Chambers of Death by Priscilla Royal Read Free Book Online

women to take on a life they would grow to hate, a loathing that often infected a community like some plague.
    In any case, the decision regarding Mariota’s future must be made soon. Eleanor had hoped the enforced companionship on this trip would allow the young woman to confide in her, and thus the prioress might suggest a clearer path for the girl. With this journey so cursed, however, even that plan had been thwarted, and now the poor child lay sick and in danger of dying.
    Eleanor leaned her head back against the wooden shutter and groaned. How much she needed advice and direction herself!
    On one hand, she had Brother Thomas longing to leave the priory and become a hermit for at least a year. On the other, she had a girl with a fine dowry who might have come to Tyndal with no calling at all.
    She cursed her frailties!
    Instead of granting her monk’s request, she had ordered him to come on this trip where she could see him every day. Rather than sending Mariota home to think about her vocation, she had let her sit with the novices for far too long, hoping she would simply discover a calling.
    “I am a fool,” she muttered. “Greedy, selfish, and imprudent. Have I considered what is best for their souls? Nay, I have only thought of my own desires and the wealth of my priory.” Sighing in frustration, she looked down on the manor land.
    The fields were barren, all crops long harvested and either sold or stored in one of the outer buildings. To the left she could see a road crossing through a pasture, then where it veered abruptly toward the gate to the courtyard. Ruts, dug deep by wagon wheels, had filled with rainwater, making the way treacherous with slippery mud. Her party had been fortunate, Eleanor thought, that none of their horses had fallen or broken a leg last night.
    A movement below and to her right caught her attention, and she cautiously slipped closer to the other side of the window to see more clearly.
    Two people stood together near the thatched and steepled barn. In spite of the vile weather, neither appeared inclined to seek shelter.
    How curious, Eleanor thought.
    One of the pair was a woman, judging by her size and dress. Her robe was brightly colored and stood out against the rain-blackened wood of the barn. The other, a man, was clothed in a duller hue.
    While the prioress watched, the man slid his hands down the woman’s back, tucked them firmly under her buttocks, and pulled her hips against him. She clutched him yet closer, then threw her head back as he began to kiss her neck.
    “And ardently enough to warm any body on such a day,” Eleanor said aloud, surprised at the wanton display.
    Suddenly the couple jumped apart.
    Eleanor followed the direction of their gaze and saw several riders turning down the road toward the manor gate.
    The woman picked up her robe and fled toward a low-roofed building, which the prioress guessed might be the stable. Her companion walked slowly to open the gate, then stood in the road where he waited to greet the lead horseman.
    Gripping the rough stone for balance, Eleanor bent further out of the window. She could just see into the courtyard.
    The rider was dismounting with observable stiffness and the steadying hand of the woman’s companion.
    The bright-robed woman now raced from the shelter of the stable, arms wide to embrace the horseman. “Dearest husband, you are safely returned!”
    Had anyone noticed what she had seen just a moment before? Perhaps the couple had been sufficiently hidden from the view of all but her, Eleanor concluded.
    The horseman apparently had not seen anything untoward. He embraced the woman willingly enough, before slipping his arm around her shoulders and limping out of sight.
    “I wish I had not witnessed that,” Eleanor murmured, sliding out of the window and back into the shadows of the stairway. Giving the shutter a pat as if granting some form of absolution, she left it hanging open and climbed the last couple of