside of his chamber, unless he has specifically allowed me to do so.’

‘
This is a matter of urgency. People have already died,’ blurted out Therese.

‘
People die all the time,’ said the monk with a little, condescending, bow.

Abbess Eleanor took her arm saying, ‘We will return.’ She bowed slightly to the monk–who returned the gesture–and took Therese outside. In a hushed whisper she said to her, frowning: ‘You say too much, Sister Therese, and you will endanger us all. I think you already know more than you should. What do you know of people dying?’

‘
There was the knight, who fell from the boat,’ said Therese, but she felt a wobble of guilt in her voice.

‘
That could well have been an accident in the storm, you know that.’

‘
There was Sir Gilbert?’

‘
Sir Gilbert is not dead and with God’s help he will be fully restored in time. Thieves attacked him, nothing more. No sister, I think you know more than the Bishop or I have told you. I can tell you meant something else in there, Sister Therese. Do you know anything I have not told you?’ Abbess Eleanor’s voice rose to anger as she said, ‘You must tell me, Sister Therese, such knowledge can put us all at risk if you let it slip out in the way you did just now.’

‘
But we were talking to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s clerk,’ pleaded Therese.

‘
We must be totally discreet in these matters, and that means we divulge nothing.’

Therese slumped down on the ground and started to cry.

‘
Oh child, I’m sorry. You are exhausted I should not have shouted at you. Two tired people are not a happy combination.’

The girl sniffed and wiped her face on her habit. ‘I know Sister Ursula is dead.’

‘
And how do you know that?’

‘
I overheard you and Bishop Odon de Bayeux speaking to each other before I came in that night at home, in Normandy.’

‘
The old door.’ The Abbess shook her head. ‘I thought I heard something. Sister Miriam was with you, I think?’

Therese said nothing.

‘
There is no point in trying to protect her with silence now. What can I do to her here, in England?’

Therese tilted her head and looked at the Abbess Eleanor’s hands spread over her knees as she crouched next to her. It was an apology as well as an admission.

‘
Did you hear anything else?’ asked the Abbess.

‘
No, Abbess.’

‘
Are you sure?’

‘
Certain.’

‘
Ursula was a Prioress, not just a Sister,’ corrected the Abbess.

Therese noted a loneliness fill her companion as she spoke and she touched her sleeve.

The Abbess laid her hand on hers and said, ‘We need a little walk to calm ourselves I think. Let us go and watch the masons.’

Therese moved the dust about with her sandaled toe. The masons had not let them anywhere near the works and now she found herself in an area of the Anglo-Saxon abbey, which had already been demolished.

‘
Why was this place pulled down?’ asked Therese: it seemed as if it had been grand enough from the remains.

‘
There was a fire,’ said the Abbess sadly and then added: ‘The best stones will have been picked over and used,’ as if she were trying to point out the good things so as to push aside their tiredness. ‘All conquerors make the land their own, Sister Therese. You feel your Anglo-Saxon blood, I fear?’

Therese wanted the unspoken comfort Mother Abbess offered with her soft, kind tones but she felt as if she was slowly being pressed into a different shape. The Norman girl was being squeezed out of her and she didn’t know if there was anything to replace her with. She searched her mind for reason while pawing the ground with her foot. ‘It is not just that Abbess. I cannot deny that I am influenced by the story you told me when we were at sea, but I have come here to serve you as Bishop Odon asked me. Yet how can I hold my counsel, if I do not know what it is all about.’

‘
You are right, Sister Therese. I thought your lack of knowledge would protect you. I have forgotten the ways of the young: the endless curiosity, the sudden movement, the desire to please and the impetuous enthusiasm. It can be a delightful, if dangerous, mix.’

Looking at her intently Therese asked, ‘How did Prioress Ursula die? And you asked me if I knew any more than that Prioress Ursula was dead. So how much more is there to know?’

‘
Oh child,’ said the Abbess with a sigh. She took her hand and led her to a group of flat stones, which had once been the base of a pillar, and sat down. She patted the stone beside her and Therese sat next to her. The grief in the older woman pulled at her. ‘Prioress Ursula was a dear friend,’ continued the Abbess. ‘She taught me English, so I could teach you. In turn I taught her our language. I came over here to learn, so I could teach you the right accent and intonation. Bishop Odon wanted you to speak your own language well.'

Therese thought she saw a movement among the remains of an archway, possibly by the original entrance. She dismissed it as a bird.

‘
They say Prioress Ursula was a traitor,’ continued the Abbess. ‘That is what I cannot bear. She was Anglo-Saxon, but all the nuns at St Thomas’s are. They have been chosen for their ability at needlework. Prioress Ursula was a craftswoman and a woman of integrity. But not even Bishop Odon will believe me.’

‘
Believe what?’ asked Therese, sure that she saw another movement among the ruins, this time some distance from the first – in the area where an altar might once have stood. Therese looked from the first place to the second. She and the Abbess were seated between them.

‘
Believe me, Prioress Ursula would not have tried to destroy the great embroidery.’

‘
Why should they think that she would?’

‘
Because she was there when another woman tried to ink the work. I will call her the Impostor.’

‘
What happened?’ Therese spotted, as she spoke, a movement in the same direction as the first one, by the entrance, but further down the aisle and much closer.

‘
The Prioress and the Impostor fell together from a tower close to the embroidery room. They were covered in ink, which was clearly meant for the embroidery.’

‘
Prioress Ursula might have been trying to stop her,’ said Therese. Now there was a movement close to her second observation, by the altar. Still she could not catch the substance of it. Could it be beasts strayed from their pasture?

‘
The Prioress carries the key to the embroidery room,’ explained the Abbess. She slumped forwards and put her face in her hands. ‘The room was open. So you see, she had to be involved.’

‘
Surely there was an ink bottle, some ink stains in the room, something to show what had happened?’ asked Therese.

‘
I have only heard that the conspirators squabbled and that is how they fell.’

Therese put her arm about the Abbess and looked around for inspiration. She was at a loss as to what to say to her superior in such a state and so far from home. Again a shadow moved in the corner of her vision. This time the movement in the aisle had substance. She thought at first it was a builder come for stone, as the Abbess had said. But his movements were darting and he kept looking at them from behind clumps of staggered stones.