The Nun's Tale by Candace Robb Read Free Book Online Page A

health than when she had first come to St Clement’s. At that time she had been starving herself and her fingernails, pale and bloodless, had peeled away with alarming ease. Prudentia cautiously pushed back Joanna’s upper lip, pressed her teeth. None loose, though one was chipped. Prudentia sighed. Well enough in body.
    She called to her serving girl, Katie, to bring a bowl of scented water and a cloth.
    ‘All the cloths are in the laundry, Dame Prudentia,’ Katie said.
    ‘They must be dry by now. Go and fetch some.’ The infirmaress lifted a corner of the blue shawl, hoping to peel it back from Joanna’s neck without disturbing her.
    The green eyes opened. Dark, almost moss-coloured today. Joanna grabbed Prudentia’s hand. ‘No!’
    ‘Rest easy, child. I mean only to wash your neck and face. Make you comfortable.’
    ‘You must not touch it!’ Joanna sat up, clutching the mantle to her, her eyes wild. ‘This is the Blessed Virgin’s mantle. Did no one tell you?’
    ‘The –’ Prudentia frowned. ‘Is this one of your stories, Joanna?’
    ‘I rose from the dead. Did you not hear? How else might I have done so? She gave it to me.’
    Prudentia did not believe a word of it. ‘The Blessed Virgin Mary gave you her mantle?’
    Joanna nodded. ‘So I might rise and return her milk to St Clement’s.’
    ‘Her milk?’ Prudentia had not heard about this offense. ‘You stole our relic?’
    ‘I have returned it.’ No guilt softened the eyes.
    ‘Selfish girl!’ Prudentia was horrified. ‘What of the pilgrims? What of their prayers at the shrine while the vial was empty? Were their prayers in vain?’
    Joanna sighed. ‘I did not take it all. Even so, I have returned it. Now I may die and rest in peace. So you must not tend me.’
    Not tend her? ‘Nonsense, child.’ Prudentia spoke with a brusqueness she did not feel. Joanna’s eyes were so dark, so intense, her skin so pale, the voice so certain. ‘I am the infirmaress here. It is my duty to nurse you.’
    ‘You must not. I was brought back to return the relic. I have done so. Now I must return to the grave.’
    Prudentia crossed herself and whispered a prayer for patience. ‘Perhaps you would just fold back the mantle so I can wash your neck and face, child.’ She looked round for the girl with the water and cloth. The infirmary door was just closing silently. Lazy child.
    Katie scurried from the infirmary to the garden, where the cloths were spread over the lavender to dry. While gathering some up, she told the laundress what she had heard.
    Dame Isobel spun round, interrupted in mid-sentence by a timid knock on the door. ‘Come in!’
    Dame Alice, the sub-prioress, poked her head in. ‘Reverend Mother, forgive the intrusion, but I pray you come to the infirmary.’
    Isobel did not like the wide-eyed expression on the usually staid sub-prioress. ‘Is Joanna giving you trouble?’
    ‘Not Joanna. The others.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Please, Reverend Mother. It is best that you come at once.’
    Dame Isobel excused herself and hurried out, exasperated. Dame Alice might have waited. Ravenser and Louth were going to the archbishop as soon as they left here. What would they say about such an interruption? But Isobel said nothing, just moved as quickly as her sandalled feet and significant bulk allowed. As Isobel and Alice approached the infirmary door, one of the novices tiptoed out, crossing herself as she closed the door behind her.
    ‘Jocelin, what are you doing away from the kitchen?’ Isobel demanded.
    The novice bowed to Dame Isobel. ‘I took but a moment. Dame Margaret said I might.’ She bowed her head and hurried away before Isobel could ask more.
    Isobel opened the door. Dame Margaret, the cook, knelt beside Joanna’s cot, praying.
    Joanna lay quietly, her eyes closed.
    ‘Dame Margaret! Rise and come with me.’ Isobel turned to the infirmaress. ‘How did this happen? You were to tell no one of Joanna’s presence.’
    ‘I told