Valley of Dry Bones by Priscilla Royal Read Free Book Online Page B

talk of its saintly infirmarian and an anchoress as well. Now I have learned that you have a blessed hermit nearby.”
    Eleanor lowered her gaze, hoping to convey modesty while praying she could hide her anger at such thin courtesy and poor flattery. Not that more skillful praise would have fooled her, even though clever phrasing did entertain, but the baron had offended with his insufficiently veiled disdain. Even if she set her own pride aside, a prioress represented the Queen of Heaven in the Order of Fontevraud, and Eleanor would not so easily dismiss the insult to her office. She chose to counter the offence with a cautious and suitable response. Raising her head, she graced him a look of contrived benevolence to match his false smile.
    He had misjudged more than the sharpness of her wits. Although King Edward and his queen favored other Orders, the king’s ancestors had always looked fondly on their Angevin Order, and many were buried in the mother house of Fontevraud Abbey. The king would be displeased should he learn of any insult given to one of its prioresses, and the baron might discover that his alleged status in court had diminished when he returned.
    Baron Otes was a fool.
    She patiently awaited the full revelation of his intent.
    “With so many signs of holiness at Tyndal, I saw possible merit if I offered your priory some gift in return for the nuns’ prayers after my death.” He put a hand to his breast. “As you must know, I am a man whom God has favored with worldly riches.”
    Eleanor felt her interest quicken, then reined it in with caution. Without question, her priory suffered an ongoing need for income to feed the religious and care for the suffering as God demanded. Some in her position cared little what a gift cost in sin if it brought better wine to the priory table. Eleanor was not one of them. She believed some offerings came at a price incompatible with the demands of faith.
    Nonetheless, she was also a practical woman and prepared to offer guarded appreciation. She waited for Otes to tell her all he expected in return for his proposed beneficence.
    “In obedience to our Lord’s command that we perform the charities encompassed in the Seven Comfortable Acts,” he continued, “I thought to give this priory a bit of land. The income from it would provide enough to care for and feed some needy few, but I would also require that the nuns of the priory pray daily for my soul’s swift release from Purgatory.”
    “You are most generous, my lord, and I do thank you for this offer. Most of our nuns are sequestered and spend hours in fervent prayer for souls. A gift of profitable land pays for the fare that sustains them. As for the poor, it is our duty to care for them, and your grant …”
    “Of course, my lady, but another, who must remain anonymous, has also shown interest in this property and has sworn to put the needs of my soul before the feeding of the poor should the crops fail in any particular year.” Once again, his hand went to his breast. “I fear my many sins demand priority.”
    Eleanor stiffened, then decided she could easily devise some plan to continue feeding the poor while also supporting the nuns needed to pray for this man’s spotted soul. “I can promise that our prayers shall be equally devoted to shortening your time in Purgatory.”
    He bowed. “Might you also swear to offer pleas on my behalf in perpetuity to God? That provision was not included by the other interested party.”
    She agreed without hesitation.
    Then he folded his arms, his eyes glittering
    Eleanor was reminded of a snake, basking in the sun.
    “There is one other matter which must be resolved before I grant title of this generous gift to Tyndal Priory.”
    Eleanor silently ran through the usual list of stipulations attached to bequests of this nature and knew she could accept most.
    “You have given refuge to a traitor’s kin.”
    Stunned, she was rendered speechless.
    He stared at her,