A Mortal Glamour (27 page)

"I have said that from the beginning,” Seur Aungelique insisted.

"And there is also your father to consider. At the first chance, I will personally send a message to him begging that he grant us the right to send you away from us, into the world, where the Devil cannot reach us."

Once again Seur Aungelique had to laugh. “The Devil is here. He is everywhere and you are mad to think otherwise. You should keep bees with Seur Marguerite, not sing the praises of God.” She wriggled out of her shift and held out the torn cloth to Mère Léonie. “See? I cast off the habit the same way, as if it were my shroud."

"You are being foolish,” Mère Léonie remarked with more heat than before. “You do not know what you might lose if you depart. But that is for you to contemplate when you confess, and when you spend hours alone here. Dwell on how much you have offended God. Our Lord hears all prayers. You must not forget that."

Seur Aungelique was examining the bruises on her abdomen. “Do you think that he will make me with child? Do you think his seed grows in me already? Do you think that a child of his get will bruise me as much, kicking in my womb? Do you?"

"If that is what you want, then doubtless it will be what the Devil gives you,” Mère Léonie said harshly, starting away from the door. “You will be confined here until morning. You will come on your hands and knees, naked as you are, to beg a crust of bread and a cup of water from your Sisters, who will be told not to speak to you. That is how it will be until you confess."

"Until I confess?” Seur Aungelique demanded with another burst of derision. “I do not confess anything. I take pride in being as God made me, and I will not defile His handiwork with false repentance. Surely God knew what He was doing when He brought me into the world. If I am to be the plaything of the Devil, it is His plan to make me such. Else why do I resist Him as I do? Well? Have you no answer to that, Mère Léonie?"

The Superior studied Seur Aungelique, her face like a mask of saintly acceptance. “If Our Lord intends you to be an example to the Sisters here, then we must learn from you, I suppose. But that will not change anything I have ordered. You will have to learn to deal with this as best you can."

As the door closed on her, Seur Aungelique called out, “If there is a demon here, if the Devil comes to me, there are no doors strong enough to keep him out, and I will not resist him, you may be sure of that!"

Mère Léonie turned to the two nuns who had stood just out of sight. “Seur Adalin, Seur Morgance, guard her. If she harms herself, let me know of it at once. Otherwise ignore everything you hear. Think of the travail of Our Lord, if you find it difficult to shut out her ravings, but do not let yourselves be tempted by that ... woman!"

The two nuns bowed their heads in submission to Mère Léonie's commands, though both of them already listened to the cries that came from behind the bolted door.

Pierre braced his feet apart and glared at Mère Léonie. “How could this happen? How could you let her ... do such things?” He had been silent for the first part of Mère Léonie's explanation of the latest crisis Seur Aungelique had brought to the convent, but he had become more and more aggravated as the Superior spoke, and finally could contain himself no longer.

"I have little say in the matter,” Mère Léonie said, spreading her hands out to signify her helplessness. “You see that I am unable to stop these ... events, do you not?"

"I see that Aungelique is writhing about like a gaffed fish and screaming like one demented, and you can do nothing but pray!” This outburst shamed him, but once started, he could not hold himself back. “What is wrong with you, woman, that you permitted this to get so far out of hand? Can you answer me? Do you know what her father would do if he saw her? She would be sent to a dungeon and chained to the wall, with the rest of the lunatics, and the Pope would withhold his permission for marriage dispensation for the whole family. They cannot have such a thing to happen to them, not after the Plague and war have brought so many of them low. You know that Aungelique had been his only hope, and now she is making love to the Devil!” He stared hard at her, then looked away quickly, thinking that he did not want to be attracted to the woman again. He had suffered enough from his obsession with her, and now he wished only to have her become less than a child to him.

"What should I do? Should I beat her? You have seen her body, and those dreadful bruises and cuts were left by the Devil, or so she claims."

"Not the Devil. She says it was Thibault Col who came to her, and who will come again.” This was grudgingly said, as if he wanted to dispute everything Mère Léonie revealed.

"The Devil can take many forms, and the demons he sends are as likely to be women as men. Why would they be ugly, Sieur le Duc? Why would they not be comely, in the likeness of those who are good to look upon?"

Pierre stared hard at her again. “God would not allow such treason,” he said, but was dissatisfied with his remark.

"Our Lord...” She stopped, smiling strangely. “Think of the treason that cast Our Lord down into Hell. And he was the most favored of all, was he not? God did not spare him. Why should He spare a vocationless nun?"

There was nothing that Pierre could give to refute Mère Léonie, and it was infuriating for him. He came a few impetuous steps nearer. “I will say this once to you, Mère Léonie, and you had better listen to me. Aungelique's father intends that she will marry, and marry she shall, if she must be tied and gagged like a felon awaiting execution. But if she goes that way to the altar, you will be sent from here to the most remote part of France to say your prayers to rocks and snow. D'Ybert is a vidame and the Pope will listen to him, since his vidames are all that stand between him and the Deviltry of Rome."

If this threat worried Mère Léonie, it was not apparent in her demeanor, which remained tranquil. “You must do as your oaths bind you to do, Sieur le Duc, as I must abide by mine. Our Lord will send me where I am wanted, and it matters not what vidame and Pope do, for they are in the hands of Our Lord, as is everyone in the earth."

Pierre crossed himself and growled an “Amen,” before resuming his argument. “You have a little time, and you had best use it well. When I return for that girl, she must not be clinging to me and reaching for my balls. Is that plain?"

"Of course,” Mère Léonie said with the same calm tone she had used all through their conversation. “And if there is nothing I can do? If she is correct, and she was made wanton, then how do you wish me to treat her? Do you want us to find a village youth to indulge her, to sate her with the lust of his flesh so that she may be sent peaceably to her bridal bed? Or shall we keep her confined and raving? You have only to tell me what you require and it will be done.” She stood up, smoothing her habit. Pierre's eyes followed the paths of her hands over her small breasts and down her lithe body. “What is it you want me to do?"

"By Christ's Nails, I want you to make a reasonable woman out of her!” He folded his arms as if to barricade himself against her. “You are a reasonable woman yourself, Mère Léonie, and that is what I wish you to ... to make Aungelique be."

Mère Léonie regarded him evenly, then made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You wish me to form Seur Aungelique in my image? Best not to let Cardinal Belroche hear of that, or you will have too many questions to answer, Sieur le Duc."

"That was not what I meant!” he muttered, glowering at her.

"Then perhaps you are saying that I should instill a vocation in her, although we are both aware that none exists. You do not know how much trouble she brings to this convent, do you? Or is it that you do not care, so long as she marries as her father requires her to marry?” She waited a moment, then stroke past him toward the door. “You must give me time to pray for guidance. I cannot ask that God protect her if..."

"If she turns away from Him?” Pierre asked, reaching out to take her elbow. “Hear me out, Mère Léonie,” he said, reveling in their closeness and the way his hand pressed her arm through her habit. “There will be no more talk of this Thibault Col. There will be no more lascivious songs and torn shifts. There will be no more laughter and swearing and declarations of ruttings, as she has been doing. I do not care how you effect this change, but Michau d'Ybert and I require it. We will not be satisfied with half-measures."

"Do not touch me,” Mère Léonie said softly, her pale blue eyes boring into his. “If you lay a hand on me again, I will complain of it to the Cardinal and to the Pope, and you will have to answer for it."

The anger he heard in her voice fired the passion that already filled him; his hand closed more tightly. “Do you understand me?"

Mère Léonie raised her other hand, fingers curved so that her short nails became claws. “Release me!"

"Very well.” He was pleased to see how she glared, but he did not like to admit, even to himself, how disquieting he found her ire. “I only wish to impress upon you the magnitude of my concern."

"Those who assault nuns are castrated,” she reminded him icily, stepping back as he released her. “You may leave, Sieur le Duc. And when you come again, there will be other Sisters with me."

Pierre favored her with a mocking bow. “Then I will find another way, ma Mère, for what we must discuss is not to be heard by others. The daughter of Michau d'Ybert is not to be made the object of gossiping nuns. You will receive me when and where I direct, or you will be sent for and brought to her father.” He grinned at her as her chin came up. “Then where would you be, without the Sisters and Père Guibert to protect you?"

"Our Lord protects me,” she responded, her calm deserting her.

"With help from the chirurgeon's knife. Of course.” He wanted to touch her again, to see the flames leap in her eyes. A woman like that, he thought, belonged at some important castle as chatelaine, not here with these terrified women. It pleased him to see her, in his imagination, as the mistress of his fortress, where she would supervise fighting men, as she was meant to do.

"Leave."

"At once,” he complied, turning abruptly and going to the door. “I will be back by mid-summer. See that Aungelique is ready."

"If that is the will of Our Lord, she will be.” Mère Léonie stood straighter than usual, her shoulders squared and her head high. There was no lessening of her rigidity when she heard the courtyard door close and the sound of horses on the flagging. “Seur Odile,” she called out.

"Yes, ma Mère,” came the answer from the adjoining room.

"You heard what le Duc said to me?"

"All of it, ma Mère. He is a ... person who has much need of our prayers.” This last was clearly difficult for her to say, and she almost choked on the good will that was required of her.

"Then pray for him,” Mère Léonie advised her curtly. “Pray that he will not bring more sin upon himself."

"Yes, ma Mère,” Seur Odile answered.

"And pray for Seur Aungelique. We must do that in any case, but now it is of the utmost importance that we bring her into the hands of Our Lord.” She held her rosary tightly in her long, lean hands. “We have reasons to fear the Wrath of God."

This last pronouncement made Seur Odile quiver, and she made the sign of the cross quickly, in case she might have inadvertently exposed herself to the dangers of the demons said to haunt the air where sin had been committed. “She ... may repent. She has begged her bread for four days."

"Without humility,” Mère Léonie reminded the other nun. “She is still in the grip of her demon, and she is proud of it, which compounds her sin."

Although she could not be seen, Seur Odile blushed for shame at her error. “Yes. Naturally. I ... had not considered that."

"You have only to listen to her speak and know that she is as defiant as the fallen angels.” Mère Léonie put down her rosary. “Père Guibert has told me that it is a great risk to all of us, keeping her here."

"Then...” Seur Odile began, finding it difficult to think of the proper thing to say. “There is danger enough in this world, ma Mère. Who are we to venture into more?"

"We are the servants of Our Lord,” Mère Léonie answered at once. “We have dedicated our lives to doing work in His name. If we are tested more, it is that we prove the triumph of faith and the depth of our devotion.” She straightened up. “Tell the others that, if they ask you what they should do."

Seur Odile remembered that Mère Léonie had said something of the same nature when the convent was surrounded by Flagellants, and they had managed to come through that ordeal without ruin. “I will, ma Mère,” she assured the Superior.

"Deo gratias,” Mère Léonie answered. “I must keep my vigil before the altar. Especially now, when I have been tempted to sin."

This last impressed Seur Odile, and she said to Mère Léonie as she withdrew from her presence, “I will think of those temptations that have been sent to me, so that I might know them better and turn from them with a glad heart."

Mère Léonie rewarded her with a trace of a smile. “That would please Our Lord."

"God! Oh, my God!” The scream went through the convent like a winter wind. “What are you doing to me! No, I cannot bear it ... No! Oh ... oh ... oh, do not hurt me again. Don't."

The convent was roused abruptly, and nuns, most of them in their shifts, came hurrying our of their cells, some of them calling for aid, others silent with wonder at what they heard coming from the barred door of Seur Aungelique's cell.

"Thibault! ... Thibault! ... NO!"

Seur Ranegonde crossed herself and the others copied her action. “What do you think?"

"A demon,” Seur Victoire said, not quite certain she was right.

"It must be. A woman like Seur Aungelique, what might she expect?” The words were condemning, but there was more fear than ire in Seur Elvire's face. “Where is Mère Léonie?"

"I...” Seur Philomine looked about. “No, she is not with us."

"She cannot be asleep,” Seur Adalin protested. “She must have heard ... she must have."

"She is ... praying?” Seur Tiennette suggested, her large arms held over her girth. “Was it her hour to keep vigil?"