Covenant With Hell Read Online Free PDF

appropriate to her rank, he thought, but horses owned more grace.
    Thomas knew he was being petty but could not quite repent this failing. When some claimed that God could only create beauty, and thus it was the Devil who crafted unsightly things, Thomas reminded them that Satan himself had been a splendid creature. Like all men, he responded to beauty, but even in the days before he took vows, he thought it cruel to mock uncomely women. Today he had lost the battle to remain charitable. Prioress Ursell had deeply offended him.
    A knock at the door disrupted his thoughts. He was grateful.
    A nun escorted Prioress Eleanor into the chambers, bowed to the leader of Ryehill Priory, and left without a sound.
    Prioress Eleanor, hands folded and eyes lowered, stood quite still in front of the seated Prioress Ursell.
    Nearby, a hearth fire snapped, then bravely flared, but gave forth only a little warmth.
    The silence grew oppressive, and Brother Thomas became impatient. The leader of Ryehill Priory had yet to offer his prioress a chair, a rank discourtesy. There was no reason why Prioress Ursell should treat a woman, her equal in worldly rank and surely her superior in God’s service, like a wayward nun called to confront her sins and be rebuked. He knew it was not his place to express outrage, but his self-control was rapidly weakening.
    “Please sit,” the prioress of Ryehill said at last, her tone as icy as the air. She pointed to a stool in a corner.
    Thomas looked around.
    The maid servant had been dismissed, and the nun by the door did not move. Father Vincent stared at the crucifix on the wall as if in deep conversation with God.
    Furious at the insult, the monk started to walk to the stool, intending to bring it to his prioress.
    “I prefer to stand,” Tyndal’s leader replied.
    Thomas stepped back. The firmness in her voice delighted him for the quiet rebuke it suggested, but he grew concerned when he saw her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Some might conclude she was angry, but he knew better. His prioress was in pain, and he knew the cause.
    On the day of their arrival, and against his counsel, she had dismounted from her donkey, removed her shoes, and walked the last sacred mile into Walsingham. Seeing a prioress of high birth humble herself so, several of her fellow travelers emulated her, a gesture that proved quite agonizing to some. His prioress had suffered most.
    Her choice of penance was admirable, but he feared the results. Sister Anne had not accompanied them, and, by the time they reached Ryehill’s entrance, he had seen blood on one of her feet. He hoped this priory had healers more skilled in their arts than Prioress Ursell was in courtesy.
    “Your monk has disrupted the peace of this priory by bringing us very disagreeable news,” the prioress of Ryehill said, glancing at him with open disapproval.
    Thomas bit his tongue at the implied rebuke. Surely that dead nun would have chosen not to suffer a cruel death, and he knew he would have preferred not to have found her broken body. Neither of them had wanted this tragedy to happen. Of the three, he concluded that this priory had suffered the least.
    Ursell cleared her throat. “He has said—”
    “I would hear Brother Thomas speak for himself.”
    Ursell’s eyes narrowed.
    Eleanor’s gray eyes took on the hue of storm clouds.
    “As you will, but all speculation is unwarranted. I insist he keep to the facts of what he found. Those are grievous enough.”
    Prioress Eleanor raised an eyebrow, then gave her monk permission to speak.
    “As Father Vincent’s guest, I sleep in his chambers attached to the chapel next door to this priory.”
    The priest turned away from his contemplation of the wall and scowled at the monk. “The Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock. Call it by its proper name, Brother.”
    Thomas bowed with intended courtesy but suspected his eyes betrayed a contrary attitude.
    Father Vincent swiftly renewed his contemplation of the