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creases of concentration and worry. Now, at Domina Alys’ demand, she unconsciously drew a breath, let it out as a deep sigh, and stood up to answer. “There’s word… it’s being said… I’ve heard… that Yorkshire had a drier year than we did and…”
    “From who?” Domina Alys demanded.
    “It’s being said… among the servants. It’s talked of… in the village.”
    “And what’s it to us?”
    Dame Juliana blinked, gathered her words, and said in a rush, “There may be wheat for sale there. They’re saying that, too.”
    “I thought,” Domina Alys said warningly, “that you’d told me we have enough to see us through the year.”
    “I did. We did,” Dame Juliana quickly agreed. “But… but…”
    “But now we don’t?” Domina Alys’ lowering voice warned that this was not the answer she wanted to hear.
    Somewhat desperately Dame Juliana said, “We’ve used more… our need has been… greater than we expected.” Because of Sir Reynold and his men, she refrained from adding. Hands clasped to her breast as if in prayer, she forced out, “If we could send someone to Yorkshire… to see about buying wheat there… it would be…”
    “Useless,” Dame Alys said with a darkening look. “Where’s the money for it supposed to come from, for one thing? Not just for buying the wheat, supposing there is any, but for paying to have it brought here. Do we have funds I don’t know of?”
    Dame Juliana did not even try to answer that. She had already dared more than Frevisse would have cared to, and for the second time in hardly a month. Near Michaelmas, when it had still seemed the nunnery would have enough grain for the year but it was plain the village would not, she had hesitantly suggested the nuns might lessen their daily ration of bread, to make their stores last longer so that later they would be able to give to the village. Domina Alys had unhesitantly pointed out, “All that will do is mean we go hungry with them. Where’s the point of that? Our first duty is God’s worship and we can’t do it if we’re ill from hunger. God looks after his own. He made villeins better suited to beans than to wheat bread anyway, and if they haven’t enough, they’ll learn to work the harder next year.”
    She had made it clear she did not want to hear of the matter again, or anything like it. So it was all unexpected that now she smiled instead of going into rage. “But it doesn’t matter whether there’s wheat in Yorkshire or not. I’ve promise from Sir Reynold to see that we have wheat enough and anything else we might lack before he leaves.”
    Frevisse bit back the urge to ask when he purposed to leave and where he would find this sufficiency of food he promised. Everywhere they knew of close to hand had had poor harvests, Yorkshire was a long way off, even if the harvest had been better there, and she had seen no sign that Sir Reynold was well provided with money. So how was he going to keep this promise? And what would happen to them if he failed at it?
    No one asked. Dame Juliana, staring at the floor, sat down without another word.
    The other obedientiaries made brief reports of how matters went with each of their offices, with nothing to disturb their prioress, except from Dame Perpetua as sacristan. With the all-important order and propriety of the church and holy services in her care, she was compelled to make yet another protest against the masons’ noise during the offices, little good though she thought it would do.
    “They’ve been told!” Domina Alys answered. “There’s nothing more to be done about it. Don’t bother me with it again!”
    Goaded by frustration, Dame Perpetua forgot herself so far as to cry out, “But if we only knew how much longer it was going to be!”
    Domina Alys slapped her hands down angrily on her knees. “As long as it takes, Dame! The work is three-quarters done. It can’t be that much longer! Now sit down or you’ll spend the day on your