"Vale of Tears" - A Medieval Erotic Tale - Chapter Seven: The List
For previous chapters, please see posts below.
Vale of Tears
Chapter Seven - The List
“Picture in thy mind how ‘twould be if we monks were no longer here to tend to the upkeep of the abbey.”
We were heading down from the Llantysilio Mountains to the west and the golden abbey lay in the valley bottom afore us like a plover chick in its nest. Its graceful west front and rose window gleamed in the autumn sun. We were holding hands.
I sighed at Brother Rufus’ words. Despite the challenge of our liaison, I knew I loved Valle Crucis more than e’er.
“Nay,” said Brother Rufus, looking at me with round eyes. “I mean it not as a sad thing but as something joyous. Imagine robins nesting in the eaves of the dormitory, green springing from cracks in the white walls, the high altar wreathed in ivy-leaved toadflax!” He spake with a thrill in his voice, his free hand waving in the air.
“And all the beauty we have wrought for the glory of God come crashing down!” I shook my head.
“But is’t not what the bard spake of? Thou didst tell me he did. Nothing can diminish the glory of God because God is in all.” He stopped walking and stopped me from walking. He laid his palm ‘gainst my cheek. “All.” His earnest eyes searched mine.
“Mayhap. Mayhap God can see the beauty in a rotting corpse but I am not God and I see it not.” I looked down, feeling I had disappointed him.
He moved closer. “’Tis a heathen image, forsooth, but I find myself with St Francis in this matter, in love with Brother Sun and Sister Moon.”
I smiled. Yea, a love of nature, e’en that of ourselves, was a part of our heritage, too.
“How now!” ‘Twas Brother Thomas calling up from the valley floor. In an instant, our hands fell to our sides and we moved apart. “Abbot Francis is home. There is to be a meeting in the Chapter House.”
“Good brother, when?” Brother Rufus’ sonorous baritone rang ‘cross the valley.
“Now!”
________________________________________________________________________
“Surrender?” Prior Stephen jumped to his feet.
“Nay. I shall ne’er surrender. I shall bid adieu to this place only once my soul leaves my body. But I shall not consign my flock to the same fate. They have been proffered the chance to return to their former lives without censure or molestation. The abbey’s lands and belongings shall be turned o’er to the King but there shall be monks at Valle Crucis pursuing their ‘vain and superstitious round of dumb ceremonies’, as the Protestants would have it, till the very word monastery has left the English tongue.” Abbot Francis had returned from Fountains with a smile-less visage but a sainted light in his eyes. I worshipped him now more than I e’er had done afore.
“But thou asketh of us to take the cowardly road? To return to the feculent world beyond our borders to fight and swive and say our prayers on Sunday like all the rest of God’s little hypocrites? Not I!” Prior Stephen plunged his hands into his curls, gnashing his teeth as he attempted to shake such traitorous ideas from his head.
“What will happen, Brother Abbot?” said Brother Thomas quietly.
“Soon, Thomas Cromwell’s men will come and what we do not hand o’er to them they will take by force. All resistance shall be met by their violence. I, I cannot allow that to happen!” Brow furrowed plaintively, he spake to us all. “We must not resist. ‘Twould be more than I could bear to see the churches of thy flesh done harm as they shall do harm to these churches of stone. There is a list of names.” He indicated a scroll ‘pon the lectern. “Those who find their name writ there must come to me and I shall ready them for their new life. They should leave as soon as they might.”
With a great cry, Prior Stephen struck himself ‘pon the head with both his fists, making the brethren recoil. “Not I!” he screamed again. “Not I!” For he knew his name would appear ‘pon that list, cursed as he was with a temper that could not stand by and watch his abbey defiled. He rushed from the Chapter House having ne’er glanced at the wretched list.
Abbot Francis’ mouth trembled. He had lived close by Prior Stephen for many a year and knew better than most the demons that dogged him. He walked through our group of murmuring brothers and took up the scroll. After one sharp breath to steel himself, he read out the first name. “Brother Aidan.”
Our youngest brother’s eyes instantly poured with tears as he stared around him, wondering what further ill he had done that he was singled out thus for banishment. I myself shook my head and glanced at Abbot Francis only to find him looking ‘cross at me with sad, knowing eyes. I looked then at Brother Aidan and saw him as mine abbot urged me to - a delicate and beauteous creature whose charms would not be o’erlooked by rapacious soldiers. He was - obvious. He had always been obvious. With fear in my heart, I looked to Abbot Francis ‘gain; found myself lost in the softness of his expression. Then I knew it. He knew about me, too - he had always known!
Another monk’s name was called and he draped an arm about Brother Aidan’s shoulders and led the sobbing boy from the room.
And then, I harked the name of my belovèd. Brother Rufus clamped a hand o’er his mouth and stared up at the ceiling afore rushing from the chamber as so many more now were doing.
I stood there blankly, my brethren roaring and bustling about me, till I harked the inevitable: mine own name called out. I broke free from whate’er accidie embraced me and took Abbot Francis’ sleeve in my hand. “Let me and Brother Rufus stay behind. Do not send us from this place, the only place where we have e’er been able to find true happiness. There ne’er was any other position for us. We would stay here to protect and serve till the utter end.”
Forsooth, all my brothers were pleading the same yet methought there was a glimpse of affirmation in the eye of the abbot when he looked ‘pon me. ‘Twas enow - I left the Chapter House.
______________________________________________________________________
As I made my way back to the dormitory to lay ‘pon my bunk and weep, I found my belovèd stood at the door of the choir looking down ‘pon the prone figure of Prior Stephen. He lay as Brothers Rufus and Aidan had lain in punishment at his command. The prior sobbed, and rolled back and forth, till his tears formed twin streams that soaked the hair at his temples. “I have sinned! I have been like some were-creature that must be shackled in the moonlight to keep it from harming those it loves! I cannot be trusted.”
Brother Rufus looked down and spread his arms welcoming wide.
“I have sinned the sin of anger and I have prided myself ‘pon it where I should have cursed myself and now I am punished for’t!”
“Come,” said my young Welshman but as it became clear Prior Stephen would not rise into his embrace, he reached down and lifted him into his arms. The taller man buried his face in his shoulder and Brother Rufus stroked his wilting curly hair as he told him, “The claustral life is not about pride or curses but kindness. And forgiveness. I forgive thee. Let it go.”
I wandered without and watched like a dreamer as the lay brothers brought four waggons onto the precinct and began to load them with supplies and our few but precious belongings.
Vale of Tears
Chapter Seven - The List
“Picture in thy mind how ‘twould be if we monks were no longer here to tend to the upkeep of the abbey.”
We were heading down from the Llantysilio Mountains to the west and the golden abbey lay in the valley bottom afore us like a plover chick in its nest. Its graceful west front and rose window gleamed in the autumn sun. We were holding hands.
I sighed at Brother Rufus’ words. Despite the challenge of our liaison, I knew I loved Valle Crucis more than e’er.
“Nay,” said Brother Rufus, looking at me with round eyes. “I mean it not as a sad thing but as something joyous. Imagine robins nesting in the eaves of the dormitory, green springing from cracks in the white walls, the high altar wreathed in ivy-leaved toadflax!” He spake with a thrill in his voice, his free hand waving in the air.
“And all the beauty we have wrought for the glory of God come crashing down!” I shook my head.
“But is’t not what the bard spake of? Thou didst tell me he did. Nothing can diminish the glory of God because God is in all.” He stopped walking and stopped me from walking. He laid his palm ‘gainst my cheek. “All.” His earnest eyes searched mine.
“Mayhap. Mayhap God can see the beauty in a rotting corpse but I am not God and I see it not.” I looked down, feeling I had disappointed him.
He moved closer. “’Tis a heathen image, forsooth, but I find myself with St Francis in this matter, in love with Brother Sun and Sister Moon.”
I smiled. Yea, a love of nature, e’en that of ourselves, was a part of our heritage, too.
“How now!” ‘Twas Brother Thomas calling up from the valley floor. In an instant, our hands fell to our sides and we moved apart. “Abbot Francis is home. There is to be a meeting in the Chapter House.”
“Good brother, when?” Brother Rufus’ sonorous baritone rang ‘cross the valley.
“Now!”
________________________________________________________________________
“Surrender?” Prior Stephen jumped to his feet.
“Nay. I shall ne’er surrender. I shall bid adieu to this place only once my soul leaves my body. But I shall not consign my flock to the same fate. They have been proffered the chance to return to their former lives without censure or molestation. The abbey’s lands and belongings shall be turned o’er to the King but there shall be monks at Valle Crucis pursuing their ‘vain and superstitious round of dumb ceremonies’, as the Protestants would have it, till the very word monastery has left the English tongue.” Abbot Francis had returned from Fountains with a smile-less visage but a sainted light in his eyes. I worshipped him now more than I e’er had done afore.
“But thou asketh of us to take the cowardly road? To return to the feculent world beyond our borders to fight and swive and say our prayers on Sunday like all the rest of God’s little hypocrites? Not I!” Prior Stephen plunged his hands into his curls, gnashing his teeth as he attempted to shake such traitorous ideas from his head.
“What will happen, Brother Abbot?” said Brother Thomas quietly.
“Soon, Thomas Cromwell’s men will come and what we do not hand o’er to them they will take by force. All resistance shall be met by their violence. I, I cannot allow that to happen!” Brow furrowed plaintively, he spake to us all. “We must not resist. ‘Twould be more than I could bear to see the churches of thy flesh done harm as they shall do harm to these churches of stone. There is a list of names.” He indicated a scroll ‘pon the lectern. “Those who find their name writ there must come to me and I shall ready them for their new life. They should leave as soon as they might.”
With a great cry, Prior Stephen struck himself ‘pon the head with both his fists, making the brethren recoil. “Not I!” he screamed again. “Not I!” For he knew his name would appear ‘pon that list, cursed as he was with a temper that could not stand by and watch his abbey defiled. He rushed from the Chapter House having ne’er glanced at the wretched list.
Abbot Francis’ mouth trembled. He had lived close by Prior Stephen for many a year and knew better than most the demons that dogged him. He walked through our group of murmuring brothers and took up the scroll. After one sharp breath to steel himself, he read out the first name. “Brother Aidan.”
Our youngest brother’s eyes instantly poured with tears as he stared around him, wondering what further ill he had done that he was singled out thus for banishment. I myself shook my head and glanced at Abbot Francis only to find him looking ‘cross at me with sad, knowing eyes. I looked then at Brother Aidan and saw him as mine abbot urged me to - a delicate and beauteous creature whose charms would not be o’erlooked by rapacious soldiers. He was - obvious. He had always been obvious. With fear in my heart, I looked to Abbot Francis ‘gain; found myself lost in the softness of his expression. Then I knew it. He knew about me, too - he had always known!
Another monk’s name was called and he draped an arm about Brother Aidan’s shoulders and led the sobbing boy from the room.
And then, I harked the name of my belovèd. Brother Rufus clamped a hand o’er his mouth and stared up at the ceiling afore rushing from the chamber as so many more now were doing.
I stood there blankly, my brethren roaring and bustling about me, till I harked the inevitable: mine own name called out. I broke free from whate’er accidie embraced me and took Abbot Francis’ sleeve in my hand. “Let me and Brother Rufus stay behind. Do not send us from this place, the only place where we have e’er been able to find true happiness. There ne’er was any other position for us. We would stay here to protect and serve till the utter end.”
Forsooth, all my brothers were pleading the same yet methought there was a glimpse of affirmation in the eye of the abbot when he looked ‘pon me. ‘Twas enow - I left the Chapter House.
______________________________________________________________________
As I made my way back to the dormitory to lay ‘pon my bunk and weep, I found my belovèd stood at the door of the choir looking down ‘pon the prone figure of Prior Stephen. He lay as Brothers Rufus and Aidan had lain in punishment at his command. The prior sobbed, and rolled back and forth, till his tears formed twin streams that soaked the hair at his temples. “I have sinned! I have been like some were-creature that must be shackled in the moonlight to keep it from harming those it loves! I cannot be trusted.”
Brother Rufus looked down and spread his arms welcoming wide.
“I have sinned the sin of anger and I have prided myself ‘pon it where I should have cursed myself and now I am punished for’t!”
“Come,” said my young Welshman but as it became clear Prior Stephen would not rise into his embrace, he reached down and lifted him into his arms. The taller man buried his face in his shoulder and Brother Rufus stroked his wilting curly hair as he told him, “The claustral life is not about pride or curses but kindness. And forgiveness. I forgive thee. Let it go.”
I wandered without and watched like a dreamer as the lay brothers brought four waggons onto the precinct and began to load them with supplies and our few but precious belongings.