To Wear the White Cloak

One Paris. Thursday, The kalends May (May 1), 1147; 30 Iyyar, 4907. The feast of Saint Philip, apostle, who had four daughters, all prophetesses. Primo hoc ipsum quod cum plurimi judices viri in Israel fuisse referantur, de nullo illorum dicitur, quia propheta fuerit, nisi de Debbora muliere. First of all, of the many male judges in Israel who are referred to, it is said of none of them that they were prophets, only of the woman Deborah. Hrabanus Maurus Commentary on the Book of Judges It came as a shock to Catherine that the children had forgotten what their house looked like. "Is it that one, Mama?" James pointed at every gate as they made their way through the twisty streets of Paris, toward the Gre, on the north bank of the Seine. "No, James." Catherine patted her son's tousled curls. "Ours has the brass dragon that your father made. Remember? You lift its nose to sound the bell." "Oh, of course," James said, his face wrinkled with the effort of imagining it. "We've been gone over a year, Catherine," Edgar reminded his wife. "After all that time in Trier, we're lucky James and Edana can even remember how to speak French." "We stayed too long." Catherine sighed. She buried her face in James's hair as she fought to keep the tears from starting again. They had planned to come back in spring as soon as the roads were cleared of winter debris and the new baby was strong enough to travel. But the winter winds had carried a fever that took the month-old child between one dawn and the next. Catherine had been sick, as well, and her grief at the death of little Heloisa had made her recovery slow. For weeks she had refused to consider returning to Paris and leaving the tiny grave alone in a foreign land. It had taken the scorn of her sister, Agnes, now married to a German lord, to recall her to the duty she owed her remaining family. Catherine had thought that the rift between Agnes and herself had been mended when the family had come to save Agnes from being tried for murder, but marriage and security had brought back some of her sister's more unpleasant traits, among them an intolerance for emotional displays. "You think that you're the only woman who ever lost a child?" she had told Catherine. "You have two healthy ones left. Be grateful for that and stop this moping. James and Edana need you more than the baby does. She's in Heaven now, after all." "What do you know?" Catherine had snapped back. "You've never had children." "I've never studied theology either, but I know it's a sin to grieve immoderately, and that's what you're doing," Agnes had replied firmly. The fight that ensued had shaken Catherine out of her deep pain more than all the kindness of her friends could. Fury at her sister's coldness pulled her from melancholia at last. Agnes's scorn made her realize that it was time to return to life. It was fortunate that Catherine didn't see Agnes's expression as she stormed from the room, or catch Edgar hugging Agnes in thanks. Instead, she went back to their house in town determined to prove to her sister that she wasn't being excessive in her grief. So they had decided to come home. * * * Edgar was walking beside his horse, leading the way. His sister, Margaret, was riding and doing her best to keep three-year-old Edana from tumbling off in her excitement. Catherine watched them as closely as she could whileNewman, Sharan is the author of 'To Wear the White Cloak', published 2003 under ISBN 9780812584349 and ISBN 0812584341.