Sylvia (37 page)

Father Hermann had finally had enough of the accusing eye and, realising she was
only
a gardener and probably a lay sister, rose to his full indignation. ‘Why are we waiting, Sister? Will you open the door at once,' he demanded.

‘Yes, Father, of course, welcome to the convent of Disibodenberg, known to the blessed St Hildegard, the great scholar.'

‘Yes, yes, we know all that! Open up!' Father Hermann replied irritably, now fully back into his stride and his usual bombastic self.

The gate opened and a small, rotund woman in a rough habit soiled with dirt stood before us smiling. Then she bowed her head to Father Hermann. ‘I am Rosa,' she said quietly, all the boldness from the prying eye now disappeared.

‘To the abbess, at once!' the priest demanded. ‘We have walked all day and have not eaten since dawn and then only a single crust and water!'

My stomach rumbled for lack of food and I dearly wished that I had shared his crust.

‘I shall inform the kitcheness, but first must tell the cellaress – it is she who must decide who eats and who does not,' Rosa said, regaining some of the confidence formerly possessed by her single eye.

Father Hermann ignored this remark. ‘The abbess! Where do we find this dame?' he asked again.

To our surprise Rosa brought two fingers to her lips and whistled. A shrill sharp sound I could myself perform, but knew it for the skill possessed by a peasant, a countryman, usually a goatherd. Moments later a nun appeared from what I would later learn was the entrance to the chapter house.

‘Come, Sylvia,' Father Hermann said, walking to meet her, Rosa following us.

‘Welcome, Father!' the nun called out as we approached.

‘The novice, Sister. The one that is late!' Rosa called from behind us.

‘Thank you, Rosa, that will be all, you may go,' the nun said sharply, then added, ‘I have told you not to whistle!' Then, turning, she smiled sweetly at Father Hermann. ‘I am Sister Angelica, the novice mistress.' She turned to me with a slight frown. ‘You are Sylvia Honeyeater?'

I curtsied, lowering my eyes. ‘Aye, Sister.'

‘We had expected you sooner,' Sister Angelica said, perhaps a little archly.

‘She had first to complete her curriculum, Latin, Greek and Hebrew,' Father Hermann repeated. ‘It was the bishop's wish,' he then declared, further embroidering this spurious reason for my delay.

‘Oh? That doesn't sound like my brother the bishop, who cares little for learning, hated Latin as a child and to my knowledge knows nothing of Greek and even less of Hebrew.' Sister Angelica looked at me sharply. ‘Nor cares he much for miracles to roses or the summoning of tweeting birds.'

Whatever Father Hermann had caused Father Paulus to write about me to the abbess was clearly now well distributed amongst the nuns or, at the very least, shown to Sister Angelica. If it contained anything like the verbose introduction he had given at the gate to Rosa, I knew I was in trouble. The letter concerning me had obviously not been well received. Like most nuns, Sister Angelica was highborn, the sister of the bishop and therefore a member of the nobility. She would regard me with disdain, and she would not be in the least beholden to the priest.

‘I, myself, was a poor student,' Father Hermann said, ‘but I was witness to both miracles,' he added, though his voice was too soft to be called defiant.

Please say no more, Father!
I begged him silently.

‘Ah, that is helpful to know, Father,' Sister Angelica said sweetly, then turned and smiled at me. ‘To have a novice of such
superior
intelligence and then also
spiritually
blessed is indeed a great privilege. Come now, we must see the abbess, she has been awaiting your arrival most anxiously these five days.' There was no mistaking the sarcasm to her voice. Tired and hungry, I trembled at the thought of what lay ahead of me.

‘They have not eaten!' Rosa called out. She had retired when asked to leave our presence, but still remained within earshot, settled on her haunches a little way down the path pretending to pluck out weeds.

‘Rosa!' Sister Angelica called sternly, the single sounding of her name her shrill admonishment.

Sister Angelica led us to the chapter house and bade me to be seated on a bench outside the door. Then she turned to Father Hermann. ‘It will not be necessary for you to tarry any longer, Father. The novice is now with us and we thank thee for her safe delivery.' She pointed to several buildings some distance away and higher up the mount. ‘It is now almost sunset. You may, I feel sure, sojourn this night at the monastery.'

There was no offer of sustenance, as Rosa had suggested, and it was clear Sister Angelica considered Father Hermann dismissed. I could see that he felt humiliated, but lacked the courage to demand food from so imperious a person as the sister of the bishop. God, it seemed, had granted him his wish and given us a fast day. I wondered how I would last until the bread and wine of breakfast yet twelve hours hence.

Father Hermann placed his hand upon my head and said a short prayer, while Sister Angelica stood aside, impatient for him to be gone. ‘Bless you, my child. May the Lord be with you as you continue His wondrous works to perform,' he prayed. Then looking down at me said in a voice I felt was close to tears, ‘Farewell, Sylvia. We, Father Paulus, Nicholas and myself, will greatly miss thy presence in our lives.'

‘Farewell, Father, I too shall miss you and will try to do God's bidding,' I said, softly sobbing. I knew I would greatly miss his presence in my life. He had been kind and generous to me and despite his failings I loved him dearly, for I knew that underneath he was no different to me, very afraid. I watched as he walked away, his tall figure slightly bowed. The Virgin Mary had chosen her earthly husband well, for there was no badness in him.

‘Stop crying at once, Sylvia, you are not a child!' Sister Angelica demanded. Then she pointed to my stave and the leather bag on my back. ‘No, no, you cannot bring those with you,' she said, shaking her finger.

‘But I must!' I cried. ‘They are ever with me!'

‘Nay, no earthly goods may thou possess, they must go at once!' Then turning she shouted, ‘Come here, Rosa!'

Rosa came at her bidding. ‘What is it, Sister?'

Sister Angelica pointed. ‘The stick and the bag, take them and burn them.'

‘Nay!' I screamed. ‘They are holy, blessed with holy water, the gift of a priest!'

Sister Angelica looked scornful. ‘If they were gifts from His Holiness the Pope you may still not possess them.'

I was suddenly in a blind panic. ‘Father Hermann,' I yelled at the top of my voice. ‘Father, please come back! Please!'

Rosa, seeing my distress, said quickly, ‘I'll fetch him.'

‘No, Rosa!' Sister Angelica called, but Rosa had already turned and was running towards the gate.

‘Really, this is too much! I shall have to tell of this! You are hardly arrived and already you are a troublemaker!' the novice mistress chided angrily.

Rosa soon returned with Father Hermann and I ran to meet them and fell to my knees clutching my precious stave to my breast. ‘Father, tell her, tell her I
must
have my stave!' I wept.

‘What is this, Sylvia?' he asked.

‘We can possess nothing here, Father. Ours is a vow of poverty,' Rosa explained.

‘But a stave, our Lord Jesus Himself possessed one?' he said, bemused.

Sister Angelica had by this time approached us. ‘Tush!' She pointed to the stave clasped to my bosom. ‘It is wordly goods and we have forsaken any such,' she scolded.

Father Hermann tried to assert his priestly authority. ‘It is a stick that grows upon a tree, God's tree, God's stick, Christ Himself carried such a stave.'

Sister Angelica gave him a small, triumphant smile. ‘This is a convent where a woman doth preside who has within these bounds the absolute authority. No stick, no stave, no anything! I go at once to fetch the abbess,' she threatened.

‘No, please don't,' I begged. ‘I had not thought to cause trouble.' Turning to Father Hermann I asked, ‘Father, will you take my stave and keep it safe? And my bag, will you give it to Nicholas? They are from the Monastery of St Thomas, the work of Father John, and are blessed with holy water from the Pope.'

Father Hermann looked straight at Sister Angelica and slowly shook his head, then he looked down at me. ‘Of course, Sylvia, I shall keep the stave in the sacristy of St Mary's.' He grinned. ‘Pilgrims will think it a relic of some past prophet or holy monk.' He looked pointedly at Sister Angelica. ‘And perhaps it will turn out that they are not far wrong.' With this he reached out and took my hand and raised me to my feet. Then he took possession of my precious stave and leather bag.

‘Please go now!' Sister Angelica said, deliberately not appending ‘Father' to her dismissal.

When Father Hermann had once again departed, Rosa escorting him as far as the gate, I stood miserable and forlorn, sniffing and wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. Once they were beyond hearing, Sister Angelica turned to me. ‘Tears are of no avail here, you stupid girl. So stop crying and pull yourself together. We go now to see the abbess, who you will, at all times, refer to as Magistra, both to her face and otherwise, do you understand?'

‘Yes, Sister,' I said, sniffing back my tears.

‘Yes, Sister Angelica! I am your teacher and must be obeyed,' she commanded.

‘Yes, thank you, Sister Angelica.'

I followed her to the chapter room where she bade me wait, then departed, leaving me alone on the bench outside. The sun was beginning to set and I was dog-tired, hungry and thoroughly miserable and thought that I might escape at the first opportunity. I felt weak for lack of food but with darkness approaching I knew if I bolted now I would have to sleep in the woods and it would be too late to forage for wild strawberries, blackberries and the like, all abundant at this time of the year. I decided I'd wait until morning. I would have slept and eaten and then I could all the better make a run for it.

‘Psst!' A voice sounded behind me. I turned to see Rosa. ‘Take this, but eat it quickly,' she said urgently, thrusting a thick crust of bread in my direction. I grabbed the bread and hid it in the fold of my dress. ‘No! Eat it now or else they'll confiscate it!' she hissed.

‘Thank you,' I said softly.

‘Come and see me when you can,' she said in a loud whisper and then was gone.

I devoured the bread hungrily, hastily swallowing half-chewed chunks, the crusty rinds rasping at the lining of my throat, terrified that Sister Angelica or the abbess would come upon me chewing. But I need not have worried. The sun was well set before they approached, Sister Angelica walking beside a tall, thin woman who carried a lantern in her left hand and a testament in her right.

I stood and curtsied as they came to a halt in front of me. ‘This is her,' Sister Angelica announced, then sneeringly added, ‘our little miracle worker who would carry a stave and begging bag as if a little prophetess.'

‘Thank you, Sister Angelica. It is late. You must attend the other novices at Vespers. I will take over from here, then send her to the lavatorium to thee to have her head shaved and be given a nightgown.' Without further word Sister Angelica departed, though I sensed she would have wished to stay. Whereupon the abbess turned to me. ‘Welcome, Sylvia Honeyeater,' she said.

‘Thank you, Magistra,' I answered softly.

Then, as if that was the end to her pleasantries, ‘Follow me,' she commanded. I followed as she mounted the five steps into the chapter room and walked over and placed the lantern on a table behind which stood a single chair. To the front of the table were several rows of wooden benches. A coloured statue of the Virgin and child hung from the wall behind the chair. I took a seat on the front bench. In the half-dark the room appeared most gloomy.

‘So you have come at last,' the abbess said crisply, while turning the pages of the testament.

‘Yes, Magistra,' I replied meekly.

‘And why is it so?' She did not look up from the book.

‘Excuse me, I don't understand, Magistra?'

‘Understand what? I ask you, why are
you
arrived late?'

‘We . . . Father Hermann and I walked from Cologne, we left as the Angelus rang.'

She looked up, exasperated. ‘No, stupid girl! You are five days late!
Five days!
The other novices were all here at the required time. Why-were-you-late?' she scolded, her patience worn thin.

‘I . . . I had to complete my curri . . . culum,' I stammered, repeating the explanation Father Hermann had given to Sister Angelica.

‘Ah, yes, the bishop's wish,' she said, returning to the testament, so that I knew Sister Angelica had instructed her of Father Hermann's conversation.

‘Read this,' she demanded suddenly, looking up and pushing the testament towards me.

I rose and approached the table and then saw that the book was not turned about. I had often faced this problem with both Father Paulus and Master Israel. They would read to me aloud, facing me, and anxious to see how the letters were formed I had from the very beginning watched the words on the page, so when I learned to read I could as easily read words upside down as the right way up. Fortuitously the lamp threw sufficient light for me to see the Latin words quite clearly.