Torino, Italia
"Not the cold. Please, not the cold!" Lucretia's hands bunched the dark linen of the Abbess' robes. Her knuckles were white with desperate strength and her eyes wild with some inner dread. "Not the cold... not the cold..."
"The poor child has been repeating the phrase over and again, as if in prayer, since our arrival, Mother Superior," the Prioress spoke gently. "You are safe now," her voice was soothing and she tried to gently disentangle the young woman's fingers from the Abbess' clothing.
"The voices come with the cold." Her fingers clutched at the Abbess' prayer beads. "The voices come and they do things, terrible things. It was not me, by all that is Holy, I swear that it was not me."
"Leave her be," the Abbess spoke firmly when the Prioress and another hospital sister moved to intervene. "The child finds comfort in the beads, do you not?" At Lucretia's frantic nod, the older woman removed the loop of beads from her girdle and placed it in the young woman's shaking hands. "We wish you to find peace here, child, and mercy, for such is the promise of our Saviour. Show her to the infirmary. A place is prepared for you in the warmth." Nodding now to the matrons of the hospital, the Abbess kissed Lucretia on the forehead.
Watching the Giovanni lady being led to the rooms over the kitchens, the Prioress let out a deep, uncertain breath. "What is it? What troubles your thoughts?" the Abbess' brows rose sharply at the uncharitable display of the Prioress.
Repressing a shudder, the Prioress crossed herself before trusting herself to speak. "Even behind our walls, there is no escape from the whispers that circulate around that family's name."
"Or the reality of the two dead suitors of the young lady," the Abbess added to her prioress' concerns. "Yes, I am fully aware of the tales the less pious spread about town."
"Do you think that she could have killed them?" Eyes were wide with caution and fear, and with a quick glimpse, the Prioress' eyes flickered over to the door that was now closed between them and the rest of the convent.
Unwelcome images rose in the Abbess' mind at the question. Slowly she shook her head and crossed herself even as her prioress had. "Nothing of this earth could have done such a thing. I remember seeing the bodies and preparing what remained of them for burial. On those days, I could well believe the charges that the family disturbed something unholy when on crusade," her eyes rested on the heavy oak door for a moment, "and now the daughter of the house pays for the sins of the fathers."
"I know that her family has tithed us well, but are we wise to accept such a charge within our walls, Abbess?" The doubts were finally given free voice, although the words rushed up as if galloping out before they could be reined in and suppressed once again.
"There is no doubt that her mind has been touched by something ungodly. It has been given to us by our Lady to wash the stain of darkness from the child's soul." The Abbess was firm in her convictions that such was the case. "Yet deep in my soul I fear that our humble convent cannot provide all of the solace the child's haunted mind needs. She will need a confessor better suited to exorcising demons than any the Abbot can provide at present." Her own concerns were voiced to the Prioress with a near superstitious dread that was an unforgivable affront to her faith, but by the same token, the Prioress was the one that would inherit all of her concerns should anything befall her person. "There is nothing for it, but to write to Roma for assistance."
