Free The Prioress’ Tale by Tale Prioress'

being annoyed when she did if it led to discomfort. Diverted by how easily her own virtue could slide when she was faced with a cold room when she had hoped for a warm one, Frevisse made her curtsy with the rest as Domina Alys entered and then stood with her eyes down and hands folded in front of her, wishing she were as quiet in her mind as she hoped she outwardly seemed.
    Domina Alys went to stand beside her chair, resting one hand on its high back as she looked them over with a darkly critical eye but saying nothing until Father Henry hurried in. As he took his place beside her, she declared,
“In nomine Patris, et Filü, et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen,” and proceeded to pray—or order—the Holy Spirit to guide and bless what they would do here. Then Father Henry read the chapter of St. Benedict’s Rule designated for the day, first in his uncertain Latin, then again in English, and made his brief commentary on the reading, to the effect that they should obey the holy St. Benedict’s Rule. With Father Henry the obvious was always his strongest point. He was deeply sincere but never profound, and Frevisse, having managed after a long effort to accept that, barely listened to him anymore, thereby saving herself much aggravation.
    He finished, blessed them, and departed, and Sister Emma and Sister Amicia thrust up their hands. Domina Alys’ gaze flicked back and forth between them and then she chose to nod at Sister Amicia, who, eager as arrow from bow, sprang to her feet exclaiming, “About that girl Sir Reynold brought yesterday, was she really—”
    Domina Alys snapped, “That’s not something for discussion now. Sit down.”
    Sister Amicia stood staring, mouth open on her unfinished question.
    “Sit!” Domina Alys ordered.
    Sister Amicia sat, and Domina Alys turned a daunting stare on the rest of them. This was the time for accusations and confessions of faults to be made among the nuns, and disciplines and penances given, but today no one seemed inclined to rouse Domina Alys by either confession of their own faults or accusations against anyone else. There was only an uneasy shifting and silence under Domina Alys’ gaze while she waited for someone to begin; and when it was clear she would not go on with chapter until something had been said, Dame Perpetua ventured to suggest uncertainly that Sister Cecely might have been a little abrupt in answering her yesterday over a matter of a book that had not been put back where it should have been.
    Domina Alys set her glare on Sister Cecely. “Were you abrupt to Dame Perpetua?” she demanded.
    “I—I—I might have been,” Sister Cecely admitted. “Yes.” She tried to sound more certain about it. “Yes, I think I was.”
    “Fifty paternosters on your knees sometime today before Compline,” Domina Alys said. “And mind your tongue better after this. And you,” she added at Dame Perpetua.
    “Don’t be so careful over what’s said to you and not meant or you’ll be doing penance, too.”
    Having established that she was not about to let anyone be innocent of anything, she looked at Dame Juliana and asked, “What have you to say?” to show she was ready to go on to the obedientiaries’ reports. As cellarer, Dame Juliana was supposed to see that the nunnery had all it needed of food and other necessities, and because St. Frideswide’s was small, she served as kitchener as well, with the kitchen and the daily preparing of meals under her supervision. The nunnery’s needs not only from day to day but for the months ahead was her responsibility. Frevisse suspected mat Domina Alys had appointed her to those duties, first, because of Dame Juliana’s unwillingness to impart ill news and then because she was unlikely ever to presume to challenge what Domina Alys chose to tell her about the nunnery’s accounts.
    Unfortunately for Dame Juliana, that did not mean she was easy in her mind over any of it, and of late her formerly serene brow had begun to show the