St. Clare Defends Assisi with the Eucharist

The bell rope slapped against the wall as I hauled it twice, the sound thin in the empty cloister. We had heard the horns from the ridge at dawn. Now the clatter of hooves on the lower path told us the men were already inside the outer wall.

Sister Agnes ran past me with a basket of bread she had no time to hide. Her face was the color of new cheese. I dropped the rope and followed her toward the dormitory where Clare lay on the straw mat. The air inside smelled of wet wool and the vinegar we used on her sores.

Clare’s eyes were open when we reached her. She lifted her head without help. “Bring the case,” she said. Her voice was steady, the same tone she used when she asked for water at night. Two sisters lifted the silver and ivory box from its niche above the altar. The chain at its corners clinked once.

They carried Clare on the pallet. I walked beside it, one hand steadying the edge so it would not tip on the uneven stones. The box rode on the knees of the sister in front. Sunlight struck the metal and threw a white patch across Clare’s blanket.

At the dormitory door the view opened onto the cloister garden and the low wall beyond it. The first soldiers were already over that wall. Their boots crushed the rosemary border. One of them laughed when he saw us, a short bark that carried across the open space.

Clare sat upright on the pallet. The sisters set the case on the ground in front of her. She reached for it with both hands. The effort made her arms shake, but she raised the monstrance until the Host inside caught the light. The soldiers stopped moving. One lowered his bow. Another took a step back and slipped on the wet stones.

A child’s voice came from inside the case. It was small and clear, the way a boy speaks when he answers from the other side of a door. I heard the words “I will always protect you.” Clare’s mouth did not move. The sound came from the metal itself.

She spoke then, still holding the monstrance level with her eyes. “If it is Your wish, protect also this city.” The answer that followed was the same voice, softer now. It said the city would know trials but would be kept. The soldiers heard it. I saw one cross himself before he turned and ran for the wall.

Clare lowered the monstrance. She looked at us, the sisters gathered around the pallet. “You will suffer no evil,” she said. “Only have faith in Christ.” Her hands were steady again. The soldiers reached the wall and began to climb. Their mail rang against the stones. Within moments the last of them dropped out of sight on the far side.