She was somewhat quieter in her mind when time came for Vespers and she was released.
She asked and was given permission to leave supper early, to go be sure that all was ready for the play before Domina Edith and the others came. The day’s early dark was gathering in as she crossed the yard, and the cold deepening with it. Frevisse hurried past two menservants struggling to carry Domina Edith’s second-best chair toward the guesthall. She must see to a chair for Montfort’s comfort, too. It would be better to keep him as unoffended as possible just now.
Inside the guesthall everything was ready. A few of the priory’s servants had slipped away early from their tasks and were standing along one wall, eyeing the players’ curtains and talking cheerfully among themselves. They fell silent when she came in but she merely nodded to them and surveyed the hall, ignoring them, and they went back to their talking. The lanterns were waiting to be lighted on either side of the playing area. In the shadowy hall all sign of the players’ belongings were gone except for their curtained poles. The players themselves were nowhere to be seen, but sounds of them came from behind the curtain and, satisfied that everything was ready, Frevisse turned to direct the men where to set Domina Edith’s chair, sent them to the new guesthall to fetch one for the crowner, told another servant to light the candles, and decided to go herself to tell Montfort in courtesy that Domina Edith would be coming soon.
He received the message with satisfaction. “Good. Good. A fit diversion for the holidays and certainly not expected here. I’ll come directly.”
The nuns were just coming out the cloister door as she returned to the yard. Domina Edith, deeply wrapped in furred cloaks and supported on either side by Sister Lucy and Dame Claire, walked at their head, her slow pace setting their own. As inconspicuously as possible, Frevisse slipped into her place in the double line and entered with the rest.
The priory servants were all gathered there now, drawn back along the walls to leave the nearest places for the nuns. While Sister Lucy and Dame Claire settled Domina Edith into her chair at the edge of the playing area, Frevisse had time to notice Roger Naylor standing to one side. Beside him was a small, dark-haired woman. Her hands and his were resting on the shoulders of two small girls and a slightly older sturdy young boy standing in front of them. His family, Frevisse thought, and realized that while she had seen the children around the priory, she had never connected them with Naylor before.
Then Montfort and his men arrived, the crowner striding forward to make a perfunctory bow to Domina Edith and take his place in his chair to her right. While his men faded to one side, apart from the priory people, he leaned over to make some sort of comment to Domina Edith, who nodded and murmured something back before they both straightened in their chairs and were still.
The pause then was disturbed only by a few whispers from along the walls and the rustle of reeds under shifting feet, before a small flute began to play behind the curtain, so softly it was at first barely heard. But the listeners gradually hushed, and its music strengthened into a soft weave of melody sweet and clear in the hall’s quiet. Except for the music’s movement everything was still and waiting in the candles’ gold light until from behind the curtain a silver-shining star rose with slow majesty into view, held in Piers’s small hand, followed by Piers himself. But he was no longer Piers. In place of the small, grinning boy was a serene, winged, shining Angel who gazed out at the gathered folk, the star lifted above him with one hand, his other hand-Frevisse suspected-holding to the cross pole of the stage for his balance atop the stacked packing baskets that had let him mount to Heaven. But the practicalities left her as Piers began to sing, “Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus…” his voice so clear and piercingly sweet it might indeed have been coming from somewhere above the world.
The hall was utterly hushed now, everyone rapt beyond movement, held by the angelic vision. For just the length of a short-drawn breath when the song had ended, the Angel gazed out upon his audience in the shimmering silence, and then said in a clear, carrying voice, “Wise Magi, know that He is born. God is made Man on this holy morn. He wills that at Bethlehem you go see the holy Child that sets Man free. Come this way, go see Him now. It is God’s will you should to Him bow.”
Around one end of the curtain Thomas Bassett appeared in his guise as the First King, looking as splendid as if his gown were truly blue silk embroidered in every color and lined with ermine instead of painted linen lined with rabbit, and the gems in his painted crown were not glass. He carried a golden box in his hands, and in his rich, rolling voice declared to the audience, “Now blessed be God of His sweet Son! For yonder a fair, bright star I see. Now is He come to us among, as the prophet said that it should be. He said there should a Babe be born to save mankind that was forlorn. He grant me grace, by yonder star, that I may come unto that place, to worship before His holy face.”
He struck a pose as if searching for something in the far distance, and Ellis strode from around the curtain, gowned in somber gray, black, and silver, bearing a box painted blood red and penitential purple. He looked around, unhappy and nervous, and declared, “Out of my way I fear I am, for signs of my country can I none see. Now, God, that on earth made Man, send me some knowledge of where I be!” He turned and saw the star still held aloft in Piers’s steady hand and exclaimed happily, “There it shines! A fair, bright star above I see, sure sign God’s Son shall set Man free. To worship that Child is my intent. Surely for such was God’s sign sent.” Turning to go, he saw the First King and added, “What is this I see this blessed day? Another King upon his way. Hark, comely King! I you pray, whither do you journey this fair day?”
“To seek a Child is my intent. The time is come, now is He sent, by yonder star here may you see.”
“Then, pray you, let us ride together through this fair and frosty weather.”
As Ellis went to stand by Bassett, Joliffe as the Third King came from behind the curtain. He wore a short cotehardie of a rich purple that showed off his fair coloring to perfection, and hose of deep green close fitted to his long legs. He carried a purse that clinked suggestively and his head seemed to carry the crown on it as naturally as if he had been born to it. His voice, higher and clearer than either Bassett’s or Ellis’s, seemed as golden as the candlelight. “I ride wandering in ways wide. Now, King of all Kings, send me such guide that I may go where I would be, to kneel at Your throne and Your glory see.”
In his turn he saw the star, exclaimed at it and, turning to go, saw the other Kings and joined them. In unison, to the audience, they then said, “To almighty God now pray we that His precious person we may see.”
They separated, Bassett and Ellis to one side, Joliffe to the other, and faced around toward the curtains that parted on cue, drawn by a hidden cord-not by Piers; he and his star still shone over all.
And not Rose, for there, on a chest covered with a richly brocaded cloth of gold and silver-or painted canvas, more likely-she sat, the swaddled form of a baby in her arms.
Such was the magic of that moment, that it was not an acrobat in a cheap blue gown holding a pillow tightly wrapped, but the Virgin herself, and her Babe. Her long hair spread around her shoulders, haloed by candles set behind her and the infant cradled lovingly to her breast, Rose was a very worshipful icon.
An enthralled sigh passed through the watchers. The three Kings knelt and in effective speeches offered their gifts of frankincense, myrrh, and gold. Mary held out her hand to them in acceptance and each came forward to gaze at the Child. While they held the tableau, the Angel sang the Gloria again. Then the curtains swung down across the scene, and Angel and star slipped down from view and it was over.