The Hag Knocks Twice

By Sarah Herbison

It was a quiet day in the abbey, the morning sun shone cooly on the dark flagstones and overgrown husks and thorns of the garden in winter. Brother Marcus sung as he tested the soil, as sighing in resignation as the frost held fast. He bundled his plain woolen robe around his thin body as he plodded up the staircase to the chapel. 

Marcus entered the small chapel, it was covered in stained glass depictions of the saints and a small cushion lay on bare stone past the half dozen pews. He lit a candle and began to chant his prayers when a cold wind blew out his candle, leaving him alone in the dark, save for the soft glow of the saints and angels in the stained glass. A sharp knock broke him from his trance.

Ah, fie this for a lark, he thought, before quickly crossing himself for the sinful thought of being annoyed. Marcus walked to the gate to find a haggard old woman about to knock a second time. She gazed at him with a weary expression, she was dressed in rags and behind her sat an old mule. For a second, her gaze turned cold enough to chill him to the bone.

“What brings ya here, Mam?” he asked politely.

“Sir, my village has been pillaged and I only seek refuge,” she said. Her voice sounded cracked and she let off a racking cough.

“Well, then come in. Yea look like something the cat dragged in if yea don’t mind me sayin’,” said Marcus. Truth be told, the abbey was closed to women, however, the hag was so old and feeble he severely doubted the Abbot would mind. He lead her into the kitchen and gave her some simple porridge with a hunk of bread.

“I hope this suites you , Man, we live a humble life here.”

The old lady trembled, tears in her eyes. “It is more kindness than any other place I have tried. I’ve tried stopping at Inns and they turned me away at the mere sight of me.” 

“We’re God’s house, we don’t turn away the sick, the poor or the stranger, you are welcome here as long as yea like. I do have to speak to the Abbot, but I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

“Thank you so very much Brother-”

“Marcus,” he nodded as he gave the old woman another bowl of porridge and bread, which she ate hungrily. 

After she supped they went down to the Abbot, the stern old man looked at the Hag in her robes. After hearing her story he polished his glasses and gave her a kindly smile.

“Whilst this abbey is sanctioned for Monks and our Brotherhood, I see no harm in you staying for a bit. Though, if you wish, our Sisters assist with the Cathedral and collect alms, you may be more comfortable with them.”

“No, thank you sir, I only need a few days to rest and to heal, and I will trouble you no longer,” the old woman said in a weary voice.

“As you wish. Marcus will show you where the spare room is. Keep note that our life is but a humble one, and we ask for silence during the day.”

“Thank you so much for your kindness sir.” The old woman was once again near tears.

“We are all welcome in God’s eyes, we are here to feed the sick and take in the worn. I am but his messenger,” said the Abbot as gathered up his keys and left the room.

Marcus showed the old woman to her room, it was simple with a straw bed and a crucifix and a tiny window. 

“The Abbot has called for a physician, that shall attend to your wounds, M’am,” said Marcus as he left the old woman in her room. As he did, a cold wind passed him chilling him to the bone.

The following week went by uneventfully, the Hag ate her humble meals silently. She did sit and listen to them chant, saying their voices soothed her rattled nerves. But other than her cold stare during choir practice, none of the monks noticed her. However, Brother Marcus could always feel her cold eyes on him, even when she was nowhere to be seen. The mule grew restless and nearly kicked him when he tried to feed the beast. 

The physician came and mended her wounds and at the end the week she packed up her things. The Abbot offered to find her a paladin to safeguard her journey, but the old woman stated that would not be necessary and thanked them for thier kindness.

“You will be rewarded tenfold for what you have given me, sir,” said the Hag, her cold eyes piercing through Marcus and the Abbot as she left the abbey. Her walk was much stronger and she appeared to be in good health. The Abbot only wished she would have stayed with the Sisters or took his offer of protection, but if the old lady thought it was fair for her to travel, who was he to argue. As she road her mule into the village, large, swirling storm clouds lay overhead. 

Half a fortnight passed and the Black Death gripped the village below. The plague started with the Innkeepers and grew to the great Cathedral. The stench permiated the air and villagers prayed and moaned for thier suffering to end as thier bodies blackened with sores.

The abbey, however, remained untouched. Even as pilgrims sought refuge and were treated by the physician, not one of the brother’s fell ill. In fact, their physician managed to heal a few of the stricken with frequent baths and packs of herbs. Brother Marcus was healthy but exhausted as his days were filled with finding fresh beds and medicines for the sick that sought refuge. 

As he was gathering wool blankets, Brother Marcus felt tice shoot through his blood. He wrapped one of the blankets around him as a loud knock sounded at the gate. He ran toward the gate to see the Hag standing on the other side, her icy glare cut straight through him.

“I said I would grant you a gift tenfold, you have the gift of a humble life when the world around you is stricken,” she said.

“I was only doing God’s work, as we do for all the sick and the weary,” said Marcus.

“You have done more of God’s work than the Cathedral down below, they turned me away as did all of the Inns.”

Fear pierced Marcus’ heart as the old woman’s icy stare turned toward him. “ But you, you followed God’s plan and get to live.”

“I.. I only answered the door when you knocked,” stammered Marcu.

“Exactly.” The old woman cracked her knuckles. “I only knock twice.” 

Fear froze the Monk’s heart as he turned away from the Abby’s door, finding it completely empty.