Sylvia (25 page)

My mind raced. What would I say when they questioned me? How could I tell these two holy men that it was my menstrual blood? Frau Sarah had told me that when it occurs in Jewish women their priest, the rabbi, pronounces a woman during this time as unclean and that the woman must attend a ritual bath she named the
mikvah
. If the Jews thought this time in a woman was unclean then how much more so would a Christian, I reasoned. To admit my parlous state to the two priests was unthinkable.

But to my surprise they did not question me, thinking no doubt that a miracle is a matter for a priest and God and that I was merely His instrument. So it was the instrument they were interested in as they had a duty to perform by informing the bishop and they must be sure that they could well explain my nature.

‘Nicholas says you called the birds from the trees in the woods above the city?' Father Hermann said, then not waiting for my answer turned to Father Paulus. ‘And you spoke of the rooks called from the belltower, did you not, Father?'

‘Aye, it was most remarkable,' the little priest said.

‘Perhaps we should witness this for ourselves?' Father Hermann suggested, looking directly at me. ‘Can you take us to the woods and show us, Sylvia?'

I agreed and once more we climbed the hill to the woods. I asked that they remain still and silent and I demonstrated calling the birds, causing a robin to sit upon Father Hermann's hand and a chaffinch to alight on the shoulder of Father Paulus. I made a cry and the birds surrounding us rose in the usual lovely flutter and departed.

Able to talk, Father Hermann cried in a most excited voice, ‘Remarkable! Glory to God, this is yet another miracle!' He turned to the other priest. ‘What say you, Father Paulus?'

Father Paulus nodded his head and seemed at first speechless, then finally said, ‘I am not a man of visions, signs, portents, auspicious comet happenings in the night skies or even much taken with miracles, but I am this day and yesterday convinced.'

At last I was back on safe ground. ‘Nay! Please! This is not a miracle. As I child I practised every birdsong – it is nothing but the mating calls imitated. The hens must come and cocks cannot resist and must examine the competition of the other cocks and they too come flying in to see if they might match the calling male in courting the hen bird.' The two priests looked at each other and I could see they thought I was talking gibberish.

‘Come, we must return to St Mary's, there is a great deal to do,' Father Paulus said.

‘You must leave these affairs to us, my child,' Father Hermann added gently, placing his hand on my shoulder as we walked down the hill. ‘You must understand, it is up to the Church to decide these things.'

‘Yes, there are a great many documents to prepare for the bishop,' Father Paulus said importantly, and I could not help but feel that he looked forward to creating these.

‘Ah, how fortunate that you are a scribe of high standing
and
a clerk, Father Paulus. I myself was not good at school, a poor student though I could understand the workings of timepieces,' Father Hermann admitted. Then turning to me, he asked, ‘How long is it since you have been to confession, my child?'

‘Never, Father,' I admitted shamefully.

I expected him to show surprise, but he smiled and asked instead, ‘How old are you, Sylvia?'

‘Now almost twelve.'

‘A good time to confess – at twelve you are a woman and I think our Saviour may have some very special task for you.'

‘I have much to confess, Father,' I said.

‘Then come tomorrow and I will hear your confession.' He turned to Father Paulus. ‘After this we will begin to put our case together.'

Father Paulus nodded. ‘I shall write what we have seen today and also yesterday. Will you keep the rose safe?'

Father Hermann answered him as if I wasn't present. ‘Last night after I had talked with the boy I placed it between two pages and put them under a parchment press when the blood was still wet upon the petals. This morning I examined it and the bloodstains have dried on the page and the petals are pressed, the stains show clearly upon them.'

When we reached St Mary's, Father Paulus took leave from us and I asked Father Hermann when I should attend for confession. ‘Immediately after the Angelus tomorrow morning, my child. I do not suppose it will take long. I shall set aside ten minutes from my devotions,' he instructed.

‘Father, I have much to confess, it will take more than ten minutes.'

I thought how I would need to confess the blood on the white cloth. It was the last time I would be permitted to wear white as the Church henceforth forbade it to mature women. To have stained the virgin white of childhood with the red blood of womanhood was a sin. Not only must I confess the blood on the rose but also this, and the prospect filled me with terror.

He smiled. ‘Then however long it takes, but God is generous with those he loves and has set aside for a special purpose, you must not fret too much, Sylvia.'

The following morning I arrived at St Mary's as the Angelus rang and stood outside the church in the bitter cold for some time before entering. Shortly afterwards Father Hermann arrived and bade me take my seat in the confessional, then moments later he entered his side. He left the screen between the two sides open so I could see his face and commenced with a short prayer and then asked me to proceed.

I had decided to make a clean slate of all my sins. Whatever the penance, no matter how hard, I would carry it with great joy knowing my terrible life of deception would finally be over. I would confess everything no matter how difficult this proved to be. My father's wanton abuse, my acceptance of the Miracle of the Gloria when I knew it to be nothing of the sort, the abuse I had hurled at the peasant woman on the road when I had been denied shelter, the gulling of the village folk concerning the banishment of the rats and the Virgin Maid. I would tell him of the incident in the bathhouse with the three whores and how I was not worthy of the name Petticoat Angel. Then finally, I would have to admit for the sake of my immortal soul the true reason for the blood on the rose.

However, this did not turn out to be the usual confession where the priest listens without comment and then at the end pronounces the penance. With each incident Father Hermann made a fairly detailed comment.

With my father's abuse: ‘You poor child, do not fret. If I have heard this incident in confession once I have heard it a thousand times. You are free of sin – God does not blame children for the wrongdoing of their parents.'

With the Miracle of the Gloria: ‘That priest was much too impatient!' he exclaimed. ‘I am sure there is more to this than you claim with your own simple explanation. Those who witnessed what happened saw what you could not see. Demons and devils are everywhere and one had come to rest in thy soul from your father's wantonness. Others saw how it was cast out and the light of heaven descended and the thunder of God's word that followed. I cannot accept thine explanation and do not regard you as having sinned.'

With the peasant woman's abuse: ‘God places the charity of love above all things and when we show it to strangers we are especially blessed. He will be angry at her response to a child in need of shelter. But, nevertheless, you were wrong to abuse her and I will take note of this in pronouncing your penance.'

With the village people: ‘I have witnessed the Miracle of the Birds and think you were gulled by this ratcatcher who claims these extraordinary powers. You said his flute was silent – how may a rat respond to a silent flute? I pronounce you mistaken, my child. The rats following you to the woods was yet another miracle. I see all the signs of God working within you.'

I tried to protest, to tell him this was not so, but he gently pointed out that I was in the confessional and must
only
answer his questions.

The incident at the bathhouse: ‘While our Saviour commands us to turn the other cheek, the good Father John who created the stave for your protection blessed it in holy water and advised that you were to use the dagger if in danger. I have no doubt that the woman who attacked you would have cut your face in a most severe manner. Therefore I must pronounce your actions as both very brave and appropriate to the circumstances. You committed the sin of stubbornness, in that you did not forego your bath. It is a minor sin, my child. As for thy being named the Petticoat Angel, it was in response to your singing and a most pleasing compliment.'

When I reached the confession involving the blood on the rose I began, ‘Father, I must explain the blood on the rose.'

But he bade me be silent. ‘Sylvia, this is not a matter for the confessional. Two priests are involved, one of whom is a noted scribe and clerk and was present when the blood appeared. Both have witnessed the Miracle of the Birds. It may take a while to prepare this matter for examination by the bishop and the archbishop, then beyond to the Ecclesiastical Council in Rome for a decision to be made. This matter will take a great deal of time. I forbid you to talk any further on the subject. Nicholas tells me that already people in the market are talking about the blood on the Virgin's white rose, which is most difficult, as these things are soon taken over by the commonfolk and reinterpreted by means of rumour and hearsay. I am now convinced God is working through you for a higher purpose that we do not yet understand.'

Finally he pronounced my penance. ‘You have sinned in chastising the peasant woman and you sinned with your stubbornness in the bathhouse: you are to say twenty Hail Marys and ask for forgiveness. You may now commence the study and preparations for your first communion and in three months time you may partake of the bread and the wine, the body and the spirit of our blessed Lord.' He smiled. ‘As further penance you are required to sing a solo Gloria after mass. Let us pray.'

Afterwards, as Father Hermann was about to take his leave he stopped and asked, ‘Can you read Latin, Sylvia?'

‘Nay, Father, but I am most anxious to learn.'

He seemed only to hear my denial. ‘How long does it take you to learn a part of the mass, a Gloria?'

‘If it is sung or said twice,' I replied.

‘Then would you this Sunday sing what I have composed,
Summi Regis cor aveto,
the first hymn to the Sacred Heart?' he asked shyly.

‘I would be honoured, Father.'

‘Good, I will make a time for you to rehearse after you have come for your first confirmation lesson.'

The next three months were taken up with learning my catechisms, the Scriptures and duties required for my confirmation. I was greatly excited when the time came for the bishop to accept me into God's Holy Church and so allow me to participate in my first mass. It was for me a most auspicious and exciting occasion as Reinhardt and the girls in Ali Baba's who belonged to the Church of Rome all attended. Afterwards they threw a grand party in my honour with all the courtesans of every nation and religion at Ali Baba's joining in. Master Yap, to our great surprise, supplied the food and drink without a single grumble at the extravagance. In a short speech he said anyone who could make the nightingales sing was truly blessed by God.

It was a momentous afternoon during which there was a great deal of giggling as we, who had attended church, all recognised the bishop as a regular patron at Ali Baba's who was known to have a very funny proclivity. He required honey to be spread on the lips, breasts, stomach and to the one-eyed dragon's cave of the courtesan he chose, whereupon he would proceed to feast upon her, to his ultimate satisfaction.

I did not mention this in my prayers that night, as God must have had a very good reason to create him a bishop, though I couldn't think what this might be.

CHAPTER SIX

Of Whores and Heretics

WITH FEW EXCEPTIONS I grew most fond of the courtesans at Ali Baba's and they of me, and soon I knew a great deal about pleasing a man even though I had never laid my hand upon one in a gesture of pleasuring.

Each had her secrets, the Nubians, the Slavs, Greeks, Egyptians and Chinese as well as all the others, and while they guarded their special talents for male arousal from each other, they told me willingly of their various wiles and the ways and means of pleasing a man. Some men when drunk cannot raise the sword of honour and they told me how this might be done.

Other men are old but have not lost their appetite, yet cannot reach arousal, and they instructed me how such may be truly satisfied and leave with their manliness intact. They showed me how to prolong a young man who pleasures too soon and then how to bring him to frequent pleasure until he cries for mercy so that he may brag to his friends of his achievements and so bring them to taste the courtesan's delights. Demonstrating on a small marrow they taught me how to use my mouth to best effect. How to enchant a man by touching him in various places and how to massage him so that he becomes so soothed and satisfied that he returns another night for this alone.

All this was done with much giggling and laughter so thatI became the most knowledgeable courtesan of all but had yet to bed a man. I learned from the Nubian girls how to assuage the pains a man may have to his back or legs and how to soothe the brow or rub the neck to remove a headache.