His approach was to undermine my credibility, then. I regarded him with what I hoped was an equally icy look as the chapter house fell silent. “Would you care to name those offended that I may assure them they have no cause for concern?”
Helenger waved his long hand dismissively. “I am not going to name anyone, but I will say that I fully share those misgivings, and put it to you in front of these witnesses that you are not a fit leader for the convent, and therefore in no position to make any demands.”
A murmur of voices rose again, and I saw heads shaking and disapproving glances cast toward the prior. For the first time, I wondered about his personal popularity among the monks.
I turned to face the tiered seats, and said loudly, so my voice would reach the back rows, “I assure you, Brothers, that we fully respect The Rule in all of the convent’s activities. Sister Jutta had imposed, as was her right, stricter regulations regarding hair and attire than those recommended by the Blessed Benedict. I have a different view in this matter, for I saw that shearing off the hair saddened and subdued the women, and there is no need for that. A religious calling fulfilled with serenity and without needless suffering is more pleasing in God’s eyes.”
I paused, taking stock of my audience. Most of the monks listened with polite attention; only a few, whom I knew to have a sycophantic streak, were eying Helenger, ready to take their cues from him. “Regarding our robes, there is nothing fanciful about them,” I went on. “I wear a simple white one, as you can see, and so do Sisters Elfrid and Gertrude. White is a symbol of innocence—and thus we are like Eve in Paradise before the Fall—and of chastity, which makes it suitable for brides of Christ”—Jutta’s favorite metaphor for our consecrated state—“therefore it cannot be immodest, much less sacrilegious.”
Heads were still nodding in approval when the prior’s voice thundered from the dais. “Under your oversight, the convent has departed from its anchorite ways and become an insult to God and the Church. You will be called to answer for that!”
The accusation sent my blood boiling. I’d had every intention of dealing fairly with the abbey, but if they believed they could continue to exert unlimited control over the convent, they would have a rude awakening. “You seem to forget, Brother Prior”—I eyed him levelly—“that you are not talking to a child oblate anymore. I hold a rank as the head of the convent, and our charter gives me prerogatives which I intend to fully exercise to fulfill our mission.”
The silence was so complete that it seemed nobody dared to breathe. Helenger looked incredulous as he opened his mouth, but no words came out. I saw that despite his anger, there was a calculating glint in his eyes. He was aware that what I had said was true.
“Are you going to build a new convent without the abbey’s permission, then?” Derision distorted his features.
“Of course not,” I scoffed at this weak attempt to ridicule me. Then I smiled in as friendly a way as I could manage in front of him. “Our current size allows me to accept one more novice, and there are dozens of women from wealthy Rhenish families that I can choose from. I assure you the new entrant will come with a sizeable endowment over which—as you well know—I will have full control under the terms of our charter.”
I let the unspoken implication sink in, trying to exude a posture of certainty and defiance, though, in truth, I felt neither. A fifth sister would be a big inconvenience in our already cramped quarters. I also hated having to make this argument, which amounted to blackmail, because it was beneath the dignity of my state, my office, and myself as a person.
Helenger was still gathering his wits when Brother Peter, who had replaced Ignatius as treasurer, spoke up. Peter was relatively young for such a senior post, being only twenty-five, and he was handsome and soft-spoken with an honest, intelligent face.
“Brother Prior, if I may,” he addressed Helenger. “I think we should consider Sister Hildegard’s petition. It is true that there is much interest from women in joining the convent, and little room to accommodate them.” I studied him, wondering if he was concerned with our welfare or merely worried about a source of income drying up, the more so since the expectations for generous gifts from local nobles had not come to fruition, as King Lothair had raised their taxes to refill the empire’s treasury, exhausted after his predecessor’s wars.
The prior turned to Peter, but instead of a fury I had expected, there was an almost anguished look in his eyes. The young monk shifted uneasily under the intensity of his gaze. “I think perhaps we should consult the brethren.” Helenger’s voice sounded strangely subdued, as if he had a hard time filling his lungs with air. “Does anyone have a view on this matter?” He turned back to the monks and cleared his throat. “Brother Hippolytus?”
The monk named Hippolytus rose and pushed the cowl off his head. He wore a stern expression and avoided looking in my direction. During his visits to the infirmary, he had always refused to be treated by me, insisting on speaking only to Brother Wigbert. Now that the infirmarian was incapacitated, he had stopped coming altogether, sending novices to request remedies for his various—and mostly imaginary—ailments.
“I do not like the idea of expanding the convent,” he said unhappily, bringing a satisfied smile to Helenger’s face. “In
