by Candy Rae
“Annette?”
“Van Buren. She decided to stay as well; her name in religion is Sister Coenberg.”
“Strange names,” observed Katia.
“All the sister’s names are like thers, they are all named after ladies from a long time ago.”
“When was that?” asked Katia.
“Never was interested enough to ask,” admitted Isobel with a small smile. “I never wanted to be a nun. Goodness, it will be good to see Jess and Annette again after all this time, Sister Earcongota too. She’s in charge of the school.”
“What do they look like?”
“The nuns?”
“No, the habits.”
“They are grey,” Isobel informed the less learned Katia, “I’ve always thought they are so much nicer than the Thibaltine black, softer somehow.”
“I hope Jill will be happy there,” fretted Jill’s older sister.
“I wouldn’t worry,” answered Isobel. “Sister Earcongota is a dear if I say so myself. She mothers all the younger ones as if they are her own. Old Sister Hereswald, she’s awfully nice too. Things might have changed since Estelle and I left. Sister Hereswald was old then and another sister might have taken her place in the schoolroom. Might even be Jessica herself though that’s unlikely as she’s still a novice.”
“Do all the sisters teach?”
“No. The convent is famous for its decorated religious manuscripts and I believe some of the sisters write religious concordances and interpretations of the scriptures. Some teach the local children and there are their devotions; they do a lot of praying in the chapel. That wasn’t one of my most favourite occupations when I was there. I always felt, especially in the summer it was such a waste of good weather being cooped up inside the chapel for all these candle-marks. Jessica enjoyed it. I wasn’t surprised when she decided.”
“You were close,” surmised Katia.
“Brought up together. She was that bit older but she always made time to play.”
“Does she know about your betrothal?”
“I don’t know. I never wrote and told her but it’s not a totally enclosed order like the Thibaltines. The sisters know what’s happening outside. Mother Bregusund reads out the news every tenday.”
“Wonder what they said when they heard?” pondered Katia but she never heard what Isobel thought about it because at that moment their carriage went over a particularly deep pothole and lurched.
Jill opened her eyes and rubbed them. “Are we not there yet?” she asked in a cross voice.
“Not far now,” promised Isobel after a quick glance out of the window.
“I need the necessary.”
“Hold it in a bit longer,” said Isobel as the carriage gave another lurch and flung the three girls over. “This road was always bad but it seems to have got worse.”
“When you’re married you could always persuade Elliot to endow the convent with some coin to maintain it,” suggested Katia.
“I think I will,” Isobel replied.
The carriage came to a stop outside the well-remembered entrance a short while later and the girls waited for the outriders to open the door.
Isobel heard the bell ringing as she was assisted down and walked towards the carved wooden door. A plump figure dressed in the familiar grey habit popped her upper half outside.
“Isobel,” she said, her face wreathed in smiles.
“Sister Eanfled,” exclaimed Isobel, giving her a hug. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Come in, come in,” said Sister Eanfled opening the door wide, “and this is little Jill who is joining us. You must be her sister, Countess Cocteau?”
“Call me Katia,” said the owner of the name. “Isobel told me there is no rank here.”
“In God’s eyes we are all equal. Now enter and be welcome in our house.” She turned to the coachman and the outriders. “If you go round the back good sirs you will find those waiting to care for you and your horses.”
“We have an area outside the enclosure proper,” she explained to Katia as she drew them inside, “where the lay sisters work although they sleep inside the walls. It’s a pity you can only stay the one day with us and not longer.”
“But we can,” smiled Isobel. “We can stay an extra day if we so desire and I do desire. I’ve got so much to tell you and I want to hear all your news.”
“I’m to take you to Mother,” Sister Eanfled said.
“I remember the way,” Isobel replied. “Why don’t you take Katia and Jill to where they are to sleep and I’ll go to her? Jill is very tired and Katia will want to see her settled.”
Sister Eanfled nodded. “You were always considerate Isobel. If you are sure?”
“I am sure,” Isobel answered and made her way to the Reverend Mother’s room.
* * * * *
“When we heard about your good fortune there was much excitement here,” Mother Bregusund told Isobel. “We gave thanks to God in our prayers.”
“Good fortune?” queried Isobel, “the whole thing scares me witless.”
“Why?” asked Mother Breguswið in her habitual calm voice.
“Because, because its all happened so quickly. I thought Father would find me a husband but I thought it’d be someone like the man he found for Estelle. I thought I’d be a wife of perhaps a Baron with perhaps a manor to run and a family to bring up. I never thought I would be a Queen. I’m scared Mother.”
“You must pray. Then your way will become clear,” Mother Breguswið advised. “Pray for help. God does not ask his children to do anything beyond their capabilities. That would be cruel and we know God is not cruel. We may not understand what He asks of us but prayer helps. You must ask.”
“I will try Mother,” said Isobel.
“When you left us last year,” Mother Breguswið continued, “I wondered if you might return.”
“I did think about it Mother then it all happened. I wanted to see you before the betrothal ceremony but it was impossible. Now it is too late, even if I wanted to join you I cannot.”
“The reason of God is unfathomable. The only advice is as I have said already. Pray to God when you are in need of guidance and you face difficulties along your road.”
“Will he reply?”
“Not in so many words my child but he will listen. Keep to your faith and all will be well. Now, do you wish to pray?”
“Yes Mother.”
“Do you remember the way to chapel?”
Isobel nodded.
“It should be quiet at this time. Vespers is not for a candle-mark.”
Isobel made her reverence and made for the chapel. She didn’t stay overlong at prayer and left before the sisters arrived.
After Vespers came the evening meal. Isobel got the opportunity to meet her friends again and to exchange news. Sitting at the visitors table with Katia, eating the simple meal laid before her, Isobel felt some of the strain she had been living with dissipate.
She met the stares and nuances of recognition from amongst the sisters with a shy smile. Meals were taken in silence here except for the few days when rules were relaxed in honour of one of the Saints but in the common room after the meal Isobel was surrounded by a collection of excited sisters who all wished to welcome her back and to congratulate her about her betrothal. Katia had gone back to the school wing to see Jill.
When she did enter the room with Sister Earcongota she saw Isobel deep in animated conversation with a group of younger nuns and settled down with Earcongota and old Sister Hereswald to talk about what Jill would be doing in the coming months.
No wonder she talks about her time here so much and has such fond memories; they’re all so kind, goodness seems to seep out of them with every breath. Jill will be happy here.
Isobel was renewing old friendships. Mary, youngest daughter of a junior noble who held land from her Father had been one of Isobel’s ‘best friends’ during her convent schooldays. They were the same age.
The pr
evious year, when they had reached the great age of fourteen, Mary had decided to remain at the convent. She sat beside Isobel; dressed from top to toe in dark grey, her auburn curls peeking out from the half-veil the postulants wore.
Isobel had decided to go home to think whether she wanted to enter religion too.
“Fate’s a strange thing Isobel,” Mary said. “If you had stayed here your life would have been so different.”
“True,” smiled her friend. “Are you happy Mary?”
“Yes I am,” Mary replied, “you?
“I’m getting used to it,” said Isobel with a laugh, “and it’ll get better. Mother helped. We had a long talk before Vespers.”
“She’s marvellous isn’t she? Oh, here are Coenberg and Cynwise,” and Isobel looked up as the one time Jessica Cocteau and Annette van Buren appeared at her side.
The two were now in the last year of their novitiate and wore the same full habit in pale grey as the professed sisters; the only difference was that their veils were white. Their hair was, as Isobel was aware, cropped short underneath their wimples.
The four of them embarked on an orgy of reminiscences and the candle-mark dedicated to recreation and talk was over almost before Isobel was aware of it. When the candle-mark was up the sisters stopped talking and tidied away before departing for Compline.
When, two days later, Isobel allowed herself to be guided into the carriage she felt more at ease within herself than she had been for some time. She felt at peace and ready for what the future might bring. Old ghosts had been laid to rest. The life of a Religieuse was not for her and she was content. With Gods help she would meet the challenges of the secular life of marriage to the Prince-Heir and eventually Queen of Murdoch.
* * * * *
Niaill
Hansel had accepted Niaill’s offer of a pillion seat behind him with joy. He was a skinny little individual and Taraya made nothing of the extra weight.
The First Ryzck were still at Douglastown when the Forty-First arrived to relieve them and two days after the handover, thirty-five vadeln-pairs and one ecstatic boy set out on their journey to Vada, the authorities after initial objections, having signed over Hansel’s guardianship to Niaill.
Not one of the vadeln wanted to waste any time on their trip back. It was the First Ryzck’s turn for what was called, ‘Long Leave’.
There were ten months in a Rybakian year. Each tour of duty for a Ryzck lasted three months with two months leave in between. These two months were not long enough most vadelns complained because travel to and from their patrol area ate into it (some patrol areas were as much as fourteen days run away), so did patrol debriefing and preparation for the next duty tour. Training also took place during this time.
It didn’t leave many days for relaxation and for those Lind whose rtathlians were in the far west it meant that there was not enough time to visit.
Because of this, not long after the Vada had been formed, the then Susa, Francis and his Lind Asya had decided that every third leave period should be four months long instead of two. It had been acclaimed with delight by those early vadeln and it had continued to be so ever since.
This was the beginning of the First Ryzck’s ‘Long Leave’ and the sooner they got to Vada the sooner they could get away.
Niaill and Taraya were intending to visit Taraya’s rtath.
Half way to Vada, Hansel asked a question.
“What exactly is telepathy?
Now, the telepathic abilities of the Lind were still not fully understood by their human partners. Once life-bonded the minds of the human and the Lind were linked. They could ‘talk’ to each other, knew what each other was thinking and felt each others joys and pains. They could ‘see’ through each others eyes and ‘hear’ through each others ears. Niaill had suspicions that his Taraya’s mental abilities were greater than this. He declined to answer the question telling Hans that he would learn about it at Vada when he was in the classroom..
This was only one of Hans’s questions. He had, as Taraya complained, found his voice although he had been as silent as a vuz until the day the guardianship papers had been signed by the magistrate.
In that instant Hans had relaxed, his face had cleared of worry. His green eyes were no longer troubled. The habitual droop of his mouth disappeared to be replaced with the now habitual smile.
He had begun to ask his new guardian questions immediately and he hadn’t stopped asking since.
Much to the inner amusement of the other vadeln, Niaill and Taraya suffered this for two days. Then Deby and Alfei spelled Niaill and Taraya for a time. Niaill and Taraya were suitably grateful and following Deby and Alfei’s example others offered the same service. By then Hans was fired with one ambition, to pair with a Lind and to become a member of the First Ryzck.
* * * * *
Chapter 7
AL607 - First Month of Winter (Dunthed)
Rilla
“I almost can’t believe it’s happened,” announced Rilla to Zawlei as she sewed the third year cadet stripes on to the sleeve of her uniform jacket.
“We deserve it,” he said, getting himself comfy on his divan bed.
“We’ve worked hard,” Rilla agreed. “I just hope that we can merit Weaponsmaster Jilmis’s faith in us.”
“We will be no better and no worse than the others and he told us we were ready. I believe him and so must you.”
“And in just another two months and we should get leave; that’s the icing on the cake as far as I am concerned. I can’t wait to visit your rtathlians. You sure I’ll be made welcome?”
“Yes,” Zawlei answered with an impatient sigh. “You do keep asking and I keep telling you. We will be very welcome.”
Rilla bestowed on Zawlei a grin that said sorry.
“Now,” she said, finishing her thread and scrabbling round her bedclothes for the bobbin. She broke off another length with her teeth and threaded the needle again. “Just one more stripe to go then I’m ready.” She glanced up at the new timetable that adorned the wall above her desk.
“What class was it again that Jilmis said we were to start with? I can’t see, the writing’s too small.”
“It is mounted practice,” Zawlei informed her, he had memorised the timetable. “I look forward very much to it. It will be most exciting to be in amongst so many.”
“A bit too exciting if you ask me,” Rilla replied, cutting off the unused thread and holding up the jacket to inspect her handiwork.
“But you like it here my Rilla?” asked Zawlei. “You are glad I came for you?”
“Absolutely, and you know it,” said Rilla, dropping her jacket and leaning over to give Zawlei a hug, “it’s just a little hard sometimes, that’s all.”
“It is the Vada,” he said as if that explained all.
* * * * *
Elliot and Robain
The same afternoon that Rilla proudly sewed on her three stripes, Elliot and the other three arrived at the border between Argyll and Vadath.
“This is the ford,” Robain announced, “the border.”
“There aren’t any border posts or anything,” observed Elliot, reining in Nibbles.
“I thought there’d be a wall or something too,” added James, coming to a halt beside Elliot.
“Why would there be?” asked Robain. “Vadath and Argyll are friends. It’s like, it’s like,” he continued, reaching in his memory for a comparison, “like between your duchies.”
It was an erroneous comparison.
James and Elliot laughed and even Philip smiled.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “there are walls between some of the duchies. Dukes are very protective of what is theirs.”
“North and South Baker are the worst,” confided Elliot to Robain. “I’ve heard Father complain.”
“Why is that?” asked an interested Robain.
“My tutors explained,” Elliot began with a dig at James. “My friend here was asleep and if not he was looking out of the
window?”
“Bit of both,” replied James, “I was never much of a lesson lover, that’s why I’m such an ignoramus today.”
“Ignorance can be corrected by diligence and perseverance,” intoned Robain.
“What?” both boys asked in unison.
“Just something the priests used to say when I was a boy. Tell me about the duchies.”
“I can’t remember the dates but it began when Baker was split into two; two brothers who hated each other and their father split up the duchy to prevent war when he died or perhaps it was before. I might have been looking out of the window during that part of the lecture myself.”
“Always best to fall asleep at the start of something boring,” quipped James.
“Let him finish,” ordered Philip.
“I don’t know much else,” admitted Elliot, “the border stones have early dates on them, that’s all.”
“I’ll look it up when we get home,” said Philip. “I’m most interested and I would like to know.” He grinned at Elliot who grinned back, completely at ease with the man who knew when to tease and when to take what Elliot was saying in all seriousness. Elliot suspected this was one of the aspects of Philip’s character his father liked; totally loyal, incorruptible and with a good deal of sense and humour merged in. Of course, Philip, although always polite was in charge of the expedition and was not slow to order Elliot about if need be but Elliot’s gut feeling was that once they were home the Baron would not behave any different than he was now, at least in private.