The Nun's Betrothal

by Ida Curtis

  “And did you join the convent to travel the country?” Still cranky, Freda spoke in a chiding voice that carried easily.

  “No, of course not,” Gilda answered. She could tell by the grin on Justin’s face as he turned toward her that he had overheard Freda’s words. “I just think that if we need to travel to do God’s work, we might as well enjoy the country he created.”

  Gilda’s answer was directed at Justin as much as Freda. They seemed to share the view that she didn’t take her vocation seriously.

  Freda shrugged. “In my day, there would be no need for this journey,” she said. “The entire matter would have been handled differently. Charlemagne was a much wiser ruler than his son Louis. He understood human nature. He wasn’t a slave to the dictates of Rome.”

  Gilda knew that Freda was referring to the ease with which marriages had been ended twenty years earlier. Charles was King of the Franks before he became the Holy Roman Emperor and earned the nickname Charlemagne. The Franks often had more than one wife, and Charles didn’t press them to change their ways, even after Pope Leo III crowned him Holy Roman Emperor. But his son Louis was determined to be a truly Christian emperor and uphold the laws of the church, including the sanctity of marriage. As far as he was concerned, when a man and woman married, they became one for life.

  Freda’s view was not uncommon among older nuns, although few voiced their opinion openly. The king and bishops insisted there were only a few cases where a marriage could be annulled. But many Franks, while desiring to be good Christians, were reluctant to accept the church’s dictates on ending marriages.

  “I believe the abbess would advise you to speak carefully, Sister Freda,” Gilda warned in a low voice. She didn’t wish to be disrespectful to the older nun, but they were about to become involved in delicate investigations. It occurred to her that the outspoken Freda might not be the best companion for this task.

  Freda seemed to understand her concern. “Don’t worry about me, Sister Gilda. I hold my tongue,” Freda muttered. “But I speak honestly when I can.”

  Gilda nodded. She felt the same way and was glad to hear anything Freda had to offer on the subject as long as she was discreet. “Have you had any experience with Gunthar, the Bishop of Mainz?”

  Freda checked to see that there was a distance between themselves and Lord Justin before answering in a low voice. “I met him once when I visited my nephew. He’s a monk at a monastery near Mainz. I don’t trust Gunthar. He looks like a toad and acts like a snake.”

  Gilda burst into laughter, then covered her mouth with her hand when Justin turned around to peer back at her. She was still chuckling when he slowed his horse so she’d catch up to him. Freda lifted one eyebrow but didn’t comment.

  “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, Sister Gilda,” Justin said. Actually, he had found her peal of laughter enchanting.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Justin. Nuns do laugh from time to time. Between saying prayers and helping the poor.”

  He grimaced, remembering his words about the duties appropriate for a nun. He had acted like a pompous fool.

  When Gilda saw his expression, she relented. “When are we stopping to eat? I’m starving. I just told Freda that I was hungry enough to eat toads.”

  The stern Freda didn’t exactly laugh, but her lips did turn up slightly.

  Justin wondered how they could find such an expression amusing. “We’ll stop soon. Then tomorrow we’ll cross the mountains,” he replied. “It’s best to do that early in the morning when we’ve more energy. It’s a beautiful ride. There are many long vistas, but it can be tiring for both riders and horses.”

  Gilda could see the tall mountains ahead and felt exhilarated at the prospect of climbing them. There were small, thin clouds that veiled the highest peaks. It wouldn’t be long before the sun would disappear behind them.

  By the time they stopped for the night it was dark, and everyone was tired. Their meager meal was eaten in silence. Gilda and Freda set their blanket rolls side by side, and the men settled down a short distance away.

  By the next morning the weather had changed, and the mountains had vanished under heavy cloud. The women had gone into the bush to refresh themselves while Justin and Leonardo discussed whether it was wise to try crossing in the cloud cover.

  “The weather can be unpredictable this time of year,” Leonardo offered.

  “We aren’t in any hurry, but on the other hand we don’t have provisions for a long delay,” Justin replied, remembering how disappointed Gilda had been with the dried meat and cheese. She did like her food.

  “The main problem is visibility. If it wasn’t for the nuns, I’d say give it a try,” Leonardo said.

  Both men looked up to see Gilda and Freda approaching them. Leonardo flushed, wondering if his words had been overheard.

  Freda made it clear they had heard him by saying, “I think we should give it a try. We aren’t going to be harmed by a bit of rain.”

  “It’s not just a matter of wet clothing,” Justin answered. “The trail can become treacherous when wet.”

  “If you can do it, so can we,” Freda replied. “I was riding a horse before you were born.” The last comment was aimed at Leonardo.

  With a grin that was meant to charm, Leonardo said, “I did notice how well you sit a horse.”

  Freda grinned back, knowing he must have observed how uncomfortable she had been on the thin saddle. “You have a smooth tongue, Leonardo.”

  “You have found him out, Sister Freda,” Justin said. “If we’re going over the mountain today, we should start immediately.” He saw Gilda staring at the food he had been wrapping. “If it hadn’t taken you so long to dress, or pray, or whatever you were doing, you’d have had time to eat breakfast.”

  At the expression of alarm on her face, Justin grinned. “Don’t worry, Gilda, you can eat something while we saddle the horses.”

  Surprised that the sober Justin was displaying a bit of humor, Gilda almost forgot to be thankful that her hunger would at least be somewhat satisfied. She and Freda ate quickly while the men saddled and packed the horses.

  They hadn’t gone far up the steep path when a light rain began to fall. It didn’t do much more than dampen their clothes, and as they continued, the visibility actually improved. Justin was hopeful their luck would hold, but by the time they reached the summit he knew it wasn’t to be. A sudden heavy downpour made the path slippery and forced them to stop for a rest.

  “We’ll have to continue on foot. I’m afraid the horses might slip and be injured.” Justin spoke loudly to be heard over the rain as they began their descent. “Leonardo, Matthew, and I will lead the horses and you can follow,” he said to the women. “Just go slow and be careful.”

  The normally hard-packed trail was slick. As the women tried to follow Justin’s instructions, Gilda saw that Freda was a bit unsteady on her feet. Not for the first time in her life Gilda wished she were taller. She did her best to steady Freda with her hand on her elbow, but it was hard to really help the tall woman, and they soon fell behind the men.

  At a sharp turn in the trail Gilda let go of her hold on Freda, then watched in dismay as the nun lost her footing and began sliding off the slick trail.

  “Wait, wait!” Gilda shouted, as though Freda had any choice. In her rush to catch up, she also lost her footing and slid right past Freda. She didn’t stop sliding until she collided with a tree.

  Freda wasn’t far behind, and Gilda grabbed hold of her arm before she slipped by. Holding Freda pulled Gilda off-balance, and both nuns ended up on the ground against the tree, with Gilda on the bottom of the heap.

  Justin had rushed back up the trail when he heard Gilda shout to Freda. “Damnation,” he muttered when he saw the two women lying entwined against the tree. With all the black clothing, it was hard to tell where one body ended and the other started. “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Help me off Gilda,” Freda said as she lifted her arm toward h
im.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, pulling her upright.

  “Just my dignity. Gilda softened my landing.”

  Once Freda was standing, Justin pulled Gilda to her feet, almost dropping her when she groaned. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I’m fine now,” she said, trying to pull away from him.

  Justin’s grasp tightened. “You’re not fine. Just relax, Gilda. If either one of you is hurt, you’ll delay our journey,” he pointed out impatiently.

  “I’m not hurt,” she muttered. “Just a bit sore where I hit the tree.”

  Leonardo had come to help Freda, and they carefully worked their way up the slope to where Leonardo had tied the horses.

  Although there were no more accidents, they descended the mountain slowly, stopping often to rest. It was dark by the time they reached level ground where the men could put up a shelter. Since the rain gave no sign of letting up, they made up their pallets under cover. Gilda thought of asking for something to eat, but for once she was too tired to make the effort and was soon asleep.

  When Gilda awoke, she found herself face-to-face with a sleeping Justin. She couldn’t remember settling so close beside him, but then she had been the first person to fall asleep. She thought about moving but didn’t want to disturb him. At such close range, she couldn’t help but notice that his dark eyelashes were exceptionally long. She marveled at them for a while, until she was distracted by the gentle purr of his lips. Remembering the feel of his kiss, she became alarmed. What was she doing? When she tried to wiggle herself away, she felt Freda wedged behind her.

  Determined to sit up, Gilda’s hand bumped Justin’s arm, and it came tumbling down on top of her sore hip. She yelped at the sharp pain.

  Justin’s eyes flew open and he stared into her face. He must have noticed the tears in her eyes as she struggled to lift his arm from her hip.

  “Lord, I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking at where his arm had landed. “That’s your sore leg.”

  “I’ve got to get up,” she whispered back.

  They were wedged in the middle of Freda and Leonardo, but Justin managed to put his hands to her back and push her up far enough so she could crawl out of the shelter. He followed her and was happy to find the sun shining. When he saw that Gilda had disappeared, Justin wondered how badly she was hurt.

  He gave Gilda a few minutes on her own before heading for a small stream they had discovered the night before. He found her struggling to brush mud from the damp skirt of her habit. Gilda had taken her head covering off to sleep, and the sun shone on her golden hair. The beautiful sight stopped him in his tracks, and he wondered at the fact that she hadn’t cut her locks.

  Although Gilda didn’t look at him directly, she must have felt his presence. She turned toward the water and pulled on her head covering, pushing her hair out of sight. When all her hair had disappeared, Justin moved toward her again.

  “You’d better let me have a look at your leg, Gilda. I’ve had experience with injuries.” When she shook her head, he added, “Everyone else is still asleep. At least let me put some cold water on it. You’d let a physician tend it, wouldn’t you?”

  “You’re not a physician, and it’s my hip, not my leg. I’ve put a cold cloth on it.”

  Since examining her hip didn’t seem a good idea, Justin let the subject drop. To distract himself he pulled an apple out of his pocket. When he held it out to her, Gilda accepted his gift with a smile. He had been worried about her injury and was pleased she could smile.

  “We’ll arrive at Mainz today,” he remarked. It couldn’t happen soon enough to suit him.

  Gilda nodded and sat to eat her apple. He noticed she was taking small bites, no doubt to make it last longer.

  Justin turned away from her and washed his face in the stream. “We have to be careful how we approach Count Cedric. I don’t believe it would be wise to tell him that Lady Mariel has accused him of trying to kill her. He’ll point out that she is being hysterical.”

  “Of course. Whenever a woman fears her husband, she is being hysterical. I’ve heard that many times before.”

  “I’m not agreeing that’s the case, Gilda,” he reminded her. “He may be expecting us to bring his wife home with us. It might be best if we have a reason why Mariel has remained at the abbey.”

  “We can say Mariel is unwell. Continuing her spiritual retreat will put her at ease. Improve her health.” She tossed away the few seeds that were left of the apple and grinned at him.

  Justin’s eyebrows rose as he watched the apple seeds disappear. “I think he’ll have to accept that. I didn’t know nuns were so good at lying.”

  “I prefer to think of it as stretching the truth. Lady Mariel is on a retreat of sorts. Plus, I didn’t think she looked particularly well. What I want to know is how you are going to handle those messengers.”

  “That really depends on who they are and why they were at the convent. They may not wish it known that we saw them. That will give me some leverage. Leave the matter to me.”

  “Just make sure you deal with it quickly. I don’t care to have my reputation in ruins.”

  “No, we can’t have that,” he commented, sounding as though he didn’t care an apple pip about her reputation. When Gilda scowled at him, he extended his hand to help her up, and this time she accepted it.

  Later that day the five travelers rode over the bridge and through the portal at Mainz. The walled city was bursting with activity as they made their way through the crowded bailey in the direction they had been given to find Count Cedric. While Leonardo, Matthew, and Freda sought refreshment in the great hall, Justin and Gilda climbed the stone steps that led to the count’s quarters. They were ushered into a private chamber to meet Cedric.

  “I bring greetings from King Louis,” Justin said to establish his authority. “May I present Sister Gilda from the Convent of Saint Ives. She joins me in my commission from the king to review your request for an annulment of your marriage, Count Cedric.”

  The count, a handsome man with white hair and an easy smile, rose to meet them. “Welcome to Mainz,” he said, including both Justin and Gilda in his greeting. “I hope your journey was a pleasant one.”

  While Justin and Cedric exchanged pleasantries, Gilda surveyed the elegant chamber. The dark tables and chairs had a high polish, and the tapestries, most of them depicting hunting scenes, were richly colored. Glittering gold candlesticks lit the room with a warm glow. Mariel wasn’t running away to escape cold and dreary living quarters, Gilda decided. As for the count, although he was much older than his wife, he was still a comely man.

  “I am disappointed that you have not returned Lady Mariel to Mainz, Lord Justin. She should be here. We need to settle this matter,” Cedric said.

  Justin replied as he and Gilda had agreed. The count accepted the explanation that Mariel was on an extended retreat and made no further enquiry about her health.

  “I have set aside an apartment of rooms for your party, Lord Justin. You will be shown where they are. Refresh yourselves. It is almost time for vespers and supper. We’ll delay our interview until tomorrow morning. I hope you’ll find your quarters satisfactory.”

  When the count turned to ask a servant to direct them, Gilda whispered to Justin, “Ask him if he sent messengers to the abbey.”

  “Not now,” Justin mouthed.

  “Why not?” Gilda whispered.

  “You heard him. He doesn’t want to talk until morning.”

  Turning back to them, Cedric scowled as he asked, “What’s the nun whispering about?”

  Justin answered before Gilda had a chance to say anything. “We were just wondering about the rest of our party. Could you have someone find them and direct them to our chambers, Lord Cedric?”

  “Of course.” Cedric dismissed them by saying, “I will see you at supper, Lord Justin.”

  To ensure that Gilda would follow him, Justin took her arm in a tight grasp. As the servant led them up a winding
set of stairs, Gilda pulled her arm free and tried not to limp. She was about to complain about his treatment when she spotted a familiar-looking young man coming down the steps. When he caught her eye, he veered off to the right, following a corridor that led away from their path.

  Gilda spoke to the servant who was leading them. “Who lives on this floor?” she asked, pointing to where the young man had disappeared.

  “This is not your level,” he answered. “Your chambers are one floor up.”

  Gilda was about to say that wasn’t what she asked when she caught Justin’s frown. Once in their own suite, she waited until the door closed behind them to turn on him.

  “Are you going to ignore every suggestion or question I have? We are supposed to be working together.”

  “You’re a nun. Nuns are expected to show some reticence. Especially in the company of men. You saw how the count reacted to your whispering.”

  “So, we’re back to how a nun should act. What makes you think you’re an authority on nuns, Lord Justin?”

  He knew he’d made a mistake and quickly changed the subject. “Why did you ask about the lad on the stairs?”

  Remembering her excitement at seeing the young man, Gilda let her question go. “Didn’t you notice? The man on the steps was one of the messengers who came to Saint Ives. If you had asked Count Cedric about them as I suggested, we’d have some idea what he was doing in the private quarters.”

  “Are you sure it was one of the messengers?”

  “Yes, and he took off down the hall to avoid us. I’m sure of it. Did you see the look on his face? He was hoping we didn’t recognize him.”

  “I didn’t see his face. Maybe he was being discreet because he remembered our embrace in the shed.”

  Gilda sat down and put her head in her hands. “I forgot about that. Do you think he’ll tell anyone? My position here will be compromised if he does.”

  Justin sat on the bench beside her. “You’re tired,” he said. He was tempted to put his arm around her to give comfort, but he thought better of it. “I said I’d take care of it, and I will.”