Chapter 24Wimborne Abbey, 726 AD
Sefled, whose demeanour was unhurried, surprised Cynethryth by skittering into the preparations room like an untethered foal.
“What's amiss, sister?”
Sefled flushed and looked guilty: it was in her character, in spite of her impeccable conduct.
“Oh, sister, it's the prioress–”
“What? Is she ill?”
“No, not her. The prioress sent me with a message.”
Cynethryth's exasperation overcame her fondness for her assistant.
“Well, out with it, girl! I don't have all day for your nonsense.”
The assistant infirmarian blushed again and stammered, “S-sorry, sister, but Prioress Quenburga sends word that our abbess has taken to her bed.”
“The abbess?”
“Ay. The prioress says she's been badly for three days.”
“Three days and she didn't send for me! I must go to h
