Free Whiter than the Lily by Alys Clare

succeed, Helewise told herself firmly. Quickening her pace, she set off towards the gate and out along the path to the forest.
    Down in the Vale, Ambrose Ryemarsh was still asking for his wife. ‘We wish to pray together for the child we both want so much,’ he kept saying. ‘Also we must both take the waters for they tell me that miracles have happened to those who do so.’ He was becoming increasingly breathless and agitated and Brother Firmin, kind-hearted soul that he was, was worried. Urging Ambrose to sit and rest in the shade and take a few sips of the precious water, he caught the eye of young Brother Augustus.
    ‘Gus, I am concerned about our guest,’ he whispered. ‘Nip up and fetch Sister Euphemia, there’s a good lad. I think she ought to have a look at him.’
    Gus did as he was ordered, showing a considerable amount of tanned and well-muscled leg as he hitched up his robe and ran off up the path to the Abbey. It was not long before he was back, walking now at the infirmarer’s pace and a respectful two paces behind her.
    ‘Where is he?’ Sister Euphemia asked Brother Firmin, who had hurried out from the pilgrims’ shelter to meet her.
    ‘Over there in the shade.’ Brother Firmin pointed to where Ambrose sat with his back to one of theVale’s fine chestnut trees. A small group of monks stood a few paces off, watching the old man with concern; Ambrose’s servant had been left up at the Abbey tending the horses.
    Of the woman, there was no sign.
    ‘What ails him?’ the infirmarer asked.
    ‘He cannot see, his breath is shallow and he complains of pains in his joints,’ Brother Firmin replied. ‘But, worse than that, he is troubled in his mind. He is greatly confused and sometimes he does not seem to know where he is – at one moment he was quite lucid, sipping the holy water and asking about the history of the Vale, then suddenly he opened his eyes wide, told me that his groom had run away and then—’ Brother Firmin broke off in distress. ‘Oh, then, Sister, the poor soul began to weep piteously and cry out aloud for his wife!’
    Sister Euphemia nodded, giving the old monk’s arm a reassuring pat. ‘You were right to send for me, Brother Firmin,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him. And the Abbess herself has gone in search of his wife, so I’m quite sure that the lord Ambrose will soon have his wish.’
    Then, turning all of her formidable concentration on to her patient, she approached Ambrose, sat down on the grass beside him and, taking one of his fretful hands in hers, gently held the cup of water to his lips and encouraged him to drink. Then, her practised and observant eyes studying him, she began quietly to question him.
    * * *
    Helewise’s search of the paths up to and around the forest had met with no success. Galiena was nowhere to be found.
    Hurrying back to the Abbey, she was coming to the reluctant conclusion that quite a lot of her nuns and monks would have to be taken away from their duties and organised into a search party for the wretched girl. She had a swift look around the Abbey to see if Galiena had found herself a quiet corner within its walls in which to sit out the time until she could depart but, again, there was no sign of her.
    Reluctantly Helewise turned for the Vale. She would have to find Brother Saul and instruct him to set about organising the search party. In addition, she realised, she ought to seek out Ambrose Ryemarsh and welcome him with a few well-chosen and reassuring words, which was going to be difficult given that she hadn’t been able to locate his wife.
    Frowning, she set off down the path that led to the Vale.
    She had only gone a few paces when Brother Saul came running after her. Hearing his footsteps, she stopped and waited for him to catch her up.
    ‘Brother Saul?’ she greeted him.
    ‘I was looking for you, my lady,’ he panted. ‘Brother Firmin’s got Sister Euphemia to look after the old man – the lord