The Hunter’s Tale (9 page)

The alders’ afternoon shadows were stretching long across the water and weariness was overtaking merriment when Domina Elisabeth called an end. While the boys set to gathering the fishing gear for going home, the nuns sat on the grassy bank to put on stockings and shoes again before beginning a slow walk back toward the nunnery, a very bedraggled Ursula holding to her mother’s hand and no one’s tired legs able to make haste despite the time for Vespers was nearing. The church’s gray-lead roof showed dully above the orchard’s trees, reminder that the cloister was waiting to close them in again, and as they reached the outer gateway, Frevisse saw Sister Margrett look back across the green fields toward the deeper green of distant trees under the richly blue, high-arching sky, her young face showing a mixture of longing and puzzlement that Frevisse understood. They had taken pleasure in that world today but now were going to shut themselves away from it again, away from all its possibilities—away from the places they would never have chance to go and people they would never have chance to meet.

That was a thing a girl or woman understood when she chose to become a nun, and by the time she came to take her final vows, she understood it even better; but
no
one ever fully understood it until she had lived in it, year around into year after year, knowing it was for all the rest of her life. For a very few, like Sister Thomasine with her desire for nothing except God, the life absorbed them utterly. Others were content enough, accepting where they were and willing to be satisfied with it. Most, alas, were never so easily one way or the other and sometimes old longings would return, whether wanted or not. Frevisse was, mostly, past them herself, but she understood Sister Margrett’s momentary longing. And then Lady Anneys, probably to help Ursula’s dragging feet along, began to sing, swinging her daughter’s hand, “Hand and hand we shall us take, And joy and bliss we shall us make…” And in ones and twos the nuns joined in until they were all singing, some more tunefully than others but with no one’s feet quite so heavy as they had been and Sister Margrett as happily as everyone else, all sign of other longing gone.

They were to the orchard gate when a boy came running along the alleyway from the priory’s foreyard and Dame Juliana said, “It’s Sim from the guesthall. Sim, is there trouble?”

Flushed with hurry and the importance of bearing a message, he said, “There’s a man been waiting this while at the guesthall, my lady. My lady,” he added with a bow to Domina Elisabeth. “Ela said to tell you he’s someone come to see Lady Anneys. Ela said…”

Lady Anneys took a quick step forward, anxiously asking, “One of my sons?”

‘Mistress Ela said to say he’s John Selenger?“ the boy said questioningly.

The mingled hope and worry in Lady Anneys’ face changed to something less easily read. “Yes,” she agreed. “John Selenger. He’s our neighbor’s steward.”

‘You’ll see him?“ Domina Elisabeth asked.

‘I’d best.“ Though by her look she would rather not. Then she added with deliberately lightness, ”He’s probably brought some word from home. That’s all.“

‘Bid Ela see him to the guest parlor,“ Domina Elisabeth told Sim, adding as he made to dart away, ”There’s no need for haste. We’ll be making none.“

Nor did they. Indeed, Domina Elisabeth, having seen everyone through the gate and on their way across the orchard, followed only slowly, somewhat behind them all when Lady Anneys gave Ursula’s hand to Dame Perpetua and fell back to her side to say, “By your leave, my lady?” in a quick, low voice that Frevisse heard only because she was side by side with Dame Claire a little ahead of them.

‘Yes?“ Domina Elisabeth said.

‘May one of your nuns be with me in the parlor while I talk with Master Selenger?“

Domina Elisabeth was quiet a moment, then began, “If you’re afraid of this man…”

‘No,“ Lady Anneys said quickly. ”Not that. I’m not afraid of him. Only I’d rather not… see him alone.“

Frevisse had only time to begin to wonder why not when Domina Elisabeth said, “Dame Frevisse, come here, please you.”

Thus, simply because she had been near when Domina Elisabeth had need of someone, Frevisse went with Lady Anneys—once they were inside again and had washed hands and faces and straightened veils—around the cloister walk with Lady Anneys to the small, bare room near the outer door where nuns met any visitors they might have; and while they went, Lady Anneys said, “This man. This Master Selenger. I’ve nothing against him. But… since my husband’s death he’s… shown interest in me. I don’t want his interest. That’s… why I want someone with me.”

‘Of course,“ Frevisse murmured, readily able to suppose that in all likelihood this Master Selenger was too old or too young or too ill-favored or too obviously intent on Lady Anneys’ dower properties, and that Lady Anneys had yet to find a way to turn him away without giving offense; but when she followed Lady Anneys into the parlor, the man standing there in the middle of the room was neither aged nor ill-favored and his deep bow to them was both graceful and gracious.

That left only the likelihood that he was ambitious rather than amorous, Frevisse thought dryly, as Lady Anneys answered his questioning look with, “It’s hardly suitable I talk alone with a man inside the cloister, Master Selenger.”

Since Lady Anneys was under no vows, that was not true, nor had there been any reason except her own choice for not seeing him in the guesthall, and by his slight frown Frevisse guessed Master Selenger knew as much. But then, very likely, Lady Anneys had known he knew it and this was simply her quiet way of saying she did not want to see him alone while leaving him no choice but to accept that or else to argue with her. He chose to accept it, slightly bowing his head to Frevisse, who bowed hers in return while Lady Anneys asked, “Is everyone well at home? You’ve brought no ill news?”

‘Everyone’s well. There’s no ill news, my lady. Will you sit?“

The room had only a small square table, a bench, and three stools. Master Selenger gestured toward the bench. Lady Anneys refused with a curt shake of her head and insisted, “Everything’s well?”

Her curtness was just barely short of unmannerly but Master Selenger kept his smile and assured her, “Very well, save that Lady Elyn and Lucy don’t go on as well together as they might.”

Lady Anneys gave a tight laugh. “They haven’t gone on well together since Lucy was born. I only insisted she stay with Elyn because she’d trouble her brothers even worse. Has there been any word from the crowner?”

Her change from Elyn and Lucy left Master Selenger behind her. “The crowner?” he repeated blankly, then caught up with, “No, no word. Nothing has been found out.”

‘Nor anyone?“ Lady Anneys said.

‘Nor anyone.“

‘Nor any word when the escheater will come?“

‘No word of that either. There won’t be any trouble over it, whenever it’s held, though.“

‘I’m not supposing there will be. Haven’t you brought me any messages from anyone?“

Master Selenger paused at his answer before finally saying, “I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here.”

Lady Anneys stared at him in surprise and coldly, and said nothing.

Master Selenger ended the uncomfortable silence with, “You could ask me how I come to be here.”

‘I could,“ Lady Anneys answered, cold as her look. ”I presumed you had business this way.“

Master Selenger hesitated, his eyes flickering toward Frevisse still standing in the doorway. She had deliberately taken her “I’m not here” stand beside the doorway, her hands tucked out of sight into her opposite sleeves and her head bowed—though not so far that she could not see, with a little upward look through her lashes, everything happening there. She saw Master Selenger make up his mind and return his gaze to Lady Anneys to say, “My only business this way was with you.”

His directness gave Lady Anneys pause. She might even have wavered, between one heartbeat and another, in her sharpness at him; but if she did, it was for no longer than that and she said, still sharply, “My thanks for letting me know that all’s well and may you fare well on your ride home. Dame Frevisse and I have to ready for Vespers now. God go with you.”

She was drawing back from him, turning toward the door as she spoke. Master Selenger put out a hand to stop her, protesting, “My lady…”

Lady Anneys kept going, repeating more firmly, without looking back, “God go with you, Master Selenger.”

As taken aback by the suddenness as Master Selenger was, Frevisse stepped aside, out of her way. Master Selenger moved as if to follow her out the door but with a quick gathering of her wits Frevisse stepped back into his way and said, “I’ll see you out, sir, if you will.”

He stopped, looking past her with confusion and an edge of understandable anger, but Lady Anneys was already out of sight, heading along the cloister walk toward the room she shared with Ursula; and he gathered himself and answered Frevisse with at least outward good grace over whatever else he was thinking, “If you would be so good, my lady, yes, I’ll go now.”

Frevisse led him in silence to the door to the guesthall yard. Only as she opened it for him did she ask, very mildly, “You’ll stay the night and leave in the morning?”

Gone somewhere in his own thoughts, her question seemed to take him by surprise and he answered with something of Lady Anneys’ sharpness. “What? Yes.” He recovered and said more evenly, “Yes. I suppose so. In the morning. Thank you, my lady,” and went out.

And yet the next morning at Tierce, when he might have been supposed to be well on his way homeward, he was still there.

Frevisse, intent on readying her mind for the Office as the nuns settled into their choir stalls, half to either side, facing each other across the choir, would not have known it except Sister Johane whispered rather too loudly to Sister Amicia, “He’s there again. I told you he would be. Look. He’s watching her.”

A slight clearing of Domina Elisabeth’s throat stopped anything Sister Amicia might have answered, but Frevisse slightly turned her already bowed head and slid her eyes sideways to look past the edge of her veil down the length of the church. The nuns had mentioned among themselves at chapter meeting that neither Lady Anneys nor Ursula had been at Prime or Mass this morning. Frevisse, after supposing to herself that Lady Anneys had probably chosen not to chance meeting Master Selenger again before he left, had forgotten it. Now her careful look told her both Lady Anneys and Ursula were there in the nave, standing not far beyond the choir with the few of the nunnery servants that came now and again to Offices. And that Master Selenger was standing not far behind them.

Domina Elisabeth set the Office firmly on its way by saying in her clear, determined voice,
“Pater noster, qui es in caelis…”
—Our father, you who are in heaven… —and her nuns obediently followed her into the prayer.

Domina Elisabeth took a workmanlike approach to the Offices and every other service due to God and his saints, believing—as nearly as Frevisse could tell—that God and his saints would in return see to the priory’s well-being—fair pay for fair work, as it were—and indeed St. Frideswide’s was prospering compared
to
what it had been; but there were still times when Frevisse greatly missed Domina Edith, prioress when she first entered St. Frideswide’s. For Domina Edith, the Offices’ beauty and passion had been a way to deepen her own and her nuns’ devotion, a way to bring them nearer to God. There had been none of the “I give you thus and you give me so in return” that seemed to be Domina Elisabeth’s way. Instead Domina Edith had tried for as full a giving of herself as was possible, in the hope of growing to be worthy of God’s great love.

Much of what Frevisse understood of nunhood had come from her, but Domina Edith had been dead these twelve years, and at least it could be said that under Domina Elisabeth’s careful governance no one was allowed to scant their prayers. The chant rose,
“Nunc, Sancte, nobis, Spiritus, Unum Patri cum Filio…”
—Now, Holy Spirit, one with the Father, with the Son… —and Frevisse gave her full heed to that and for the while forgot all else, until at the ending
Amen
Domina Elisabeth promptly closed her breviary and rose to her feet.

Her nuns did likewise and, two by two, made procession from the choir and out the church’s side door into the cloister walk in a busy bustle. There Domina Elisabeth briefly blessed them and left them to scatter to whatever tasks they might do in the while before Sext. The day was bright and dry and warm again, and minded to work at her copying, Frevisse went the little way along the walk to the desk she used among the five set endwise there to the church’s wall for the sake of the best light. The half-filled page she had been working on before Tierce was waiting for her, but rather than sitting down, she stood looking back to the church door, waiting to see Lady Anneys come out.

The servants came. And Ursula, led by Malde from the kitchen, whose grip on her hand was just short of an open struggle as Ursula twisted to pull free.

‘Malde,“ Frevisse said. ”What’s the matter?“

Not letting go of Ursula, Malde stopped and started to say something. But Ursula said fiercely past her, still pulling to be loose, “He gave her money and told her to take me away so he could talk to Mother. Mother doesn’t want to talk to him. Let me go.”

She wrenched hard and it might have turned to tussling but Frevisse said, moving toward them, “I’ll see to it, Ursula. Go on with Malde. Malde, I’ll talk with you later about this.”