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into that chamber and knelt to the Abba. “May God show you favor.”
    “And you, Priora,” said the Abba. “Take a seat and tell me what has happened since I have been gone.”
    Although this report was customary, Priora Iditha hesitated before giving it. “One of the slaves ran off,” she began when she had gathered her thoughts. “Sorra Atula has put more hives in the apple orchard. Sorrae Eldalinda and Richilda have taken over the milking of the ewes since Sorrae Madelgard and Ercangarea have taken fevers and are laid in their cells to recover; Superiora Gundrada will report to you on their condition. And your kinsman, Bishop Freculf, came to see Gynethe Mehaut. He read two of the accounts we have of her and said he will make a decision about her in the next days.”
    “Good, good,” said Abba Sunifred. “May God guide him a right.”
    “Amen,” said Priora Iditha. She knelt and kissed the Abba’s hand. “May God keep you to be our male mother, as the Apostles proclaim.”
    “Amen,” said Abba Sunifred, then added, “And the sooner we are shut, of her, the better.”
    Priora Iditha was shocked. “She came to us for succor and the protection of her soul.”
    “Perhaps. My kinsman shall decide that.” Abba Sunifred crossed her arms. “She is too … too perplexing a presence. She should be with those who are better prepared to deal with her than we are.”
    “If the Bishop decides she must remain here, what will you do?” the Priora asked, an edge in her voice as she rose to her feet.
    “I will obey him, of course, as a dutiful Abba must.” There was a glint in her blue eyes that suggested the Bishop would be wise to order Gynethe Mehaut removed from Santa Albegunda. “We have already had pilgrims ask to see her, and this is not beneficial for this convent or for the maid herself.”
    “That is true,” the Priora agreed, for she had been troubled by the rumors that were already flying about the white-skinned, red-eyed woman who had been taken into the convent; in time this would only get worse.
    “Then you will speak with my kinsman when he comes again, to remind him of the danger we may face in regard to this woman,” said Abba Sunifred. “He will deal with her for her good, and for ours.” This time she signaled to Priora Iditha to leave her.
    The Priora abased herself and left the apartments, apprehension growing with every step on behalf of Gynethe Mehaut, who had come to them for their guardianship and was becoming a piece in a game. She turned toward the chapel, gathering her thoughts and praying for the wisdom to tell the young woman to prepare for changes in her life without causing her distress; the nearer she got to the chapel, the more futile her prayers became, so that, in the end, she dared not speak with Gynethe Mehaut at all, postponing the conversation until Compline, after which Gynethe Mehaut would walk in the herb garden, among the night-blooming flowers, where Priora Iditha could meet her and be assured of their privacy.
     
    T EXT OF A LETTER FROM THE SCRIBE A RDULF ON BEHALF OF H ARTGAR, G RAV OF S OLIGNAC, TO B ISHOP W OLVINUS AT B OURGES, CARRIED BY COURIER UNDER ARMED ESCORT.
     
    To the most puissant, most pious Bishop Wolvinus at Bourges, the greetings of the Grav of Solignac, Hartgar by name, advanced by the mandate of Karl-lo-Magne to the position left vacant by the death of Rihwin from fever. I take leave to address myself to the missive you had carried to Rihwin on behalf of the people of Bourges.
    I regret to tell you that although the famine that has struck so much of Karl-lo-Magne’s lands is passing at last, in this region, at least, it is not yet over. Farmsteads stand abandoned, and many fields lie fallow out of their season. Pigs and cattle are scattered in the woods, and sheep are gathered into flocks by anyone with purpose enough to venture into the deep meadows and higher peaks. I say this in preparation for my necessary denial of the aid you request