Abbot Ambrose wondered whether he had made the right choice, certainly the bill for washing the monks habits was much reduced. The new path to the bathing pool had lifted the monks above the marshy path. But at what cost? As each plank had been nailed down a thin trace of blood was seen.
Rumours started that the blood belonged to a novice who had been found bleeding in the refectory. Indeed it was the old planks from the refectory that had been used to create the path to the pool.
No monk would use the path, so the Abbot said he would lead the monks to the pool. As the Abbot stepped upon the path it spilt asunder, dropping the Abbot into the mire. As the Abbot called for help the mire turned a rusty red, sucking the Abbot downwards. Brother Jude stepped forwards and took the Abbots confession. From that moment the blood disappeared. Whilst the abbot was placed in an Anchorite Cell for the rest of his life.
Footnote: This was a story that I did not want to write, but it would not go away until I did…