A Play of Piety (20 page)

Joliffe heard Idany returning and shifted out of her way. Idany, ignoring him, hurried past, exclaiming, “He’s here! Master Hewstere is come!”

Not far behind her, Master Hewstere strode in, ignoring Joliffe as thoroughly as Idany had, and instantly demanded at Sister Letice, “What are you giving her?”

Sister Letice startled back, her face reddening, but Sister Ursula said firmly at him, “Horehound and honey in warmed wine. What you’ve always said is safe for a troubled belly.”

Master Hewstere granted ungraciously, “That’s well enough.” And then to Mistress Thorncoffyn, suddenly smooth with persuasion, “You’d do well to drink it, my lady. Here.” He took the cup from Sister Letice. “Gently now.” Obedient to him, Mistress Thorncoffyn drank.

Joliffe suddenly wondered where her dogs were, why they weren’t underfoot and yapping, then saw them in a huddled heap against the pillows at the head of the bed, all curled and tucked around each other, with here and there a bright and watching eye fixed on their mistress. No fools they, getting themselves safely out of the way but still able to see everything that went on with their mistress, he thought.

“A vomitive first,” Master Hewstere was saying with firm authority. “Then perhaps a purgative, to completely cleanse.”

Joliffe decided the dogs had the right of it: safely out of the way was what he wanted to be, too, and he quickly withdrew, hoping as he went that he would not later be called back to help with the outcomes of what Master Hewstere purposed. Cowardly desire or not, he was not in the least ashamed of it.

In the kitchen, he found Sister Margaret readying to make the men’s evening drink. “On the chance Sister Letice isn’t freed in time,” she said. “It’s to be stronger again tonight, to help after today’s upsets. Has Master Hewstere come?”

“He’s there now.”

“Then likely Sister Letice and Sister Ursula won’t be wanted much longer. Sister Petronilla is in the scullery, seeing to the bowls and cups.”

Joliffe went to take her place and found that with Daveth’s help and despite Heinrich sitting on the floor between her feet, she was well along toward being done. He thanked her, she welcomed him with her ready smile, dried her hands on her apron, scooped up Heinrich, took Daveth by the hand, and left, to see about putting them both to bed. Setting to scrubbing, Joliffe briefly wondered how it would be when Heinrich was too big to scoop up and carry.

He finished what little was left to do and returned to the kitchen where Sister Ursula was standing with two of the pottery jars from the stillroom in her hand, asking Sister Margaret, “But both a vomitive and a purgative? Is that wise, do you think?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Sister Margaret said with suspicious sweetness. She took up the pitcher and began to pour the men’s herbed ale into cups already set out on the tray on the table there. “I’m sure Master Hewstere will do what’s for the best for her.”

“What’s ‘for the best for her’ will likely mean a hellish night for Sister Letice and me,” Sister Ursula pointed out. “And for Geoffrey,” she added, noticeably more cheerfully. “His loving grandmother is keeping him right there beside her, grabbing hold on him when the pains are worse. He’ll have bruises by morning.”

Sister Letice hurried in. “Couldn’t you find—” She broke off, seeing the jars Sister Ursula held, exclaimed, “Those are the ones, yes,” seized them, and hurried out again.

“These are ready,” Sister Margaret said, setting down the pitcher, the cups filled, and for a little time the evening went its usual way, with Joliffe carrying the tray for Sister Ursula and Sister Margaret to give the men their drinks, helping the men to settle for the night, making sure they were all as comfortable as might be and in need of nothing. Only Aylton resisted the sleeping draught, refusing to uncurl or even open his eyes. “Later. Leave it,” he muttered.

“It will ease the pain and help you to sleep,” Sister Ursula urged gently, bending over him. “Drink now, while I’m here to help you.” She leaned closer, as if waiting for an answer. None came, or if it did, it was muttered too low for Joliffe to hear, and was refusal, because Sister Ursula straightened, set the cup on the small table beside the bed, said, “It’s here if you want it,” and came away.

The day should have been done then, but there was still Mistress Thorncoffyn. As Joliffe and the sisters left the hall, Sister Letice came from the kitchen carrying a large basin of steaming water. To Sister Margaret’s question of how Mistress Thorncoffyn did, she said, “The vomitive has worked. Master Hewstere is going to bleed her next. Then will come a purgative, he says. Thank you,” she added to Joliffe as he took the basin from her, finding it as heavy as it looked. Then to Sister Ursula she said, “He wants you there now, but I’m dismissed, I’m afraid. I questioned the dose of purgative Master Hewstere means to give her. He said I was overly bold and foolish into the bargain to question anything he did.”

Sister Ursula sighed. “It’s assuredly not you who is the fool. Since I doubt Sister Margaret would be welcomed more than you, best you go and tell Sister Petronilla of her misfortune. Sister Margaret, go to bed.”

Sister Margaret went away toward the bed in the pantry, her place for tonight. Joliffe had a belated fear that by carrying the basin he had opened himself to having to help clean Mistress Thorncoffyn and was relieved when that martyrdom was not asked of him, when at the outer door of Mistress Thorncoffyn’s rooms, as Sister Letice went on to the stairs up to the dorter, Sister Ursula took the basin from him, thanked him, and told him he had best take this chance to have what sleep he could, should the men prove restless despite all that had been done to give them a quiet night. He thanked her in return and willingly went to do as she bid.

 

 

Either the stronger nighttime drinks served their purpose, or else the day’s excitements had tired the men enough to ensure they all slept deeply. No one needed Joliffe until just at dawn, when Deke Credy needed help with his bed-pot. That tended to, and with stirrings in other beds along the hall, and the certainty that Sister Margaret would be up from the pallet in the pantry soon and the other sisters down from their dorter—supposing Sister Ursula and Sister Petronilla had eventually got to their beds—Joliffe put aside thought of returning to his own bed. Instead, he went to see how Aylton did.

The bed was empty.

Joliffe stood staring at it, momentarily bemused to see only the pillow, rumpled sheets, and a blanket where there should have been a man. Then he bent and looked
under
the bed because the man had to be
somewhere
.

There was only the bed-pot and a crumpled heap of cloth that were the bandages of Aylton’s poultices.

Out of sight beyond the curtain to the right, Basset whispered, “How does he?”

Joliffe stepped sideways and to Basset’s side before answering softly, “He’s not there.”

The hall was still in gray shadow, morning light not yet falling through the high windows; Joliffe could not see Basset’s face clearly but the pause then was as blank-minded as his own had been, until Basset said, “He’s gone?”

“He’s not there, only his bandages. I’d call that gone. So are his clothes.” That had been laid on the stool beside the bed. “You didn’t hear him leave?”

“I slept soundly all the night, heard nothing. How could he leave?”

“Very slowly?” A pain-huddled shuffle was the most Joliffe could see Aylton able to do after yesterday’s beating.

“You’re sure he’s gone?”

“Well, he’s gone from bed. How
far
he’s gone is another matter.”

“As far as he can get from Mistress Thorncoffyn would be my guess.”

Joliffe shrugged in silent agreement with that and went to see if Aylton had maybe collapsed somewhere between the hall and the outer gateway. He had not, and since the bar was still across the gate, no one had gone out that way unless they had asked Jack’s help, which Jack was unlikely to have given to an injured man in need of care. To be thorough, though, Joliffe unbarred and opened the gate enough to put his head out to look both ways along the road. Out here there was daylight enough—and more by the moment as sunrise neared—that if someone had been lying on the road, he could have seen them, but he saw no one. That Aylton might have fallen into the ditch along the sides called for more of a search than he was ready to make, and he pulled his head back in, barred the gate again, and went to tell the sisters they had lost one of their patients.

He found all of them in the kitchen, setting about breaking their fast. Sister Margaret looked the better for what must have been a full night’s sleep like Joliffe’s, but Sister Ursula’s and Sister Petronilla’s gray-shadowed eyes and slumped shoulders told their night had been very otherwise.

“It went on for hours,” Sister Ursula was saying. “Whatever it was, it was terrible. First there was the vomiting. It started even before Master Hewstere dosed her. Then he set her to purging. That wracked her so violently that Master Hewstere couldn’t bleed her until well toward morning, when she was finally able to lie quietly for a while.”

“It never came to sending for Father Richard, though,” Sister Petronilla said with an escaping yawn she only barely covered in time.

“Thanks be to the Virgin and Saint Giles for that,” Sister Ursula said wearily.

“And Master Hewstere,” Sister Petronilla said around the end of her yawn.

“And him,” Sister Ursula agreed. “Whatever it was he fetched from his house made the difference at the end, I think.”

“What was it?” Sister Margaret asked, with more interest in that than she had shown for whether or not her erstwhile mother-in-law survived.

Both women shook their heads that they did not know. “I’ll ask later,” Sister Ursula promised. “Sister Letice, I think I took the last of the mint from the stillroom last night. Master Hewstere needed it to mix with honey to settle her stomach.”

“Um.” Nodding, Sister Letice swallowed a mouthful of bread and started to draw back from the table as if more than willing to go to the garden on the instant. “I’ll get more now, to have it ready at need.”

“There’s something else,” Joliffe put in. “Aylton is gone.”

Four sets of startled eyes widened toward him. “Have you looked for him?” Sister Margaret demanded. “He’s hardly fit to go far.”

“I only just found his bed empty. I’ve only looked to the foreyard yet.”

“Poor man,” Sister Letice said. “To be that afraid to stay that’s he’s dragged himself away.”

But she was already done with her surprise and went on out the door while Sister Ursula was saying to the others, “He has reason enough to be afraid. Mistress Thorncoffyn means to have the sheriff on him. That will be gaol at the very least.”

Sister Margaret, having paused with one hand on the loaf the sisters were sharing, her other hand poised with the breadknife over it, went back to slicing as she said, “I don’t see why we should trouble ourselves to look for him, though. We’ve all duties enough.”

A moment of considering silence met that suggestion before Sister Ursula said, “Yes. Master Aylton is no concern of ours now he’s out of our care. He’s a matter for the Thorncoffyns to pursue or not, as they choose. Too, with him gone, it means we can send word to Agnes Kemp that she can bring her grandfather today after all.”

From earlier talk, Joliffe knew this Agnes was someone who had been wearing out herself in care of her increasingly decayed grandfather while trying to help her husband in the fields and tend to three children. She had been promised her grandfather would have the next bed that came empty; the only reason he had not been in it yesterday was he had refused “another man’s bed before the fellow is fully cold in his grave,” as one of her sons had come to tell Sister Ursula. He might have had to wait longer because of Aylton, so Aylton’s flight was to the good there, whatever stir the Thorncoffyns might make because of it.

Idany came into the kitchen, for once without her usual thrusting haste. She looked even wearier than the sisters, with her headkerchief limp and her apron stained in ways Joliffe took care not to see too closely. Her tongue was uncurbed, though. With almost her usual sharpness, she demanded, “My lady wants a warm posset.”

“Has Master Hewstere advised she eat yet?” Sister Ursula asked wearily.

“He hasn’t come yet this morning. It doesn’t matter. She wants it. It’s
you
who must make it, mind.” Her baleful sideways look at Sister Margaret, making clear who was not to touch it, was interrupted by Sister Letice and Rose coming in, in such a rush together that everyone turned toward them, beginning to be alarmed even before Sister Letice exclaimed, “It’s Master Aylton!” and Rose cried out, “He’s dead!”

Chapter 16

E
veryone stared at them, startled beyond words or moving until Sister Ursula demanded, “He’s dead? You’re sure of that?”

Both women, short of breath, jerked their heads in assurance. Rose sank down on the bench beside the table, but Sister Letice gathered breath and said, “He was in the stream. He was lying there, his head in the water. I pulled him out and turned him over and he’s dead, yes.”

With open satisfaction, Idany declared, “He must have tried to slip away in the night, only he hadn’t the strength for it and collapsed into the stream instead and drowned. As served him right, the thieving coward,” she ended viciously.

Sister Margaret, as harshly and with something of the same satisfaction, said back at her, “That makes Mistress Thorncoffyn guilty of manslaughter, doesn’t it?”

The satisfaction disappeared from Idany’s face. She gaped at Sister Margaret, then whirled away and hurried from the kitchen. Behind her, the sisters were already steadying out of their first sharp surprise. Death was too familiar a matter here, was something to be dealt with, not exclaimed at, and Sister Ursula said, “She’ll see to telling Mistress Thorncoffyn and Geoffrey. Joliffe, you must find the bailiff. He’s John Borton. His house is on the right just the other side of the marketplace as you go into town. By now he may be gone to the fields, but someone will know where he is. He’ll send someone for the constable and crowner.”