The Bishop's Heart

The Bishop's Heart - A maenad tale -

"Save us!"

The cry rang through the stone corridors of St Agathe's nunnery, rousing the sisters from their quiet contemplations, pious readings and welcome sleep. Some cowered at the disturbance and started praying if they were not already doing so, begging their lord's protection in case their refuge was under attack.

In her cell, Sister Edithna finished her prayer to her own god, Dionysus, and chafed the circulation back into her arms and legs. The stiffness in her limbs was not caused by long hours of kneeling—the lord of wine and theatre didn't require his followers to kneel at prayer—but by the icy conditions of her cell.

A hammering at the door startled her, accompanied by words between frightened gasps. "Sister! There's evil come!"

Edithna slipped the gold ring from the forefinger of her right hand and opened the door to a wide-eyed novice. "What is it, Marie? Be quiet lest Mother Gertrude hear you."

The girl stared, panting. "There's...there's..."

"Yes, you said. Evil. But I doubt even the devil himself would be out on a night as cold as this."

"No...not the infernal one." The girl swallowed and took a deep breath. "There are men here."

Worse than the devil to this innocent girl.

"Come in." She pulled Marie into her cell and made her sit on the cot. "Now talk sense. What's happened?"

It was a few moments before Marie could speak again. "Soldiers have brought a wounded man to the infirmary. A monk."

Although the nunnery was a day's journey west of Rennes, travellers seldom sought shelter there on the way to or from Vitré or Montfort. Most chose the monastery a few miles further west, but a wounded man would be brought to the nearest place of assistance.

Marie leaned in close and lowered her voice, but fear still crept in. "He's badly injured. I saw a wound in his side. So much blood."

Before seeking sanctuary in the nunnery, Edithna had seen more blood than any innocent person should. Her home town of Fougères had been attacked by Carolingians invading from the east forty years ago. The massacre had left few alive. Only by good fortune had she been able to find refuge here in St Agathe's.

"I see. A monk you say? Perhaps he was attacked by bandits." She left the cell and strode towards the infirmary.

Little Marie followed at her heels, clutching Edithna's robe so as not to trip over in the dark corridor. "I saw his wounds. Horrible they were. He's been torn open."

"A wild animal, then. I'll attend him. Go to your dormitory now and pray to God no bandits may enter the walls of St Agathe's, and no wolves either."

"Not a wolf!" The girl shivered. "The phantom!"

"Enough of that!"

"They say he wanders the forest, killing all who cross his path."

"Be quiet! Don't suggest that to the other novices, if you value peace and order."

No good would come of hysteria; Marie's fears needed to be stifled before they spread. The nuns, sheltered from the world, rightly feared the supernatural.

After the girl had gone, Edithna continued down the dark corridors to the infirmary. No need for a candle, since her eyes penetrated the darkness like a cat's. All true followers of a deity possessed an ability that set them apart from other mortals. Her night-vision attracted the attention of Dionysus, who had made her one of his maenads many years ago.