He rang the bell of the abbey and after a few moments his summons was answered. A small flap in the thick oak door opened and a thin cowled face, examined him severely. Recognized, he was admitted and followed sorrowfully after the sister.
    Everything was done in respectful silence and he saw his mother’s body laid in peaceful rest in the tiny cell. He knelt to her and stretched out his hand to place it atop her gathered ones. Time had ravaged the features he loved so well. His grief was the more for she never allowed him to visit her in the fifteen years of her retreat and he felt now he would never know where she had secreted his brother. He smoothed her hands with his own and said softly.
     “Mother, my dear mother, it did never have to be thus.” His heart heavy and sore. Behind him there was movement and he turned his head to its source. The mother of the abbey said nothing as she entered quietly but he had heard her skirts swish against the stone floor, his head inclined slightly toward her and he asked. “Was it peaceful?”
     “Yes, in her sleep.” Her sober response. He nodded and rose to his feet. Still quiet he stood for a moment in contemplation and then said.
     “I will take her home now.” And he thought, now she will return home and stay forever. The mother said nothing more, even as he glanced to her, then he sighed and quit the room. His men followed after him and prepared to carry his dead away from the abbey. For the rest of the way home he spoke nothing to his men, they understood and kept their peace, allowing him his grief.
     Andre did grieve but not just for the dead, he mourned for the lost brother that he now may never see again. His mother had gone to her death, never relenting her decision to leave their home and taking with her the secret of his brother's whereabouts. Not one time had she received him when he had visited, even when he bore her the news of his marriage no, not even when he had fetched her the news of her husband's death. She was never home to him, nor his father and kept her retreat in high sanctity.
     At home, at Bacala, his daughter waited and he felt the thought of that a soft balm to his heart. Estelle his sweet child, the remains of a love match to his long dead wife. Within five years of their marriage a fever had lost him a devotion he could not replace and left him with a small daughter to raise alone. A daughter who bore the most striking resemblance to the mother he was about to lay to rest. She had been a comfort to him as she grew, seeing those features he loved so much develop before his eyes. Henri had favored his mother too but now he may never see his face again. He rode home his heart heavy with grief and loss, his mind dull with the knowledge that he had not only lost his mother but with her passing, any possible hope of recovering his brother. He felt he not only failed himself but his father also and he wondered if the sore breach that had wounded their family would ever now be healed.

     Henri Bacala walked his tall body to the Prior's study. He had seen the traveling friar from his cell watched his slow progress over the stretch of meadow along the narrow strip of pathway. The friar’s advancement had held him riveted as if he somehow knew that something pertaining to him was about to occur and he readied himself for the Prior's summons. Outside the door he paused for only a moment then scratched lightly. He was summoned to enter and did so. Sure enough the traveling Friar was within his head bowed meekly as the prior finished his words to him, Henri stood quietly waiting.
     “We thank you brother Anselm for your hasty action in this matter. If you will make your way to the kitchen you will find refreshment there.” The prior dismissed the friar who glancing once at Henri left them alone, then the prior turned to appraise his best student thoughtfully, as he spoke Henri steeled to hear what he half dreaded half hoped for. Finally after exhaling a long resigned breath the prior said. “Henri, I have here a written message for you, you may take it to your cell to read it privately.” And then he knew, and knew also that the Prior was fully aware of the contents of the letter......

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A challenge awaits two families, a choice
to do the good of God or the will of man.
Revenge turns to rape and murder,
and all under the cloak of holiness.

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