Page 11 of Sacred Virtues
CHAPTER 9
THEOBALD
Iretreat to the sacristy to divest myself of the service vestments. I feel more comfortable in my simple black habit. Seeing Emmett right there on the front pew had made my heart leap. I don’t like the effect he has on me. All morning I’ve cloistered myself away in the chapel in silent prayer, saying devotions and seeking forgiveness.
Piety, humility, charity, and chastity, the very virtues our order is founded upon. They’re part of the Benedictine rules, and for the last thirty years I’ve had no problem following them. But one glimpse of Emmett’s angelic face and golden hair and my body responds with lust. I managed to get through the service even though my eyes kept darting back to him. It’s far too dangerous to meet him again, even if my body lights up at the very thought of him.
I need to restore discipline and order into my life, so I keep myself busy with abbey admin tasks, refusing to let my mind wander from the work in front of me. I avoid having to return tomy quarters for dinner, and instead decide to join the brothers in the refectory where I take a simple meal of just bread and water—penance for my sins. In recent months, as we’ve received other monks from closed abbeys, the refectory has been crowded, but today, as the monks sit on the benches at the long trestle tables, I see that they seem to have more space. There’s less jostling amongst them for elbow room. Brother Kennard confirms to me what has happened after dinner.
“Twenty brothers have left already,” he says, catching up with me as I walk the cloister. “You didn’t want to be disturbed this morning, so I took the liberty of writing them down for you.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the parchment he proffers and ignoring the sneer in his words that hinted I had more important things to do than praying. I glance at the list of names Kennard has given me. Most of those who have already left are monks who had joined us recently, though I see Brother Godfrey on the list. No doubt without the monastery to look after him, his family will find some other outlet for him.
“Have there been any developments since yesterday, with the commissioner?” His eyes narrow into sharp points and my skin chills. I shake my head to rid myself of the feeling. He can’t know anything, I’m just imagining it. He’s always had a hawklike quality to him.
“We’re no further forward with negotiations.” I choose my words carefully and he harrumphs with displeasure.
“Well, I hope there is something you can do, or I could try if you’d rather...” He gives me a predatory look. Yes, he definitely has a hawkish quality, though I’d always thought they were majestic birds and Brother Kennard is anything but.
“Thank you for the offer, but that won’t be necessary.” I try to sound as reassuring as possible. There’s no way on earth I will let Brother Kennard be alone with Emmett for even a few seconds. Again he grunts and heads off to go back to his own duties, seeing to the education of the novices. I continue walking, trying to decide between signing the abbey over to the king straight away so I can get Emmett off abbey grounds as soon as possible, or delaying it as long as I can to give everyone in my care time to prepare, while not seeing Emmett privately again. I don’t think I can stall him for much longer, maybe a day or two at most. But the one thing I do know is that I can’t be alone in his presence again.
Brother Matthew appears and is a welcome distraction from my thoughts. I smile warmly at him and suggest we walk back to the infirmary together so I can visit the patients and he can give me his report.
“My best guess, given that I don’t know for sure what time we have left, is that there’ll be six souls still in need of care. There are four who I think will be able to leave us within the week. Sadly, I’m almost certain old Jones and the poor man who got crushed by a wagon won’t be with us for more than a few days.”
“That doesn’t sound like too many to try and find a place for,” I say, trying to sound positive. We reach the infirmary, and again Evan and Ethan are visiting their father.
“What about Calvin Brookes?” I ask Brother Matthew.
“I’ve included him in the six, but that’s because I’m being cautious about the timing. Another week or two and I think he’ll be ready to be cared for at home. He’ll make a good recovery as long as he doesn’t do too much too soon.”
“What’s this?” Ethan asks. “Can we take Papa home?”
I take a deep breath. It’s time I broke the news to him if he doesn’t know it already.
“We won’t be able to care for him here much longer. The king wants the abbey lands and everything we have here.”
“I had heard rumblings that something was occurring. Is that what happened to Eynsham last year?” Evan asks, rubbing the back of his head.
“Yes, it seems that very soon there won’t be a monastery left in the whole country at this rate. But it does mean we’ll no longer be able to care for the sick. We are trying to find other arrangements for them.”
“But what about you and the other Brothers?” Ethan asks with concern written across his face.
“I’m sure we will find some way of being useful somewhere,” I reply vaguely and turn to make my rounds. I feel a warmth at his concern, but there’s nothing he can do, and I certainly don’t want his pity. I know there are openings for abbots and priests to join the king’s new Church of England, but I have no stomach for changing faith to save my neck.
I pay particular attention to the two souls who Matthew has predicted won’t be in need of new accommodation, and though neither of them awaken while I’m there, I stand for a few minutes by their bedsides and pray for them.
As I leave the infirmary the bells ring for Compline—evening prayers—and I walk back up to the church, glad of another reminder of our routine. After evening prayers there are a few hours until Vigils at midnight. Whilst the monks will get somesleep, I usually use the time to work, so I head to my office and using Kennard’s list I update the records with the names of the monks who’ve moved on. In truth I’m grateful to them, in so much as it saves me from having to worry about them as well.
As I transcribe the names, the letters start to dance in front of my face and my eyelids feel heavy. I’m going to need to rest a little if I’m going to make it to Vigils. Wary of where Emmett might be, I creep as silently as I can along the corridor to my bedchamber. Once inside, I check thoroughly that it’s empty before locking the door and lying down.
Despite my weariness, rest doesn’t come easy, and I’m awake enough to hear a soft knocking at my door. I ignore it and whoever it is goes away a short while later. When I hear the bells for Vigils I rise, and after checking the passageway outside my door is clear, I leave and make sure I lock my room behind me.
As Vigils finish and the monks take the night stairs to the dormitory, I remain in the church. I retreat to one of the chapels at the end and stay in prayer for a while longer. Behind me at the far end of the church is the stained glass window of the crucifixion. Although it’s dark and I cannot see it, I’ve looked at the window every day for thirty years and I know it well. As I recite the Lord’s Prayer one last time, I feel the weight of its imagery and it gives me the clarity and strength to not put off the inevitable. Tomorrow I will sign the deeds, send Emmett on his way, and make preparations for closure. Having made the decision, I rise and leave the church by the cloister, finally ready to rest.
As I walk the east passage, a figure steps out of the shadows in front of me. I’m not startled as although it is late, it’s not so unusual to see one or two of the senior monks at this time. Clouds drift and moonlight hits the quadrangle, illuminating thecloister enough to show the glimmer of blond hair I’d recognise anywhere.
Emmett.
