Free The Devil's Door by Sharan Newman Page B

as dark as Catherine’s own, and her eyebrows so thick that a lady of the court would have plucked them to almost nothing. Her chin was also firm and decided. All the same, as the niece of the seneschal of the count of Champagne, she could have made a good marriage, had she wanted to. Catherine admired her greatly, but always felt a little bit in awe of someone so completely undistracted by imagination.
    Bietriz smiled. “Emilie tells me that you are concerned about the death of Sister Alys. No, I correct myself, it is her life that troubles you.”
    “Yes,” Catherine said. “She suffered greatly.”
    “It is a mystery why some have lives of so much pain and others, who seem no more deserving, have so little,” Bietriz said sadly. “The Book of Job has never seemed to me to give an adequate answer to this paradox. But I trust that there is one, if only our minds were capable of comprehension.”
    “No doubt, Sister,” Catherine answered. “I understand that you may know something more about the mystery of Countess … of Sister Alys’s family.”
    Bietriz nodded. “Oh, that’s no mystery. We all know her family. She is the child of Gerhard of Quincy’s second wife, Constanza. Constanza is the daughter of Norbert, who was the second son of Hugo, lord of Neuvry. Her brother is Robert, prior of Vauluisant. Constanza’s second husband is a man named Rupert, of no discernible family whatever, as far as I know. I can’t imagine why she chose him.
    “Now, let me think, …”—she was arranging the family on her fingers—“a sister of Constanza married into a family in Flanders that supposedly was involved in the murder of Charles the Good, although they try to keep that quiet. Then, through the marriage of her aunt, she’s related to the …”
    “Wait,” Catherine stopped her. “I can’t remember all of this unless we write it down. Would you do that for me?”
    Bietriz seemed uncomfortable. “I don’t know. It’s terribly worldly. Some might think all this no more than idle gossip. You know that nothing of the world should matter here.”
    “I know that well. And it doesn’t matter here,” Catherine agreed. “But it matters a great deal outside.”
    But Bietriz had already repented her lecture in genealogy. “Then perhaps,” she said, “when you are out there again, you can ask someone who has taken no vow to renounce the world. Family connections no longer exist for me. We are all only one family, equal in the eyes of Our Lord.”
    She strode across the cloister, leaving Catherine and Emilie standing sheepishly at the door to the chapter.
    “Sorry, Catherine,” Emilie said. “I tried. She is right, though. I know you only ask because you were so affected by the countess’s suffering. But she’s dead. You can’t help her. Leave the matter to her family to sort out. I still think Walter of Grancy was responsible.”
    Catherine nodded. There was no point in going into her theories here. Somehow, now that Alys was dead, it seemed even more improper to discuss the cruelty she had endured. Emilie smiled and hugged her.
    “Don’t let this distress you any longer,” she told Catherine. “Alys is free now. And Sunday is Easter; we can all rejoice in that.”
    “That’s true,” Catherine sighed. “And it will be nice to be given two meals a day again.”
    Emilie laughed and agreed. “I need to finish some work in the infirmary this afternoon. Our supply of compound for fever is very low. What will you be doing?”
    “What?” With difficulty, Catherine pulled herself back from her thoughts. Why had Emilie called Alys free? Of the earth, life, temptations? Or was there something more Emilie knew and refused to tell?
    “Daily labor?” Emilie prompted.
    “Oh, yes,” Catherine said firmly. “I’m to go to the hostel and help with the distribution of alms.”
    “That will be good for you,” said Emilie. “I always liked that, especially when there are children. You see, that’s