| Hildegard, a nun from the abbey of Meaux in England, is sent by the prioress of the abbey on a secret mission. The Archbishop of York has asked the prioress to send a nun to Rome to bring back the legendary cross of Constantine. Ostensibly, Hildegard will be on pilgrimage. She knows that a journey to Rome, particularly in the winter of 1383, a time of the Black Death, will be long and dangerous. Furthermore, Hildegard is worried that the cross may be a valuable asset for one side in the growing tensions between the king and John of Gaunt. The prioress warns Hildegard that there will be spies from many factions; no one must know of her true purpose. She promises Hildegard that if she completes this mission successfully, Hildegard will have her wish of being allowed to set up her own order.
Hildegard travels to the continent in the company of a local contingent conveying a shipment of wool. She is supplied with a bodyguard, Sir Talbot, a tourney knight of great renown. The mission turns deadly when the body of a missing clerk is discovered in one of the bales of wool. The minstrel Pierrekyn is the prime suspect, but Hildegard believes there’s been a rush to judgment and he may very well be innocent. She agrees to hide him until more information can be uncovered.
Hildegard, Sir Talbot, and Pierrekyn will continue on through the Alps towards Rome.
Mystery readers expect a certain amount of perplexity in a story – after all, it’s a mystery-- but all is supposed to be revealed as the narrative unfolds. The Red Velvet Turnshoe fails in this regard. The fault may be twofold: it sinks under the weight of the history of the period, and as a sequel, it doesn’t stand alone.
The book’s dust cover features a quote from Publisher’s Weekly: “Medievalists rejoice!” That’s as much warning as praise. Only a medievalist well versed in the history of the late 14th century will feel at home in this story. There is a very brief timeline at the end, but more – much, much more – would help orient those readers who aren’t medieval scholars.
Unfortunately, the cover does not announce: “The sequel to Hangman Blind.” It took several chapters of complete bewilderment before this reader had the idea of checking whether there was an earlier book that introduced the characters. An author who creates a sequel has an obligation to her readers to give some – even cursory – information that will familiarize them with the characters. The Red Velvet Turnshoe is so closely connected to its predecessor that new readers are doomed to some confusion throughout the book.
Moreover, there’s one glaring question that goes unanswered: why can’t Hildegard wait until spring instead of February before departing on her journey? The idea that a nun will be sent on a mission to Rome which will entail crossing the Alps that could be left a couple of months just doesn’t make sense given the time period. Okay, it places her in even more jeopardy – in a mystery, jeopardy for the heroine is a good thing- but Hildegard’s already got quite enough to deal with.
Those readers who have read Hangman Blind may be interested in the continuing exploits of the characters. Those who have not, however, are strongly advised to think twice.
--Lesley Dunlap
|