Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Instead of the usual dozen or more Sisters that greeted new arrivals, this time there were a mere four, and one of them was the Superior.
Mère Léonie appeared to be haggard and elated at once; her handsome features were sharpened, as if with fasting, and she moved with her accustomed vigor, but not as quickly as before. “Be welcome in the name of Our Lord,” she said as she came up to the wagon. “Things ... have gone poorly here, good Fathers, and many of us are tired from our labors."
"Is it bad, ma Fille?” Père Guibert asked, for once grateful for her strength of character.
"There are times when Our Lord is mightily tried,” she answered, and turned to kneel to the Bishop. “We are honored that one of your station should be willing to come to the aid of such insignificant women as we are."
Évêque Amalrie leaned down from the wagon, extending his hand with his Episcopal ring to her. “It is my responsibility, ma Mère, to serve where God and the Pope send me to magnify the Glory of God.” His bland features were set in a disapproving expression as he permitted her lips to brush the ring.
Padre Bartolimieu got down from the wagon and signaled to the recording monk and the page to prepare steps for Évêque Amalrie. “If the Devil has caused more depravity, then it must be ended at once,” he announced, with a covert look at the Bishop.
"We have striven to keep order here. Our Rule does not permit chastisement with rods, or the most obstinate would have felt them by now,” Mère Léonie said, watching the Bishop preparing to get down.
"And le Duc?” Père Guibert asked. “Are he and his men still here?"
"They are.” Her satisfaction was not entirely disguised from the priests. “Le Duc has said he will remain as long as there is need.” She stepped back to give Évêque Amalrie plenty of room to step down. “With such guards as all these, what will become of the demons?"
"They will be sent to Hell,” Évêque Amalrie said, halting on the second step that had been lowered for him. He had folded his hands under his scapular, refusing the steadying hand that Frère Renaut offered.
"Where they belong,” Padre Bartolimieu seconded him. “And if it is caprice, the Sisters will suffer for it."
"My Sisters have been much put upon already, mon Padre,” Mère Léonie said, and though she averted her eyes, there was a challenge in what she said. “I would not want them to suffer unnecessarily."
"As any Superior would not; it would cast a bad light on her leadership,” Évêque Amalrie declared as he reached the ground. He was not quite as tall as Mère Léonie, and this distressed him. He glared at her. “Pride is the greatest sin of all, ma Fille, even when it is for the honor of one's Order."
Mère Léonie turned toward him. “Pride is a great sin. But protection is not, is it, mon Berger?” She used his pastoral title submissively but deliberately. “We who are given the souls of others into our care must guide them in the Name of Our Lord so that they are not disgraced or maligned."
"There may be demons here,” Évêque Amalrie said in his most disapproving tone.
"And if there are, I must do all that is demanded of me to see that they are routed,” Padre Bartolimieu interrupted, coming along side of the Bishop. “You have fired me with zeal, mon Évêque,” he went on, deliberately ignoring the tug on his sleeve that Père Guibert gave as a warning. “When I thought of returning here, I was faint of heart, but your homilies and lessons as we traveled showed to me the strength of the Church and the wisdom of Cardinal Belroche who sent you, and I have regained my courage from you."
Mère Léonie had signaled to Seur Philomine, who went to the heads of the mules that pulled the wagon. “She will see they are stabled, fed, and watered. Harness and tack should be put in the antechamber to the vestibule. If you need help, Seur Elvire or Seur Tiennette may be asked for it. They are still relatively able to work."
Seur Ranegonde, who had watched all this in awed silence, suddenly dropped to her knees, turning her face up toward Évêque Amalrie. Her thin cheeks were stained with fever and her sunken eyes were glazed to brightness. “Praise God that you are here, to give us your protection,” she said as she seized the Bishop's hand and kissed his ring.
"You overstep yourself, ma Fille,” he said stiffly.
"In another instance, I know that, mon Sieur. I know that you are above me in all things, but for that I look to you to banish the evil that has come here.” She waited, and when there was no further rebuke, went on. “I believe you are the one who will show us how to escape from the clutches of the dreadful thing that has come here. You are graced and advanced, and we must heed you, no matter what foulness has entered our hearts, and in hearing you, we will be saved.” She kissed his ring once more.
"Seur Ranegonde,” Mère Léonie said when she could safely interrupt the frail nun in her outpouring. “You may retire to the chapel to pray until Vespers summons you to join us in our devotions."
Seur Ranegonde lowered her head. “I ... I hasten to obey you, ma Mère,” she whispered, then got awkwardly to her feet and retreated rapidly, rushing almost eagerly into the corridor that led to the chapel.
"Are they all so ... distraught?” Évêque Amalrie asked once Seur Ranegonde was gone.
"Some are affected in different ways,” Mère Léonie answered with unusual caution. “A few do not appear to be under the influence of any demon or derangement of mind. Most, however, have fallen to the spell of ... whatever has cast it.” She looked at Père Guibert. “Since you have been gone, it has been much worse. While you were here, many of the Sisters were able to fight the feeling that this ... thing engenders, but now, well, I have done what I can."
"Ma Fille,” Père Guibert said with genuine concern, “you must not hold yourself to blame. If there are demons here—"
"If there are demons here,” Évêque Amalrie declared loudly, “then it is for us to cast them out, as the Savior cast out demons when He walked among us, for He has given to His Church the rights and powers to work His miracles. If you are simply foolish women, in the toils of the deception natural to your sex, then you will be treated in other ways, but until that is proven, it must be assumed that the Devil has come here to plague you.” This grudging admission was spat out, and Évêque Amalrie pointedly turned away from Mère Léonie to his recording monk, Frère Renaut, saying more easily, “I will begin to hear confessions after Vespers. You will be with me, to write down all that you hear. If we discover any true demonic influence, you must aid me in exorcism."
Frère Renaut bowed his head. “As you wish, mon Évêque."
"You are bound by the rule of the confessional, unless it is revealed that the Devil is at work here, and then it will be required of you to reveal to Cardinal Belroche what you heard and recorded.” He looked back once at Mère Léonie. “If I decide that it is prudent, you will hear confessions with me, ma Fille."
Everyone in the courtyard knew how irregular these orders were, but all of them acquiesced. “If you require that of me, mon Berger, I will accommodate you.” She made another sign to Seur Philomine, who had finished unharnessing the mules from the wagon. “You have heard the words of the Bishop, Seur Philomine, and my answer."
Startled, Seur Philomine looked up. “Yes, ma Mère?"
"Remember what you heard, Seur Philomine, and testify to it, if Cardinal Belroche or Cardinal Seulfleuve demands it.” The smile she gave the priests and Évêque Amalrie was all sweetness. “There. Now we all have made adequate preparation."
Évêque Amalrie's mouth pursed more tightly. “Very wise, ma Fille. You are most circumspect."
"In these times, I must be, if I am to serve Our Lord.” She genuflected to the young Bishop, then rose, indicating the corridor Seur Ranegonde had used. “Will you not enter, good prelates, and give us the benefit of your succor and wisdom?"
"You are insolent, ma Fille,” Évêque Amalrie accused her.
"I? Toward you? What sort of nun would I be if that were so?” She stood aside so that the two priests, the Bishop, the monk and the page could precede her out of the sunlight.
As he put down his earthenware cup, Évêque Amalrie said, “I am shamed, shamed by what I have heard. There is such debauchery and concupiscence among these nuns that it is a discredit to the Church and the Pope that this convent exists.” He rubbed his hands together, then reached for the subtiltie that Seur Tiennette had made for him. He picked one of the juniper berries off it and pressed it between thumb and forefinger so the its sharp scent was released. “I have heard over twenty confessions, each more disgusting than the last."
Père Guibert watched the Bishop carefully. “It is a dreadful thing that these Sisters should be made the victims of demons."
"Made the victim of? Rather invited, if what I have heard is the truth. They revel in their degradation and beg for more.” He licked his lips slowly, then had another draught of the acidic wine made in Saunt-Vitre-lo-Sur.
"That may be the case with Seur Aungelique,” Père Guibert said slowly. “I cannot believe it of the others, who have resisted the demon with all their mights until they have become so worn down and discouraged that they have been subjected to the forces of the Devil in their defeat."
Évêque Amalrie nodded, licking his fingers as he did. “It is well that you defend them, mon Père. You have been their confessor for so long that you may have not seen how much their piety has been replaced by the lasciviousness that marks them now. I heard Seur ... Catant? Yes, that was her name, Catant, who is filled with strictures against her Sisters, reveal that when she has retired for the night, a great, shapeless being like an enormous black bird comes to her and gouges her flesh with his talons before ravishing her with utmost brutality.” He finished his wine, and licked his lips.
"Seur Catant is ... a difficult woman, mon Évêque. She has faced many disappointments in her life and I fear that the convent is one of them. Her father was a scholar of some repute who had taken her with him to Paris and to Genoa while she was a child, and she was used to the company of learned men. Then the Plague came, and she was sent to her aunt in Anjou, who had no use for another girl, and so left her to her own devices. The only man who offered for her was a merchant, and her aunt decided it would be best if she gave one of her own daughters to the merchant instead of her niece. Seur Catant came to the convent shortly after that, and said once that she wished to study. It has not been possible, and she has been at a disadvantage ever since.” He looked at Évêque Amalrie, hoping to see some touch of sympathy in the young man's demeanor. None appeared.
"It is not for women with a true vocation to question what the Order requires of them. It is for the Church to determine how nuns are to spend their days. It is presumptuous and improper for a nun to behave as she has; I am not surprised that the Devil has found her a vessel for his purposes.” The Bishop gave a satisfied smile. “I have not heard all the confessions yet, but when I do, I am certain it will be plain that you were right, and that demons have come here. Cardinal Belroche will be informed, and Frère Renaut will send messages for us as we progress.” He made the sign of the cross over the remains of his meal. “For the time being, we will order the hospice closed, and send warning to the taverns and inns along the way to tell travelers that they must not come here, for there is great danger."
Père Guibert hesitated before he responded to this new order. “If you believe that is best, then..."
Évêque Amalrie nodded again. “And I have told Duc Pierre that it would be best if he and his men-at-arms leave. With the women here so given to the lusts of the flesh, it would be best if there are no more men to tempt them. The men-at-arms are constant lures to them, and we cannot permit the women to indulge themselves in such fancies, for it gives access to the Devil.” He stood up, smiling complacently. “We have much to do here."
"Yes, mon Évêque,” Père Guibert murmured, thinking that although it was contrary to the regular conduct of such an investigation, he had better warn Mère Léonie of Évêque Amalrie's plans.
"I will need to speak to Padre Bartolimieu. An admirable man, though limited, of course. He depends on the leadership of others, which is as it should be, but he is not willing to exercise his own judgment without supervision, which is regrettable. Still, he is preferable to a priest who cannot see the dangers here, and is more devoted to the nuns than to God."
Père Guibert bowed his head in acceptance of his undisguised criticism. “I have done the duty the Church has given me. If I have erred, it is not for lack of faith, but for care of my flock."
"Naturally. But it has made you shortsighted. You have heard the confessions of the nuns and have yet to see how debased they have become. It is because you have spent so long with them that you have not seen for yourself how much they have altered from the good Sisters they were. Now that you have others to guide you, no doubt you will be more alert.” He started toward the door, then paused. “I do not think it would be wise to explain too much to le Duc. You know how the nobility can be: he will want reasons that a soldier may understand and we cannot provide that. He knows the hazards of desire, I would think. That will suffice."
"As you think best, mon Évêque,” Père Guibert said, feeling very tired.
"There are those who would try to leave here as soon as might be, and abandon the nuns to their fate. But they are in need of correction, much in need of it, and the man who can lead them again to the grace of God will have much to recommend him in the Church.” He blessed Père Guibert in a casual way. “Be certain, mon Fils, that I will be thorough in my examination."
"I did not think otherwise, Évêque,” Père Guibert said, not entirely able to hide his disgust of the man.
Évêque Amalrie chose to believe it was the plight of the nuns that caused him to show such an expression. “If it is too repugnant to you, you are excused from the proceedings, Père Guibert."
It was tempting to accept this offer, but he knew if he did that the nuns would be entirely at the mercy of this ambitious and ruthless young man. “No. They have been my responsibility and they continue to be. I will listen to what they say and hear your evaluations."