The Prince and the Nun Page 3

  Sister Helena was still singing when heavy feet sounded on the stairs. Sergeant Grossner came first. His cap tucked under his arm, he tried to walk on his toes, a difficult thing in his heavy boots. He led the women to the far corner of the room, and they all waited respectfully for Sister Helena to finish. They crossed themselves as she ended.

  Therese had watched them come in. She recognized most of them. The peasant women all wore the traditional clothes of the valley; a short, layered black skirt and heavy, embroidered waistcoat. The married ones had coloured headscarves, but the maids all wore their hair down. There were two black-haired Jewish girls, and they wore white headscarves and long skirts. Another had the features and dark skin of a gypsy; she stood apart from the others.

  Lastly, Mefist came up the stairs. He did not sound breathless but complained nonetheless. “It’s a long way up from the courtyard. I must have a word with the Count next time I see him. He should buy a lift. Is everyone here?” He counted the women as they stood respectfully with their hands together and their eyes lowered. Therese looked anxiously at her nuns. They still did not understand.

  “Very good. A fine bunch of beautiful ladies. I expect you are wondering why you are here. I shall explain. This place”—he waved his hand around the room—“does not look very much at the moment, but with a little time and some assistance from you, it will change. By the end of the week, this will be a bordello for officers, and you are going to live and work here.” He clasped his hands in front of him and watched their reaction.

  For a moment, the news passed through the group of women like a breeze through willow leaves; then one of the young married women opened her mouth and screamed.

  The nuns were frozen at their table. Sister Helena was still standing after her singing, but with her hand at her mouth. The others stared at Therese in disbelief. Now all the women were sobbing and trying to ask each other what was going to happen and why to them.

  “Help them!” croaked Therese. The nuns, with tears starting in their eyes, rushed into the crowd to help the women. To hold their hands and put arms around their shoulders. The two Jewesses were crying into each other’s hair. The gypsy girl stood apart, dry-eyed and uncertain. Perhaps she did not understand what was happening.

  Maria came to Therese and knelt at her feet. She lifted her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mother Therese, please stop him.” Therese put her hand on Maria’s shoulder. She could do nothing to help.

  Mefist stood like a black shadow. At that moment, he looked the very incarnation of evil.

  A stocky woman burst from the crowd and threw herself at his feet. “Your Honour! Your Honour!” She scrabbled at his boots, bending to kiss them. “Your Honour, my baby. I must go back. I must feed her.” She knelt up and opened her waistcoat. Her large breasts swung wildly under a grey cotton blouse, wet and stained. “Look, my milk is ready for her. I must go back. As God protects me, I must go to my baby!”

  “Stop!” commanded Mefist to the room. Everyone looked at him, and the noise fell to quiet sobbing. For a moment, he looked at Therese as she sat at the head of the table. “Mother Therese, are you sure you can do this?”

  Therese swallowed. She looked at the kneeling Maria. She looked at the woman at Mefist’s feet. At the women clinging to each other and to her nuns. Did she really have a choice?

  She turned back to Mefist. “I—” Her voice cracked. “I must talk with my nuns.”

  “No,” he said sharply. “You are in charge. They will do what you tell them. You must decide.” Then he relaxed and moved towards her. “Apart from that, if there is any question about what you are doing, it is far better that only you should commit the sin. Give them no choice and their souls are safe, I believe.”

  She looked at him coldly. This man had the devil in him. “I have decided. Now give me a moment to talk to my Sisters.”

  The nuns came back to the table and sat with their eyes lowered. The village women watched, sobbing quietly. Therese swallowed and spoke carefully. “Sisters, I cannot allow this to happen. I have done my best to divert the Captain from this course, but he will not listen. For the moment he is our Caesar, and we must bow our necks to his rule.

  “In a moment, I will give you a command that will suspend your vows and put you outside our order. It is a great evil, and I take it on myself only. By doing this, we can prevent a greater evil, and these women can return to their homes. Only Sisters Simone and Maria will be exempt. Sister Simone because she cannot bear this burden in honesty, and Sister Maria because she is a little older than the rest of us. Sister Simone, come here, child.”

  Sister Simone came to her. She had a simple, clear face with sky-blue eyes. “Mother, why are you sending me away? I am a good nun.”

  “Of course you are, child. You are an example to us all. I am not sending you away. It is the others that must go away. I want you to go to Sister Brigitta and ask her to come to my office. Can you do that? Then you can stay with your Sisters in the Convent. Go now.”

  She reached up to pat the girl’s head and send her on her way. “Go to Sister Brigitta,” she repeated to herself as she left the table.

  Maria came to her without being called and again knelt beside her chair. “Please, Mother Superior, let me stay. Don’t send me away from you. Let me take Sister Simone’s place.”

  Therese was surprised. “Why do you want to stay?”

  “I don’t want to leave you, Mother Superior. It’s a good thing. I want to help you and my Sisters.”

  “Are you sure you want this, Maria? You won’t be able to change your mind once you have started.” Therese’s heart was touched as Maria nodded her upturned face. It felt good to know she had at least one unconditional friend. “Very well, if you wish it.” Maria returned to her seat.

  “Mother Superior?” Sister Agata asked for her attention. “Mother Superior, will you stay with us?”

  “Of course, child. Do you think I would let you suffer alone? We will all do this together. We will pray together, we will help each other, we will show the Army how true Christians act, and maybe at the end of this war, better times will relieve us of most of our burden.

  “Now kneel, and we will say the rosary together. Then you can show these unfortunate women back to their homes.”

  The Sisters pushed back their chairs and knelt. The village women all knelt with them. Even the two Jewesses knelt and bowed their heads. Their prayers might be different, but their relief was shared. Mefist remained standing through the familiar prayers.

  Therese dismissed them. “Off you go, Sisters. Take the ladies down past the wagon park; I don’t want the soldiers shouting at them. Take them all the way down to the halfway shrine before you come back.”

  “Yes, Mother Superior,” they chorused.

  The village women started to move off. One tall girl with long black hair and a pale complexion came and stopped by Therese. “Thank you, Mother Superior. It wouldn’t have mattered too much to me—not that I want to lie with any of these pigs—but thank you for the other women and their families. We’ll tell the village what you’ve done. They’ll be angry for sure. The men won’t want to think of what these soldiers are doing to our nuns. We’ll tell them what you did for us.”

  “What’s your name, child?”

  “I’m Jana, the butcher’s daughter. Don’t you remember me?”

  She vaguely remembered the butcher’s little girl. “Of course, but you are a woman so soon. Go with God, my child.”

  “Oh, ladies,” called Mefist after the departing nuns. “I shall expect you back here immediately after dinner. There’s work to be done and no time to lose.”

  Therese was left alone with him.

  “Why did you send Sister Simone away?” he asked. “She looked the prettiest of them all.”

  “Yes, but she’s simple, almost an idiot. Her family sent her here so we could protect her from the world. It wouldn’t be right to let men use her.

  “You knew what would
happen, didn’t you? You knew I couldn’t sit by.”

  Mefist grinned like a boy. “I had faith in you, Therese. I know you are kind and generous. You’re a good woman.”

  “A fine way you picked for me to show it! God alone knows what the Bishop will say when he hears about all this.”

  “I know perfectly well what he will say. There’s not much difference between the Church and the Army, you know. You’ll explain to him, and he’ll say, ‘I’ll have to leave that to your own conscience.’ Then afterwards he’ll do his best to disown you, mark my words.”

  Chapter 5

  After dinner, Mefist came to lead her back up to the servants’ hall. Now the decision had been made, she felt better. Nervous and excited for the future, but happy at the thought of the village women back in their homes.

  Mefist looked happy too. “You know, I’m very pleased I’ve got your girls to work with. Grossner says he picked the best he could find in the village, but it would have been a struggle to do anything with them. Just like most of the men we get as soldiers; the most you can hope for is dumb obedience.

  “At least most of your girls are ladies, and intelligent. You can’t enjoy love-making without some education and intelligence, and if you are not enjoying it, your lover won’t either.”

  “I’m sure you know much more about such things than I, Prince,” she said sourly.

  “Therese, my dear, let’s be friends. If we work together, we can make this a happy place for the girls. The best bordellos are like a home. The men are pleased to come and relax in them, and the girls are pleased to see them. If we get it wrong, the men will just hurry through, and the girls will suffer. They’ll feel as if they were in prison.”

  “Prince, you’re not going to win me over to your way of thinking. I can’t imagine how I came to be involved in such a foul thing. Prostitution is wrong, and that’s all that should be said about it.”

  Mefist smiled. “What about your patron saint? Mary Magdalene? She was no better than a lot of girls, as I understand it. No, I’ve put that in the wrong way. She was a good woman, but she might have been at home here, yes?”

  All Magdalene sisters knew how to counter that myth. “Nothing in the bible says The Magdalene was a prostitute. Anyway, do you think the Church would pray to someone like that? So it can’t be true, or she wouldn’t be a saint.”

  “Therese, Therese, that argument is chasing its tail. We’ll make her a saint because Jesus loved her, and because she’s a saint she can’t have been a prostitute. No, it’s precisely because the Church spends so long telling everyone that she wasn’t a prostitute that I think she probably was.

  “Look at the society she lived in! Any single woman who goes around washing men’s feet with her hair in a society like that is no pillar of virginity. You should pay more attention to Jesus and forget the old men at the top of the Church with their obsessions about women and sex. Jesus didn’t mind—he loved Mary no matter how she earned her living, and so should you!

  “What are you going to call the girls, by the way? They’re not going to be nuns for a while; are they still Sisters?”

  “Ah, I hadn’t thought about that. I suppose they’re still my sisters, no matter what, but I can’t let them dress as nuns anymore.” A thought struck her. “I can’t dress as a nun any more. I can’t let them call me ‘Mother Superior’ either, and we can’t go to chapel with the other Sisters; we’ll have to use the visitors’ gallery. That’s terrible. Oh dear, I don’t know how we’ll feel.”

  She felt privately grim at the thought of what Sister Brigitta must be feeling. She had said nothing when she heard of her appointment as acting Mother Superior, no sympathy, no gratitude; she had just closed the elation up inside her. She must have believed she would never get the promotion she craved, because she came from a poor background and had only the most basic education. Now she would already be thinking about how she could use Therese’s difficulties to usurp the position permanently.

  At least Sister Brigitta would not receive the role of castle steward. That stayed with Therese, and she would be dealing with the Army and Mefist. Sister Brigitta would not be cock of the farmyard yet, just acting Mother Superior. She shook her head and put Sister Brigitta out of her mind. She had more important things to worry about.

  Mefist and Therese emerged into the servants’ hall to find the girls already waiting for them around the table. They got to their feet and stood, eyes down and hands clasped in front of them. Mefist looked at them for a moment, then clapped his hands sharply and said “Boo!” Therese jumped with the others.

  Mefist was smiling and happy. “Sit down, sit down, my friends, and cheer up! What’s done is done, and now we must make the best of it! Let’s talk of what we’ve got to do. Make room for me, I’ll sit in the middle.”

  Mefist squeezed himself onto one of the long benches. “First things first. What shall we drink? Therese, can we order some wine? Four bottles perhaps? We can always ask for more if we need it.”

  Sister Anna jumped up. “I can fetch it, Mother Superior.”

  Mefist looked at Therese curiously. She swallowed. “Anna, my dear, I don’t think you can call me Mother Superior anymore.”

  “So?” asked Mefist. “What can she call you now? What will you call her, Anna?”

  Anna dropped her eyes and blushed. “I don’t know, Your Honour.”

  “Dear oh dear!” exclaimed Mefist. “What are we going to do with you all? I can’t have you calling me or any of the other officers ‘Your Honour.’ We get that from the soldiers all day, and I don’t think I could stomach jumping into bed with someone who calls me ‘Your Honour.’ You can call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Prince’ when you have to, but my real friends call me Mefist.

  “What are you going to call Therese? I don’t suppose ‘Sergeant’ would be appropriate; can you imagine it?” The girls giggled at that idea. “The traditional name for someone in her position is ‘Madam,’ but I don’t think her dupka is fat enough for ‘Madam.’ What do you think?”

  The girls were looking at the table. They did not want to think of Therese’s bottom.

  “Oh cheer up, you miserable bunch! I think you should call her ‘Mistress.’ Would that suit you, Therese?”

  She realized what Mefist wanted to do, and decided to help him. “I don’t know, Mefist. Isn’t a mistress what gentlemen like you keep in a city apartment to give you some amusement when you are up from the country?”

  “Ah, my little secret is out! Never mind. Still, mistress is also the female of master. So try again, Little Anna!”

  Anna squeezed out, “Please, Mistress, shall I fetch the wine?”

  “Thank you, my child. Agata shall go with you to help with the glasses.”

  “Now look,” said Mefist to the remaining girls, “We’re in a hurry. By the time the General gets here, we must have everything clean and comfortable. We’ll have our own little bar right here, with coffee and wine and beer and cocktails. This table will have to go; we need small tables, and comfortable chairs, and a gramophone, and a piano. Can anyone play the piano?’

  “Sister Helena can play.”

  “And she can sing. She’s got a wonderful voice.”

  “Oh yes?” said Mefist with interest. “Which one of you is Sister Helena? Oh yes, I remember you from this afternoon. You sang very beautifully. Do you know any modern songs?”

  Helena blushed and looked away. “I could try to learn, Your– Prince.”

  Mefist clapped his hand and looked displeased. “Ladies, ladies! This really will not do! You must speak to me properly, man to man. Or should I say, woman to man. Now look at me, Helena!”

  Reluctantly she lifted her eyes to his. He held them for a moment and then smiled. She started to smile and to blush. “Please–” she managed and looked down again.

  “Helena!” admonished Therese, but Mefist held up his hand.

  “Don’t be so hard on her, Therese. She’ll soon get used to it. Now Helena, just look at me, s
mile, and say, ‘I could learn, Mefist.’ Go on, you try.”

  The idea was painful for Helena. Her face flushed, her eyes went wet, and her smile looked more like a grimace. “I could try to learn, please, Mefist.”

  Mefist applauded, and Therese and the others joined him. “There, I’m not so horrible, am I?” No one answered, so he looked around. “Maria, I’m not so horrible, am I?”

  Maria was made of stronger stuff. “I believe we’re all frightened of you, Captain Mefist.”

  “Nearly, but you can’t possibly call me Captain when we’re en famille like this. Try again.”

  “I believe we’re all frightened of you, Mefist.”

  “So you should be!” He held both arms up over his head, waggled his dangling fingers like the claws of a movie monster, and said in a creaking voice, “I am the wicked Imperial Army come to ravage all the poor Sisters of Magdalene.” They all laughed at him. “But I’m also Mefist, and when the General’s not here, my friends will call me Mefist.

  “Listen, you may not believe that I am here to take care of you, but you can certainly trust Therese. She really cares for you, or she would still be Mother Superior, and I would be up here trying to persuade Sister Brigitta to smile sweetly. Thank God for that mercy!” The thought of Sister Brigitta smiling brought another laugh.

  “Please, Mefist,” asked Maria, “What will you make us do?”

  “Girls, I want you to understand this. I have a duty to carry out, and you will help me do it. The Army has ordered it. Therese has ordered it, and now it’s a fact. Of course you don’t like the idea; who would? Still, accepting the inevitable is the difficult part. After you’ve done that, life will be easy.

  “Most of the officers are pleasant young men, not hard-hearted ogres like me. They’re full of high spirits, and they may be dead or shot to pieces tomorrow, or next week, or next month. They are a little frightened and lonely, and what they want most of all is a place to be happy. A place with the things that young men love; wine, singing, and, of course, friendly girls. So that’s your job, to make them happy.