It was 1464 and the War of the Roses was raging on in England. Nineteen-year old Ned Ingram, fighting on the side of York, had just survived his third battle. The fact that he was on the winning side was of little comfort to him. He longed to go home and forget the sights, sounds and smells of war.
One day they set up camp in a field that was near a convent. That night many of Ned’s comrades got drunk and ran off to look for mischief. Ned, however, stayed behind and consumed half a bottle of ale; eventually drifting off to sleep.
The next day there were rumors that the nearby convent had been broken into the night before. Some said it was the same gang who had snuck out for a night of debauchery.
Ned had heard of soldiers breaking into convents to assault nuns before. He wasn’t shocked by the rumor but the thought of it had always sickened him. Someone said that they heard the nuns had run away after the attack, but didn’t know the details.
Ned wondered if the convent was compltetely abandoned. He thought that if there were any who had remained behind, he should check on them and offer to have a physician who traveled with them attend to the victims. And he had a spare dagger he could give them for protection.
The troops were set to move on later that day; as soon as fresh supplies could be delivered. But he had a few hours at least.
So Ned walked up the hill to the convent. The pilastered door was unbolted, presumably broken during the attack. He searched the first rooms and found no one and no evidence of violence. He entered the sanctuary and saw no one there either. He was about to search the sleeping chambers above when he decided to kneel before the alter and say a prayer.
He had seen so much destruction and bloodshed, it felt good to be in this holy place. He prayed for his family, all those he loved, and then he prayed that the battles would be over soon. He prayed that York would be victorious and that he would be free to return home soon. He said the prayer out loud since no one was there to hear, and was glad there was no one to see a tear stream down his face.
He stood up and turned to walk out of the sanctuary. Then suddenly he heard a noise. It sounded like it came from one of the pews. He drew his dagger and turned around.
“Show yourself!” he commanded.
No one appeared but he was sure he had heard something. Of course something could’ve just fallen on the floor. But he examined the pews one by one.
“What are you doing there!” he exclaimed as he saw a girl of about eighteen, crouched underneath the third pew. She stood up and he saw that she was dressed in holy attire, so he assumed she was one of the sisters. Her big, brown, frightened eyes stared steadily at the dagger in his hand. He quickly put it away, sorry to have distressed her, especially after what she must have already been through.
“Forgive me, sister. I only came to offer help to anyone who might still be here,” he said.
“I’m not one of the sisters,” she said in a soft trembling voice. “I live here with them. Or I did before they all left. My older cousin Mary, was a nun here when I was orphaned. The abbess was kind enough to let her take me in. I’ve been here ever since.”
“How long has it been?” he asked.
“Eight years. I was only ten years old at the time. I’ve never taken vows but I work hard and earn my keep cooking, mending; whatever needs to be done.”
“But if you’re not a sister, then why are you dressed like that?”
“The abbess thought it would be easier. As long as I live here I’m expected to behave as one of the sisters, even when I go to market.”
“Where are the others?” he asked.
“They’re gone— all of them— away last night,” she said, with a faraway look in her eyes. “They ran out of here into the night with the soldiers chasing after them.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” he asked.
“I hid when I heard one of the sisters yelling that the soldiers were here. I stayed under one of the pews until everyone had run away. I’ve been hoping the sisters, at least some of them, would come back. I thought they would’ve when they noticed I wasn’t with them if— if they are still alive,” she said as tears began to well in her eyes.
“What is your name?”
“Anne,” she said.
“Anne, I am Ned. You know this just happened last night. You shouldn’t worry that they will never return. They’re probably just waiting until they think it’s safe again. My commander is a good man. He’ll find a safe place for you.”
“No!” she cried. “No more soldiers. I would still be hiding from you if you hadn’t found me.”
“I?” he asked. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all you’ve been through. But no one has ever been afraid of me,” he laughed. “Look, I brought this dagger for you, for your protection.”
She looked at it with curiosity and hesitation. “I’ve never even held a weapon. I’m sure it would be quite useless in my hands,” she said.
“You may think so, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the horrors of war, it’s that when your life is in danger you can do things you never dreamed possible,” he said in a voice tinged with disgust.
“I’ll show you. Hold it like this,” he said as he placed it into her right hand just so. And if possible, come at them from behind. You’re a woman, so you shouldn’t think it cowardly. You need every advantage you can get.”
Anne laughed suddenly. “I suppose that’s true. You’ve been very kind. I’m glad to know that not all soldiers are like the ones who— who attacked the sisters.”
“I’m going outside to take a look about. You keep this in case of intruders,” he said, gesturing to the patina handled dagger.
Ned returned half an hour later. “I didn’t see anyone,” he said.
“That’s probably a good sign. Maybe they’ve gotten safely away,” she said.
“You look tired, Anne. Sit down here and rest,” he said gesturing to the pew next to them. They both sat down.
“Ned, I’ve been here for a long time. I can hardly remember what it’s like out in the world. Would you tell me a little about your life, what it was like before you joined the fighting?” she asked eagerly.
Ned smiled. “It wasn’t very exciting. I think about it every day. For some reason I mostly think about the little things. I think about the way the house would smell whenever Mother would make lamb stew, or the crumbling bell tower that the stone mason was always promising to repair. I think about the pond full of plump ducks that my little sisters couldn’t wait to run and feed as soon as their chores were done.
Anne smiled. “It sounds like a charming place,” she said.
“Would you like me to take you there?” he brightened.
“What?” laughed Anne.
“Well, you can’t live here by yourself. What will you do if no one comes back?”
She looked down for a moment. “If anyone’s left, they’ll come back for me. And if they don’t the priest will be along soon. He always comes on Thursday or Friday and this is Thursday.”
“I’ll stay here with you until he comes. I can’t stand to go back to battle anyway. It’s sickening, and I’ve done my share. If the priest doesn’t come today, you should let me take you back to my village. We’ll both run away from all this. You said you didn’t want to become a nun. You wanted to live out in the world again. This is your chance,” he argued.
“I don’t know. Let’s just see what happens,” she replied nervously.
It was obvious to both of them that there was something special between them almost from the moment they met. Though they were strangers it was easy somehow to imagine a future together.
They talked over the next hour or so about various things; Ned’s life in the village, Anne’s past, before she came to live at the convent and what her life had been like since. Ned knew the time was drawing near for his regimine to pull out and that he wouldn’t be with them. He didn’t care. The thought of running away with this pretty, kind, tender-hearted girl seemed like heaven compared with the abominations he’d have to face if he went back to battle.
Then suddenly they heard a horse galloping up to the entrance. They looked out the window.
“It’s Father Matthew,” she said.
Ned’s heart sank. “You could still go away with me. We could say I came to take you to relatives.”
Anne looked at him for a moment and then smiled weakly. “No, it would be madness to run away together when we’ve only just met. And besides, as much as you hate the thought of going back to the battlefield, you might never forgive yourself if you didn’t. And you’d probably have to move far away from your lovely little village to someplace where no one knew you. It’s better like this.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “I wish you the best,” he said before turning to leave.
Then he heard her say, “I’m sorry, Ned, truly.”
“So am I,” he said. “But not as much for what I have to go back to as what I’m leaving behind.”