Night was coming fast. They needed shelter. Rain and sleet pelted them. In the distance was the remains of a cow shed. The door was long gone and the roof sagged. Still, it was better than nothing. Moses Aaron trotted into the shed and shook his soaked body. He brayed deep in his throat. James leapt off the cart and ran a hand down Moses Aaron's neck. "There, there old boy, a good rub down and some oats will set you right."
"What about us?" asked Brother Matthew.
"Look for some kindling, build a fire and then get out of those wet cloaks and robes."
In the back of the shed Lydia found some kindling and dry wood. She built a small fire while Brother Matthew draped their cloaks and robes over a broken stall. If God willed it, they would be dry by morning. Brother Matthew found a crock of honeyed whisky in the cart. He took a swig. A small gasp escaped his lips after he swallowed. He handed the whisky to Lydia.
"I would rather have a blanket."
Brother Matthew tossed her a blanket. The wool was rough to the touch, but thick. She wrapped it tightly around her and went to the fire. In the drafty shed, the fire offered little warmth. Wrapped in a blanket Brother Matthew sat down beside her and offered her bread and cheese. This she took.
When James finished with Moses Aaron, he joined them. Brother Matthew handed him the crock of whisky. James did not gasp when he took a gulp. He handed the crock to Lydia. "A drop of this will warm you."
Brother Matthew said, "That is too strong for Luke."
Lydia glared at Brother Matthew and took the crock. The whisky burned as it went down her throat, but it did not cure the chill that rattled in her bones.
After their meal, Brother Matthew made a single pallet out of all the blankets . He said, "We best snuggle up tonight or we will be frozen solid in the morning."
Horrified Lydia thought, I will NOT bed down with two men.
Brother Matthew crawled beneath the blankets. "The temperature is falling. I can feel it. Luke, James come to bed."
Lydia could feel it too. Panicked she looked at James. In a low voice he said, "I can not have the Dame's angel freezing. Luke you are safe with us."
Was she? Her voice trembled. "I will sleep with Moses Aaron."
The mule shook his head at her. James said, "In his own stall Moses Aaron will lie down to sleep, but on the road, he always stands."
Lydia thought, Stupid mule!
From the pallet Brother Matthew asked, "Be you forgetting your scripture, Luke?"
She did not answer.
Undetered by her silence he told her, "In the book of Ecclesiastes it says, 'Again if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?'"
There was truth in those words and she knew it. Her fingers and toes tingled. Would she get frost bite if she refused? Probably. Though she did not want to, she climbed beneath the blankets beside Brother Matthew. James banked the fire and lay down on the otherside of her. He tucked the blankets around them. The only peope she had ever snuggled with in the cold were Moder, Old Kate and Aunt Rachel. Wedged between the two male bodies Lydia remained rigid. Soon, a soft snore came from Brother Matthew. Though she was not sure, she sensed that James was still awake. The combined warmth of James and Brother Matthew began to thaw Lydia's frozen limbs. For better or worse, she was Luke now. She would have to trust these two men, especially James. He knew who she really was. The only man she had ever trusted was Father Peter, to trust another was going to be hard work for her.
*
They had had two cold, though clear days, of travel when they arrived in Dover. The smell of salt was pungent. Gulls soared and mewed above. A fine mist of water shot up from the dock. The waves were too choppy for the ferry to run. In the northwest dark clouds scudded. James said, “We best go to the Great Gull. No good standing here.” He clucked to Moses Aaron. They traveled down a rutted street.
Lydia noticed that the buildings of Dover were either burned, new or being rebuilt. Five years ago, King Philip of France had dispatched 10,000 men across the Strait into Dover. A battle had erupted and fire had spread. Many had died and the town had been left in ruins. Since Pope Boniface's recent orchestration of marital alliances between the royal families of King Edward and King Philip a brittle peace had settled over Dover. It was still a dangerous place. King Edward's knights and foot soldiers patrolled the streets. James and Brother Matthew exchanged wary glances.
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The street ahead was blocked. The lilt of women’s voices rose in the air. What? It was Candlemas! How had she forgotten this her favorite Holy Day? Silently Lydia sang with the women:
If Candlemas be fair and bright
Come Winter, have another flight.
If Candlemas bring clouds and rain,
Go Winter, and come not again.
Last year, dressed all in white, she along with the rest of the female population of Father Peter's church had paraded through the streets of Southampton with candles aloft. The special candles were made of Aunt Rachel's bees finest wax.
The singing came nearer. Everyone stopped. Around the corner the singers appeared in white wool dresses. Lydia longed to be among them, but disguised as a boy she could not. Boys did not join the procession of the Virgin Mary’s Purification. How beautiful their candles looked, like gleaming swords. She touched the box of candles beneath her pilgrim’s robe, the box, never left her person. She tugged on James sleeve. “May we go to Candlemas?”
Without waiting for his answer Brother Matthew leapt off the cart. James nodded, "Aye, keep close to that daft monk. I will meet you at the inn. ”
Lydia glanced down the street. Brother Matthew was close behind the women who were entering a chapel. She scrambled down and hurried after him. When she reached Brother Matthew, he asked, “Where is James?”
"He went to the Great Gull.”
Brother Matthew shook his head. “I fear James is quite close to being a pagan. Nothing should interfere with the observance of the Holy Calendar.”
Lydia did not respond. She followed Brother Matthew into the church. It was an unimpressive musty box. The windows were small and let in almost no outside light. The darkness accentuated the flickering of the candle flames on the altar. Between the chancel and the nave was wooden rood screen. Tied to the screen was a adolescent girl with greasy matted hair. Her white dress was patched and dirty. In her hands she held an unlit candle. Her eyes were closed. When Lydia passed the girl, she opened her eyes. They were the most startling shade of sky Lydia had ever seen. Softly, she said to Lydia, "You are a girl."
Brother Matthew snickered, “Ah Luke, in time you will not be mistaken for the weaker sex.”
Indignation flared in Lydia. Weaker sex indeed! She would like to see any man squeeze a baby from between his legs.
“There now, lad, do not take offense.” Brother Matthew smirked. Lydia wanted to slug him, but they were in church. He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to a seat near the front.
From the shadows a young priest appeared. His eyes traveled first to the girl and then to the congregation. His robes were tattered and he was barefoot. His voice rose and fell like music as he began the service. In memory Father Peter's voice replaced the young priest's. Last Candlemas the sunlight had shown down on Moder in their pew. How beautiful she had looked. It had been such a good day. Now, a year later...
As Lydia's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could make out the carvings on the rood screen. There were vines, roses birds and three figures, the Madonna, Christ crucified and Saint John. All were painted. Especial attention had been paid to the Madonna. The painting style was not the same as the others. Her skin tones were delicate and her eyes were luminous. It felt like at any moment she would speak.
A loud screech came the girl tied to the screen. Convulsions rocked the her body. She fell forward. The bands on her wrists stopped her from smashing into the paving stones. Spittle flew out of her mouth. No one in the congregation moved to help her. The priest did not even halt his recitation. The convulsions stopped. Slowly she opened her blue, blue eyes and looked at Lydia. The face of the statue Madonna seemed to hover over the girl's face. Was this a vision? Lydia had never had a vision before. The girl pointed her unlit candle at Lydia and said, “God is with you.”
Was He? Completely shaken by the intensity of the girl's eyes, Lydia covered her face with her hands. Even through her closed lids and upraised hands, she could feel the girl's gaze.
*
After the Candlemas service Brother Matthew bought three mementos. They were bits of rope with a wooden rose bead tied to each. Trembling from reaction and cold Lydia was unable to pin Brother Matthew's memento onto his pilgrim's robe. Impatiently he said, "Give it to me." He pinned it beside the scrap of blue from Saint Anne's.
The instant they stepped into the street a gust of cold wind hit. Lydia ducked her head and pulled down the brim of her pilgrim's hat. She followed close behind Brother Matthew. At the door of the Great Gull, they were met by a monk named Brother Laurence. He asked, “Was the service to your liking?”
With bright eyes Brother Matthew said, “Aye, the success of our journey was confirmed by a lunatic girl. She had a fit, then pointed right at Luke and told him that God is with him! It was surely a sign.”
Laurence nodded. “Indeed. Though Serena is given to fits, she can see what lies beyond our mortal realm. Some think she is possessed of a demon, but not Father John. He shelters her and cares for her. Come, you must be hungry.” He took their cloaks and led them to the dining area.
On the dining room wall above the hearth was painted a single sentence. Silently Lydia read it, Dixitque Dues: Fiat lux et facto est lux.*This was the first sentence she had ever written and read. The image of Sister Timothy filled her mind and steadied her.
At the table by the hearth, James sat. He motioned for them to join him. When Lydia and Brother Matthew were seated, Brother Matthew asked, "Have you ordered dinner?"
"Aye. Mutton stew."
Brother Matthew smiled hugely. "Good choice!" He shoved the latest momento across the table to James and said, "Here is your memento from Saint John's. You should have joined us. They had a painted wooden Madonna. She was lovely. The prettiest one I have ever seen."
A strange expression crossed James' face. He grabbed the memento, rose from the table and promptly left. Brother Matthew shook his head.
Lydia asked, "Where do you think he has gone?"
"Perhaps to see the painted Madonna." Brother Matthew leaned closer to Lydia and lowered his voice, "James used to have a sister. She ran off years ago. No one knows what became of her. My moder said the girl could paint and was quite good. Maybe she painted the Madonna."