The House of Shadows

Cranston was trying to placate the rest of the nuns.
    ‘She fell, didn’t she? Edith agreed to meet her there, in her chamber, on the top floor.’
    ‘What was that?’ Cranston turned.
    ‘Young Edith,’ Athelstan repeated, ‘she agreed to meet Mother Veritable in her chamber at the top of the stairs, and when they’d finished talking they came out, didn’t they?’
    Sister Catherine nodded.
    ‘And something happened, didn’t it?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ the nun gabbled. ‘Mother Veritable must have missed her footing. We were in the refectory at the time and heard the scream. Her body bounced down the steps, that’s how Edith described it, her head sliced open. Our infirmarian said she had broken her neck. Edith is now in the guest house, with the two visitors you sent.’
    She led Cranston and Athelstan across the yard. The friar glanced quickly at the pool of blood, the dark red stain, slowly drying, which marked the end of that wicked woman. Inside the guest house they found pale-faced Edith cradling a posset of wine, Benedicta and Cecily sitting either side of her.
    ‘I wish to speak to Brother Athelstan alone,’ Edith called out. The friar nodded at Cranston .
    ‘I’ll stay outside with these two beauties.’ The coroner coughed abruptly as he remembered Sister Catherine. ‘I mean three. Sister, you wouldn’t have some bread and a jug of Bordeaux for a hungry, thirsty coroner?’
    ‘Of course, Sir John.’
    Grabbing the coroner by the arm as if they were long-time friends, Sister Catherine led him out, Cecily, grasping his other arm, tripped cheekily alongside. At the doorway, Benedicta came back. She gripped Athelstan by the shoulder and gave him the kiss of peace on each cheek.
    ‘They say it was an accident, but...’
    Then she was gone. Athelstan sat next to Edith on the bench.
    ‘I came to thank you for what you did. You intimated to Mother Veritable that you wished to join her house.’
    ‘I promised her the world and everything in it,’ Edith replied quietly, ‘and the old bitch preened herself as if she was Queen of the Night. I kept her for as long as I could, Brother. I tolerated her smell, her presence. This woman who, I knew, had a hand in my brother’s death, who certainly was responsible for hunting him like a dog the length and breadth of this City. She assured me of a fine time, of beautiful clothing, jewellery, the favour of the great and good.’ She leaned her head back against the wall. ‘I could tolerate her no more and said she should rejoin her companions. We left my chamber and reached the top of the stairs. Then she tripped.’ Edith turned her head, her sea-grey eyes all innocent. ‘The Lord works in wondrous ways, Brother, his wonders to behold! That’s my confession and all I will ever say. Eye for eye, Brother, tooth for tooth, life for life.’
    Edith sat for a while, eyes half closed as if praying.
    ‘Whatever you think, Brother,’ she whispered, ‘whatever you say, I truly believe that God had decided to call that wicked woman to Him.’
    Athelstan patted her on the shoulder.
    ‘What will be, shall be,’ he murmured, ‘so come, let’s join the rest.’
    They found Sir John in fine fettle, seated at the high table in the refectory, a goblet of claret in one hand, a small manchet loaf in the other. He was busy regaling Benedicta, Cecily and what appeared to be the entire convent with his exploits at Najera in northern Spain . He hardly broke off to greet Athelstan and Edith, but ceremoniously waved them to a seat further down the table. Cranston knew what had truly happened to Mother Veritable but he decided to leave that with Athelstan. As he refilled his goblet, he wryly reflected, before continuing his description of the battle, that the deaths of Rolles and Mother Veritable had saved the City the expense of a hanging. He winked at the friar and continued his graphic description of how the English archers had deployed in a series of wedges to defend themselves. The nuns hung on his every word. Cranston grew suspicious. Athelstan, too, listened attentively, as if he had decided to stay the entire day in the convent. The coroner was about to bring his story to a close when the sound of horses and the jingle of harness echoed through the cavernous, low-beamed refectory, followed shortly by an old porter hobbling in, cane rapping on the paving stones. He breathlessly announced that His Grace, John of Gaunt had arrived!
    Athelstan rose swiftly to his feet