I whirled around. “You cannot do that!”
“Yes, I can.”
“Who is going to look after the infirmary?”
“Brother Fabian.”
“The abbot needs care. Brother Fabian cannot be in two places at the same time.” I tried to keep contempt from my voice, but I fear I failed.
“I will have monks take turns at the abbot’s side, and Brother Fabian will check on him from time to time,” Helenger replied dismissively. “What Father Abbot needs is not your potions, but prayer, and that we can provide day and night.” He smirked, clearly enjoying my distress.
As I stood there helplessly, he turned and opened the door, beckoning to someone waiting outside. Brother Fabian entered, looking miserable. I felt sorry for him, but also for myself and for my women.
“You can go now,” Helenger said to me, stepping aside and pushing poor Fabian out of his way.
I walked to the door with as much dignity as I could muster but stopped before crossing the threshold. “Boil fennel seeds and add them to the tonic I have been making,” I urged Fabian. I had just been thinking that fennel, a herb of wide-ranging curative properties, was worth trying. “Give it to him three times a day—”
“Go!” Helenger hissed behind me.
I ignored him. “Make sure there is always fresh water in the jug, and he is given to drink regularly—”
“Sister Hildegard, you will listen to me!”
“And do not bleed him under any circumstances! He has already lost a lot of vital humor,” I added, knowing that Helenger would not physically push me out. He would never touch a woman.
Fabian nodded, though he could not help glancing fearfully at Helenger. It occurred to me that the moment I was gone, the prior might forbid my assistant from carrying out my dispositions. But I was powerless to do anything about it.
As I stepped out of the abbot’s house—perhaps for the last time in my life—I knew that my fate truly was in God’s hands.
For ten days, I had no news. We were shut off completely from the world. Even the servants who brought our food were forbidden to speak to us and only looked down when I pressed them for information about the abbot’s health. Those were the days of despair like I had never known.
On the tenth day, I was summoned to the abbot’s house. As I crossed the courtyard, my legs were so weak I was afraid I would not make it, even though the May morning was fresh and sunny. My mind had gone blank, or rather there was only one thought in it, and that was that I had no idea who the current occupant of that house was. If it was Helenger, everything was over.
I stopped before the door and for a long moment could not gather the courage to open it. The fact that it was completely quiet inside made it even more difficult. All at once I pictured Helenger sitting at the desk, eyes trained on the door, a rapacious grin distorting his lips. The image made me so dizzy I had to lean my forehead on the door and close my eyes to stop the world from spinning.
I pushed the door and stepped inside. For the space of a few breaths, I could not see anything as my eyes adjusted to the dim interior from the bright day outside. Then the occupant’s silhouette became more distinct and my heart sank—the man was tall and lean, so not Kuno.
He stood with his back to the door, gazing out the arched window over the graveyard and the vineyards, greening now with new leaves, something which had always thrilled me but now I barely even noticed. He turned slowly, and as he faced me, my eyes widened.
“Sister.” He inclined his head.
“Brother Peter.” My head swam in a chaos of relief, surprise, and puzzlement at seeing the treasurer in front of me. Did that mean Kuno had died and he had been elected in his place? That would have been a development I had not expected. “Or should I say Abbot Peter?”
He smiled briefly, a pleasant and modest smile, before his features became serious again. “Oh no, I am only acting on Abbot Kuno’s orders.”
Relief washed over me again, fully this time. He was alive! “I take it the crisis is over?”
“It is, but he is still very weak.” Peter pointed with his chin toward the door leading to the bedchamber. “He sleeps most of the day.”
“I see.”
“I wanted to speak with you to let you know that last night he reversed Prior Helenger’s decision regarding your removal from the infirmary. You may resume your duties.”
I inclined my head in grateful acknowledgement. I wanted to know what Kuno had thought about Helenger usurping his power in eager anticipation of his demise, and if he was going to keep him as prior or replace him with someone worthier, like Peter, but I thought it prudent not to ask any of this. I would find out in time. “This is a happy development indeed, Brother,” I said. “I look forward to returning to serve my patients.”
“Your patients have been asking for you, and they will be glad to see you back, but . . . you should know that the prior has sent Angmar home.”
I gasped. “He did not!” She was not ready yet; she still needed care.
“I’m afraid he did, without even bothering to summon her brother.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “He hired two men from the town to escort her to Brauweiler.”
I gazed around in disbelief as if there were someone else there who could dispute what I had just heard. But it was true, of course. It was entirely in line with Helenger’s character.
“Thank you for letting me know.” I took a steadying breath. “I am only glad I heard this from you and not from him.”
“Welcome back, Sister.”
Thus I had narrowly avoided
