The Boy's Tale

The Boy's Tale by Margaret Frazer Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Boy's Tale by Margaret Frazer Read Free Book Online
Authors: Margaret Frazer
trust myself."
     
    Maryon's fingers moved on Frevisse's arm as if counting possibilities in the dark, before she let go and said, "All right. But no one else."
     
    "No one else," Frevisse agreed readily; and wondered how she had come to be—because she had assuredly not meant to be—in conspiracy with Maryon, who of all the people she had met in her life was among the most smoothly deceitful.
     
    Chapter 5
     
    The priory's peace was undisturbed in the night, and the midnight office and the dawn's prayers and then breakfast gave no chance for talk among the nuns. Frevisse, for the sake of sleep and to give her full attendance to prayers in their time, had let yesterday's turmoil go from her mind until the problem of their guests needed to be dealt with again, but all through the nuns' light breakfast of yesterday's bread and a cup of flat ale in the refectory she was increasingly aware that Dame Alys must have used yesterday's recreation time to talk at large about what had happened. Under the overt obedience to the rule of silence, there was a tremble of excitement among the nuns, with many glances exchanged, raised eyebrows, and questioning looks. Changes in daily life were few at St. Frideswide's and excitements fewer. Frevisse knew the most would be made of this one, and they did not even know yet about the wounded man in the guesthouse and all the dead. She was not looking forward to chapter meeting this morning, their daily discussion of nunnery business, when they would all be free to ask questions. But at least through breakfast the Rule's injunction to silence held, for though Domina Edith was of necessity not there, Dame Claire was in her place with her authority and her keen eyes moved from nun to nun, reminding them of their duty to eat and be silent for now.
     
    Breakfast was followed by Mass. Then from the church they went to chapter, following which, in the usual way of things, they would scatter to their morning's duties. These warm summer mornings it was usually a tedium to gather in the room that served as chapter house, to sit about on their stools while one and another piece of business was brought out for discussion, and accusations and admittance of misbehavior among themselves were made and disciplines given. But today most of them bustled briskly along the cloister walk, with Dame Alys nearly treading on Dame Claire's heels.
     
    Frevisse, less eager, came last, in no hurry for what was to come. Ahead of her Sister Thomasine, too, walked at her usual measured pace, head down, hands folded into her opposite sleeves. Frevisse supposed it possible she was unaware there was any particular excitement today at all. Given a chance, Sister Thomasine had the admirable ability to lose herself so deeply in contemplation and prayer that she forgot where she was or what other task she was doing even while she went on doing it. There was almost unanimous agreement throughout the priory that she was on her way to sainthood. Assuredly she was the most devout person Frevisse had ever encountered and, unless Frevisse prayed very hard against her own inclination, also one of the most annoying.
     
    Dame Claire waited outside the door while the nuns filed past her into the room and went to stand before their stools; then waited a little longer for Father Henry, the priory's priest, to come hasting from the vestry to join them. His naturally red face was brighter than usual from his hurry as he strode firmly into the room and took his place beside the prioress's high-backed chair. With everyone now in their places, Dame Claire crossed with her measured, quiet tread to Domina Edith's chair, faced them, and said in her deep, clear voice, "Dominus vobiscum." The Lord be with you.
     
    "Et cum spiritu tuo," they responded. And with your spirit.
     
    At Dame Claire's gesture, they all sat down together in a rustle of skirts and slight scraping of stool legs on the wooden floor but otherwise in scrupulous silence. Dame

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