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By Root 2959 0

Once, before the Chapel Royal filled his life, Willie had been Master of the Hospital of St Leonard, and received his income from the lands of Traquair, both close at hand to the west. Hearty James had Traquair now, but all over Ettrick Forest and Yarrow there lived baritones and basses and even people who were completely tone-deaf who thought they were his family. Their friendship had left Willie himself with a sentimental kind of affection for the neighbourhood, and an expressed desire to return and live there one day, presumably with a full choir and his trumpets, since nothing less was likely to suit a man who earned his income by presenting expensive musical performances in rich urban areas.

Thinking of it, Nicholas jogged along singing with the rest, until told off for taking flamboyant liberties with the beat. Nicholas mimed tragic remorse, and saw Jordan grinning. Recently, Jordan had become a good mimic. Nicholas was quite sorry when the hills gave way to the wide rolling plains of the Merse and, bypassing the castle of Home, they prepared to arrive, spruced up and sober, at the modest Cistercian Priory of Eccles.

Two miles north of the river Tweed, less than six from the Abbey of Kelso and altogether too close to the frontier of England, Eccles protected its nuns with stout walls and anxious local landowners. Two of these came riding out to meet Nicholas. ‘My lord? You mean to call on the Prioress?’

Nicholas knew, but did not trust, either of them. He said, ‘We come merely to bring away one of her guests, the lady of Hanseyck. Master Julius here is her guardian.’ Julius, rather tardily, rode forward.

‘The young lady? The young lady Bonne?’ said one of the men. ‘But she has already left. All those remaining have left, except for the Prioress and her servants. There have been several raids. It was thought best.’

‘Where has she gone?’ Julius said.

‘To a friend of the Prioress. To a neighbouring laird. You know Constantine Malloch?’ said the man.

Julius stared. Nicholas said, ‘Yes, very well. How very thoughtful of him to offer her shelter. And Sister Monika, I trust?’

Sister Monika, happily, was with the young lady as well. The Malloch property, as my lord of Fleury would know, was not far away. Indeed, one might think it too close to the frontier for the safety of a widower, however hearty, with a son and daughter still at home. In the opinion of some, the young persons should be persuaded to move. At the time, agreeing, thanking and taking his leave, Nicholas did not notice the glow on Jordan’s twelve-year-old face.

They called on the Prioress, and confirmed what they had heard. The Prioress had a hooked nose like her late half-brother, which had presumably come straight down via their mother from King Robert the Third. Her manner also was regal. She was dryly courteous to Julius but a little more forthcoming in private with Nicholas. ‘You were a friend to poor, silly Phemie Dunbar. The paramour was not an uncaring man: the outcome was a pity, I felt. So, I believe, did Dr Andreas. My brother studied at Louvain with his father. You seemed surprised that I had sent off the Sisters?’

‘I thought your cloth would have protected you,’ Nicholas said. ‘But I can see, if you fear the English so much, that no one can accuse you of collaborating with them.’

The black eyes narrowed, cross as an owl’s. The Prioress said, ‘Do people say so?’

‘Not at all,’ Nicholas said. ‘That is why I considered your dispatch of the Sisters so wise. I thought perhaps you might have kept the girl, since she is a foreigner.’

‘I might. But the lady Bonne is not a nun, and her chastity must be my care. Is she the daughter of the Graf Wenzel von Hanseyck?’

‘You doubt it?’ said Nicholas.

‘It is not for me to doubt it,’ the Prioress said. ‘She may be his daughter, but if so, she has not been reared to her station.’

‘Her manners seemed good,’ Nicholas said. He was entertained.

‘Her manners are too good,’ said the Prioress. He knew what she meant. He thought, then, that her only interest was Bonne, and that it was going to be all right.