I amthe sister you seek. Come to Beverley. I will wait for you at St. John’s Well. Tell no one, for I am in grave danger.
From what Lucygathered by talking with the women who had made the pilgrimage to the well a day prior, they had visited the well, taken the waters, sure the saint watching over the well would grant them each a child, which made her heart ache for them. She hoped the waters would help them.
They told her that it was a spring with stone around it which marked it as a holy well. The women warned her the path was muddy from the rains and that she should leave an offering to St. John at the well. The clergy from Beverley Minster took care of the well, but no one was there during the day.
A monk would take them from the priory to the well and then he would return, leaving her to her contemplation.
When they arrived at the priory, its simple yet elegant beauty struck Lucy as she stood still for a moment, taking it in. Constructed of grey stone walls with tall arched windows, the priory stood sentinel over the land.
They showed Thomas and the men to a communal room where they would sleep on the floor on straw pallets. There were a couple of stools along with a hearth, and two small windows let in a bit of air.
Luckily, there was a small private room for important guests, so Lucy and Margery would have their own space. Normally Margery would sleep with the other servants, but Lucy wanted her close just in case this whole thing turned into a big ole mess.
“I hope these accommodations are satisfactory, Lady Blackford,” Brother Matthew said. “Should you require anything during your stay here, you need only ask.”
“You are most kind. I am sure we shall be quite comfortable.”
The room was simple but clean, with two small beds, a table, and a window that looked out over the cloister gardens.
Margery followed Brother Matthew out as they had not known to bring their own provisions and bedding. She would go with two of the men to purchase what they needed in town.
As guests, the monks expected them to observe silence and respect the monastery’s rules and routines.
Lucy hoped her fabricated story would be enough to keep trouble at bay, though if trouble found them, she trusted Thomas and her guards with her life.
For now, all she could do was try and relax and be preparedfor whatever awaited her at the well tomorrow. Yet despite her fatigue from their journey, she tossed and turned all night.
Come morning, Lucy and the men enjoyed a simple meal of bread, cheese, and ale.
Thomas entered the refectory, a spring in his step at the possibility of facing bandits during their journey.
“The men are ready when you are, my lady. Brother Andrew waits to guide us to the well.”
Lucy nodded, steeling her nerves. “Very good. We shall leave shortly.”
By the time Lucy and Margery joined Thomas outside, Brother Andrew and two other monks waited in a mule-drawn cart.
The journey passed swiftly as they rode, Brother Andrew filling the silence with tales of pilgrims seeking cures and the miraculous healings they had experienced.
At last, the rutted path opened up into a small clearing. Before them stood a ring of stones surrounding a pool of clear water fed by a trickling spring.
Brother Andrew stopped the cart. “I shall go no further to allow you time alone at the well. We shall return for you in a few hours.”
She thanked him, and when he left, Thomas instructed the men to keep watch. Even if her story was fabricated, Lucy appreciated having them nearby, keeping her safe.
Approaching the well, Lucy peered into its depths. According to legend, this sacred water held curative powers for those who sought it with faith. Yet her purpose here today was not to be healed, but to hopefully reunite with the sister she had lost long ago.
Lucy sent up a silent ‘sorry’ before she took the waters inorder to keep up the pretense, but she figured that asking for her sister to be safe counted as seeking help from the well.
The grass was damp as she tucked her cloak underneath her and sat, waiting. Surely, whoever had her sister would have a lookout, so they’d know when she arrived? To keep from fidgeting, Lucy tucked her hands in her skirts.
Nervous, she kept glancing around the field and into the woods beyond, searching for any sign of movement. When she didn’t see anyone, she took three small coins from a purse on her belt and cast them into the water. The women had said it was customary to leave an offering.
Hands clasped, Lucy whispered to the water. “Please, let her be here and safe. Help me find my sister.”
Time passed as she waited, but no one appeared, and as the minutes turned to an hour, then two, her hopes dimmed, her heart heavy, that she had been tricked. But why? And by whom?
The field and woods remained silent, aside from birdsong and the whisper of wind through the trees. Deflated, Lucy rose and walked over to Margery and Thomas.
