in a warmer clime where I might wear sandals. Instead I end my service in the windiest spital on earth.’ Obert pressed his stomach. ‘Oof. I already feel the food burning holes in my flesh. I’ll not be lying down for a while. To invite us to dine with him and then create such a strained mood is too cruel. I shan’t forgive him for this night.’
‘You do inspire him to prick at you.’
‘I have cause. Working well into the evening – that man’s never worked a whole day, much less into the evening. But do not fret, I have made my honesty into a game that he believes he is enjoyingwith me.’ Obert chuckled, but suddenly bent forward, his hand to his stomach, his face contorted in pain. ‘ Deus juva me,’ he groaned. ‘Fetch me the little bottle on the shelf over there.’ He nodded towards the foot of his bed.
Andrew fetched it and pulled out the stopper before handing it to the elderly priest, who drank down its contents and then sat back against the wall with a sigh.
‘It will soon work, else I’ll take a powder of crowfoot and die laughing.’ Obert chuckled weakly. ‘Does that not sound pleasant, to die laughing?’
‘Were I assured of dying so I should not fear it,’ said Andrew, easing down on to a stool near the bed. Obert had closed his eyes. ‘What did you take?’
‘Oh dear, I forgot – the crowfoot works only on an empty belly, and mine is far from empty,’ said Obert, tears of laughter streaming down his eyes.
Andrew did not know whether his companion was laughing or crying, or indeed whether or not he had lost his wits. ‘Father Obert?’
‘I took rue,’ the old priest whispered. ‘It often works miracles.’
‘Are you in much pain?’
Obert eased upright and opened his eyes. They were still quite filled with tears, but he was now smiling. ‘Old age is so filled with pain, how might I measure this one alone?’ He used his sleeve to blot his tears. ‘Oh my, forgive me, I’ve frightened you. And why not?’ He let out a sound between a groanand a sigh and then took a deep breath. ‘Better. So. I shall live another night.’
‘Can I fetch you anything else?’ Living another night did not seem compensation enough for what Obert had seemed to suffer.
But the old priest shook his head. ‘I need to be quiet, breathe deeply, from the bottom to the top of my lungs, and it will all calm.’ He demonstrated, coughing a little, but after a few rounds the coughing ceased and his expression was much less strained.
‘I must remember that,’ said Andrew. He thought he should leave the old man to his rest. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, rising.
‘But you wished to talk, eh? You held your own part well this evening. I do not believe Thomas could see how his talk disturbed you.’
That was not reassuring. ‘You could.’
Obert, still leaning back against the wall with his eyes half closed, smiled a little. ‘I know you far better than he does. Now. What is on your mind?’
‘Thomas was looking for something, wasn’t he?’
Tilting his head from side to side as if it was not such a terrible thing, Obert said, ‘He expects us to spy on one another.’
‘But we are priests.’
‘We are human, Andrew, just men beneath these gowns, and Thomas never forgets that. I advise you to pay more heed to that. Have I not told you that I betrayed someone to save myself?’
‘You’ve told me little. Even what you just said is more than you’ve revealed before.’
‘Let that satisfy you for tonight. My belly has suffered enough.’ He closed his eyes.
‘But–’
‘Leave me now, I pray you,’ said Obert.
Andrew withdrew, wide awake and frightened that if something should happen to Obert he would be responsible for the souls of all in this godforsaken place.
The assemblage of belongings Margaret and her friend presented was far smaller than James had expected. Margaret had more than did Ada, who he had expected would travel with household items as well as clothing.
‘Is this
‘You do inspire him to prick at you.’
‘I have cause. Working well into the evening – that man’s never worked a whole day, much less into the evening. But do not fret, I have made my honesty into a game that he believes he is enjoyingwith me.’ Obert chuckled, but suddenly bent forward, his hand to his stomach, his face contorted in pain. ‘ Deus juva me,’ he groaned. ‘Fetch me the little bottle on the shelf over there.’ He nodded towards the foot of his bed.
Andrew fetched it and pulled out the stopper before handing it to the elderly priest, who drank down its contents and then sat back against the wall with a sigh.
‘It will soon work, else I’ll take a powder of crowfoot and die laughing.’ Obert chuckled weakly. ‘Does that not sound pleasant, to die laughing?’
‘Were I assured of dying so I should not fear it,’ said Andrew, easing down on to a stool near the bed. Obert had closed his eyes. ‘What did you take?’
‘Oh dear, I forgot – the crowfoot works only on an empty belly, and mine is far from empty,’ said Obert, tears of laughter streaming down his eyes.
Andrew did not know whether his companion was laughing or crying, or indeed whether or not he had lost his wits. ‘Father Obert?’
‘I took rue,’ the old priest whispered. ‘It often works miracles.’
‘Are you in much pain?’
Obert eased upright and opened his eyes. They were still quite filled with tears, but he was now smiling. ‘Old age is so filled with pain, how might I measure this one alone?’ He used his sleeve to blot his tears. ‘Oh my, forgive me, I’ve frightened you. And why not?’ He let out a sound between a groanand a sigh and then took a deep breath. ‘Better. So. I shall live another night.’
‘Can I fetch you anything else?’ Living another night did not seem compensation enough for what Obert had seemed to suffer.
But the old priest shook his head. ‘I need to be quiet, breathe deeply, from the bottom to the top of my lungs, and it will all calm.’ He demonstrated, coughing a little, but after a few rounds the coughing ceased and his expression was much less strained.
‘I must remember that,’ said Andrew. He thought he should leave the old man to his rest. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, rising.
‘But you wished to talk, eh? You held your own part well this evening. I do not believe Thomas could see how his talk disturbed you.’
That was not reassuring. ‘You could.’
Obert, still leaning back against the wall with his eyes half closed, smiled a little. ‘I know you far better than he does. Now. What is on your mind?’
‘Thomas was looking for something, wasn’t he?’
Tilting his head from side to side as if it was not such a terrible thing, Obert said, ‘He expects us to spy on one another.’
‘But we are priests.’
‘We are human, Andrew, just men beneath these gowns, and Thomas never forgets that. I advise you to pay more heed to that. Have I not told you that I betrayed someone to save myself?’
‘You’ve told me little. Even what you just said is more than you’ve revealed before.’
‘Let that satisfy you for tonight. My belly has suffered enough.’ He closed his eyes.
‘But–’
‘Leave me now, I pray you,’ said Obert.
Andrew withdrew, wide awake and frightened that if something should happen to Obert he would be responsible for the souls of all in this godforsaken place.
The assemblage of belongings Margaret and her friend presented was far smaller than James had expected. Margaret had more than did Ada, who he had expected would travel with household items as well as clothing.
‘Is this
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