Free Whiter than the Lily by Alys Clare Page B

her. ‘Help the lord Ambrose to his feet, if you will, and get him up to the infirmary. I’ll go on ahead and prepare a bed for him.’
    As Saul rushed to obey, Helewise caught at his sleeve. ‘Saul?’ she said quietly. ‘Why did you look so startled when the woman, Aebba, said she had been in the church?’
    ‘Oh, I’m sure I was mistaken, my lady, and that’s exactly where she was,’ he said instantly.
    ‘You thought you saw her elsewhere?’
    ‘Aye.’ Again, the puzzled frown. ‘I could have sworn I saw her hurrying away towards the forest.’
    Where Galiena went, Helewise thought, thanking Saul and sending him on to help Ambrose. And, sinceseveral people seem to have known that’s where she ran off to, then it is quite possible that Aebba went to look for her.
    And, frowning just as Saul had done, she wondered why.
    It was some time before Helewise could go over to the infirmary to see how Ambrose was. A delegation of the Abbey’s marshland tenants had arrived while she was in the Vale and she had to see to the receipt and the recording of the money they brought with them as their contribution towards King Richard’s ransom. So preoccupied did she become with the visitors, their questions (‘Will we have to pay more, my lady? Only it’s hard, very hard, on us as are family men to meet these ’ere demands’) and their need to gossip (‘They do say as how ’e won’t be back and that Prince John’ll have to be king!) that she all but forgot about the infirmarer’s new patient.
    Her heart went out to the marshmen. They were the Abbey’s tenants and she, as Abbess, had a fair idea of the circumstances of their lives. In common with everyone else in England, they had already had to give more than they could afford to finance the Lionheart’s crusade. Although Helewise understood why such an expensive campaign had been necessary, a part of her could not help wondering whether knights, lords and kings with the passion and the thrill of holy war filling their heads and hearts ought not to pause just for a moment to wonder if it was all worth it.
    And now King Richard’s dreams of glory had come down to this: he was ignominiously imprisoned and his poor struggling people were going to have to reach into all but empty pockets to ransom him. Looking at the faces of the men standing nervously before her now, she pitied them deeply and would have helped them if she could.
    But she could not.
    She wanted to be able to say that the sum they had delivered today would undoubtedly suffice. She wanted to tell them to go home and work as hard as they could in an attempt to make up what they had been forced to give away. She wanted to reassure them that what they now could put by, from their own increased efforts, would be theirs alone.
    But if she gave those reassurances – which were not hers to give – then what if some further calamity occurred? What if King Richard again called upon his people?
    It was almost unthinkable, but then the unthinkable did sometimes happen.
    When at last she had seen the marshmen on their way, the afternoon was over and it was time for Vespers. As soon as the office was over, she went straight across to the infirmary.
    A harassed young nun in a bloodstained apron bowed to her and, in answer to her query, led her along to the small curtained recess where Ambrose lay. Dismissing the nun – Helewise could see she was desperate to get back to whichever patient’s blood had flowed out so freely all over her stiff linen apron –Helewise drew back the curtain slightly and went into the dimly lit recess.
    There was a delicious, sweet smell on the air – sniffing, Helewise tried to identify it. Then she looked down at the bed. Ambrose lay with his eyes half-closed, an expression of peace on his face.
    For one dreadful heartbeat, Helewise thought he was dead.
    But he must have sensed her presence; opening his eyes, he peered up at her and said, ‘Galiena?’
    She moved quickly forward