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endowed and have suffered a decrease in donations of late. We survive on the sale of pilgrimage badges and the hope that penitents will leave gifts when they visit the small shrine in the chapel across the way. I cannot afford scandal.”
    Eleanor expressed sympathy.
    Despite this woman’s disagreeable manner and troubling arrogance, Thomas conceded that Prioress Ursell was right. The concern she expressed for the welfare of her nuns was frank enough to be sincere. Were any to find cause to suspect that this nun’s death might be self-murder, for instance, the entire priory would be blamed.
    “I would therefore ask that you forgo any idle speculation on what might have happened here. After observing the body, I have concluded that our dear sister lost her footing and fell over the edge. There is absolutely no reason to believe otherwise.” Ursell motioned to Father Vincent. “Do you not remember? Only yesterday, someone complained that our bell had not rung for Compline.”
    He blinked as if confused, then nodded with enthusiasm.
    She looked back at Eleanor. “Sister Roysia overheard the criticism. I am certain she was in the bell tower to make sure the bell-ringer had not fallen victim again to self-indulgent sleep. Her death is unfortunate, but nothing other than an accident should be concluded from the facts.”
    Thomas wanted to ask whether the bell-ringer had been in the tower when the accident occurred, but he knew he would be rebuked rather than given a satisfactory answer.
    “We are disinclined to chatter,” Eleanor replied in an even tone. “Surely you did not mean to suggest otherwise.”
    The monk noticed that Prioress Ursell’s lips now began to tremble. Perhaps she had just recalled that Prioress Eleanor’s eldest brother stood high in the king’s favor? Offending such a woman would not be prudent if Ursell cared about the future prosperity of Ryehill Priory. Thomas suppressed a smile. His prioress was gaining the edge in this unpleasant encounter.
    “Of course, I did not,” Ursell replied, her speech hoarse with emotion. “I merely ask that you not speak of this sad event when others are near enough to hear.”
    Eleanor shook her head as if amazed that the prioress had even given voice to such a peculiar request. “Is that all?” The words may have been spoken as a question, but there was no doubt that the prioress of Tyndal had just concluded this audience.
    Ursell opened her mouth as if to say more, then seemed to reconsider and simply murmured assent.
    “Brother Thomas and I shall go to the chapel next door and dedicate our time to praying for Sister Roysia’s soul.”
    The priest spun around and stared. “That is most compassionate, my lady! Your charity on behalf of our dear sister is commendable, but do not further delay your journey back to Tyndal. Your own flock must long for your prompt return. Spend the little time you have left here contemplating the glory of the great shrines.” He cleared his throat. “Our Shrine of the Virgin’s Lock is, of course, worthy of your favor.”
    Thomas was surprised that Father Vincent had finally torn himself away from his profound reflection, not to criticize but to express an ardent concern for the needs of those in a distant priory. The anomaly was quite inexplicable.
    “A few hours on our knees, pleading with God to treat her with mercy, is insignificant compared to the time she must suffer in Purgatory. As guests here, we believe it our unquestioned duty to do so. The act is such a small mercy.” Eleanor smiled.
    “Since she was not one of your nuns, you are very kind.” Ursell looked at the priest, her eyes glittering with desperation. “Perhaps Father Vincent can guide you through the remaining hours of your intended penance to include this particular charity. Our sister’s soul will benefit, and you need not remain here longer than you had wished.”
    “You speak of hours , Prioress Ursell. I thought to be here for several days