Dormitory of Secrets

Chapter 15: Hilde loses an ally, finds some evidence. She seeks out the Bishop in his den of iniquity and comes away with more than she bargained for.

A zephyr carried scents from the orchards and herbariums nearby through the large doors of the barn, thankfully dissipating some of the funk of donkey hide, old straw and stale feed troughs. Hilde stood and filled her lungs.

The noises of the working day filtered up to the loft more strongly now that both Gráinne and Gobnait were gone. The impressions in the hay bales that Gobnait had used as an impromptu desk conjured an image of the scholar’s garret that the bookish nun wished for. A smile crept across Hilde’s face as she imagined a young Gobnait at the skirts of her mother, the Abbess of Kildare dreaming of the books, ink and parchments that may one day be hers.

I have a plan Gobnait had said. A very unclear, but promising statement.

Hopefully it meant that Gobnait was minded again to help Hilde toward getting her Mama released from the witch finder’s accusations.

Hilde stood at the top of the ladder, one hand on the top rung, as thoughts raced through her mind. The bed that the Reverend Mother had offered her in the barn lay behind her, not yet slept in, the mattress of straw still folded against the wall. It was only early that morning that she’d arrived and so much had happened, she’d not had a chance to even rest, let alone sleep.

Hilde pulled a piece of charcoal from her bag, taken from the Chief’s fire and began applying her disguise again. There was no sense in leaving anything here. Who knows where she’d sleep tonight?

Time was racing past. When she and Gráinne walked over to meet Gobnait the sun was high enough already despite the clouds that noon threatened. Bronach might still be languishing in the round room attached to the General Store that stood as Duncormac’s only gaol.

Surely they must feed her? It made no sense to have even a show trial with the main attraction starved to death just as the Brehon arrived to judge her.

It was all very nice that Gobnait had her plan, but the hints she’d dropped before leaving pointed more to research than action.

Let’s see how well they all have agreed on their story shall we?

What exactly Gobnait meant by that mysterious statement remained locked up inside the studious nun’s head. In stark contrast, the imminent threat posed by the Reverend Mother’s crystal clear direction hung over Hilde’s head like a hangman’s noose.

I lied, it’s true. Luiseach is not my sister, but I tried to say Sister Gobnait and Sister Luiseach are my teachers! Honestly!

Hilde’s cheeks reddened at the thought of the mistruths that had tumbled from her mouth, when she’d first appeared at the Prioress’ office this morning, her face blackened and disguised as a lad. The consequence of having a secret and wearing a disguise can be that you tell a mistruth with just an inflection. She’d never meant to be caught in such a tangled web.

Hilde sat on a bale of straw, pulled the cap onto her head, and began tucking all her curls up underneath it. She wished for the small silver mirror that hung on the wall in her home. Blaine Cottage, its solid walls seeming to be so safe one moment, only to be a trap the next. Bronach’s warnings to run, to avoid Jezabel and the clutches of her enablers by heading to the Chief’s had been apt advice.

But right now Hilde’s heart ached for the familiar walls of her place in the loft above their old hearth, the dry familiar scent of the clean thatch overhead. The pigs would be unfed! And the hens!

Hilde’s fists tightened, and her jaw set. Her mother, their home, their farm, all which now lay abandoned. For liars and cheats to take. Hilde’s eyes narrowed and a lump rose in her throat, rage competing with grief to overtake her.

It is so unfair that so many can keep secrets and tell lies, and go about behind a mask, such as Emma and Gráinne; such as the Bishop even. What was that letter that the Reverend Mother had shown her? Why had she asked Hilde to use her sharp young eyes to examine it in the light?

I’m thirteen and must not make up stories, but for adults it is fine?

Rage began to win out.

If there was any justice in the world, the Bishop’s lies would catch him and trip him up. And if Hilde could take the unspoken challenge that the Reverend Mother had given her, meet it, and shine a light into the man in black’s well of secrets then maybe that fate would come for him earlier rather than later.

Hilde slung her bag over her shoulder and put on Gáethán’s outsized coat. She kicked at the straw to cover the spots of ink, and foot steps that the three of them had left, then started down the ladder.

Hilde kept to the shadows as she threaded her way back through the hallways and skirted the cloisters of the Priory. Following the outside wall past the large chapel, the sun shone brightly on the limed walls and it seemed the eye of the Lord God himself looked down on her. A dark dot, a lie in her borrowed boys clothing, face blackened, against the white.