“I thought it wrong for him to go without so much as a word of well-wishing from any of us after all the years he’s served us. I wanted to bid him farewell. I-”
Domina Alys, her face beginning to suffuse to its familiar red, thrust up out of her chair. “That was not for you to decide or do, Dame. Did you wish him well?”
“I never spoke to him. He was already gone.”
“Less a fool than you, it seems. And now you’re hoping for mercy, I suppose.”
“Not from you,” Frevisse returned, contempt answering contempt.
“That’s to the good at least,” Domina Alys snapped back, moving aside from her chair to reach behind it and bring out a white birch rod. “Because you’re not going to have it. Kneel, Dame.”
Around her, Frevisse heard the gasps and startled shifting of alarm among the other nuns, but she was suddenly in a great stillness far apart from everyone around her.
Penance by prayers, penance by fasting, penance by vigils-made rigorous or light as the prioress determined was necessary for burdening the body while the soul sought cleansing-that was what followed confession in chapter, that was what had always been the way in St. Frideswide’s. Never whipping.
Whipping was allowed by the Rule but only for the worst of offenses, or when nothing else had worked to turn someone from their sin. Even taken together, Frevisse’s offenses were not that grave, and Domina Alys had planned this when she only knew of one. It was not penance she intended. It was humiliation and the end of Frevisse ever daring to challenge her again.
Frevisse saw that in her fierce, pleased smile, and as she saw it, all the possibility of humiliation fell away from her. Whatever was done to her was going to be done not out of justice but out of Domina Alys’ hatred. A hatred Frevisse had not come even close to guessing at until now. A hatred that, in that moment, she was very near to giving her in return.
It scalded up in her, a sickening roil of black desire to hurt as she was going to be hurt, to humiliate the way she was meant to be humiliated, to savage mind and heart and body, even her own, if it meant she could do as much to Domina Alys.
Beside her, Sister Thomasine, seated unmoving until then, reached out a hand and laid it on her arm.
It was the most light of touches, hardly felt through the layers of cloth, but a sickening sense of the black ugliness she was opening her heart and mind to, a clear sight of the corrosion she was asking for her soul wrenched through Frevisse. And deliberately, cold with seeing hatred’s possibilities inside herself, colder with how near she had come to them, she turned her back on Domina Alys, knelt, and leaned forward over the stool on which she had been sitting, lowered her head until her forehead pressed against the wood, and gripped two of its legs to steady herself against what would be coming, submitting not to Domina Alys but to her own guilt in being so near so deep a sin.
When it was over and Domina Alys stepped back, not breathing hard despite the strength she had put into it, Frevisse straightened, careful of the pain across her back, rose slowly to her feet, turned, and sat down without a sound or betraying expression. Head raised, her hands up either sleeve to hide her fingers gripped into her forearms in compensatory pain, she stared steadily at nothing across the room while Domina Alys, seated in her chair again, the white birch rod laid across her lap and satisfaction plain in her voice, said, “That was for a beginning. You’ll also fast on water and no meat from now to Martinmas, and after that have ale again but still no meat until St. Thomas day, and you will, at the end of chapter meetings and when we leave the refectory after meals and the church after offices, go out first and lie down beside the door until we’ve passed you, giving what judgment on you we please. That you will do from now until I say otherwise.”
Judging by the pleasure in Domina Alys’ tight-lipped smile at her, the saying otherwise would be a very long while coming, but Frevisse bowed her head and said, choking only a little on the words, “Yes, my lady.”
Finally done with her, for the moment, Domina Alys took up the chapter meeting where it had broken off. With the white birch rod still laid across her lap and satisfaction strong in her voice, she asked if there were any other confessions or any accusations to be made this morning. When silence met the question, she nodded and went forward to the obedientiaries’ reports. They were given with almost whispered carefulness, in few words and rapidly. Even when Domina Alys at the end of the cellarer’s report informed Dame Juliana that the warmer winter gowns should be given out today after Tierce, there was no stir of response from anyone, even Sister Amicia.
Frevisse, waiting to be called on in her turn, sat motionless, concentrating on wearing down the pain. It had been only twenty strokes, done with only a birch rod and through the layers of her clothing; there would be only swollen welts, no torn flesh or blood. She tried to concentrate on that, on how little it was compared with what it could have been; but Domina Alys had laid the strokes across one another, not side by side, and the deep, crisscrossing pattern of the pain was almost stronger than Frevisse’s will against it. When time came for her report, she stood up, wary of moving too much, said carefully what needed to be said-that there were supplies enough for now but the guest halls were presently overburdened with guests beyond the ordinary-and was about to sit down when Domina Alys ordered, “Stay up, Dame.”
Frevisse stayed, her gaze fixed to the far wall, while Domina Alys said past her to the others, “Since Dame Frevisse has proven untrustworthy in her duties, her place as hosteler is now Sister Amicia’s.”
Sister Amicia gave a small squeak of excitement, and for once Domina Alys did not subdue her with even a look. Instead she said at Frevisse, “You have these two days, Dame, to show her what she needs to know. You will leave the cloister to do that, but for no other reason and always with her. When the two days are done, you will not leave the cloister again for any reason at all without I say so.”
Frevisse drew her gaze aside from the wall to fix it on Domina Alys’ face, her own face and voice utterly expressionless as she answered, “Yes, my lady.”
Chapter 12
Domina Alys pronounced the blessing that closed the chapter meeting-“Dies et actus nostros in sua pace disponat Dominus omnipotens. Amen.” The almighty Lord order our day and deeds in his peace-without seeming to hear how ill it accorded with the day so far. Frevisse heard but with no urge to laughter. With Domina Alys’ gaze on her, she bowed her head at last, crossed the room in front of everyone else, and went out into the cloister walk where golden light from the risen sun was flowing over the roof’s ridge into the garth. But the warming room was on the cloister’s east side and the walk there was still in shadow, the stones still cold with frost as, with the pain across her back reminding her to make no sudden movement, she eased down to lie with her face to them. The cold went through her clothing into her flesh, and she tried to curb the prideful hope that the other nuns as they filed past her knew her shivering was from the cold, naught else.
She had lain like this before, and so had others of them for one reason or another, but only as a single punishment, not punishment added to punishment, done only once and then ended. She was going to face this eleven times a day from now until Domina Alys tired of it, and she doubted that would be soon.
Striking the offender with a foot in passing was permitted, and Domina Alys, coming first, did so, kicking solidly into her hip, but the blow was sidewise and with only a soft shoe, so there was more intent than hurt in it. No one else touched her. Most of them passed as quickly as they could and as wide from her as might be.