“Well, I did, and look how it turned out.” Lillian stopped pacing and stared into space. “I don’t think I’m meant to be in a relationship. They’re for other people, not me.”
“I suspect Maddy would disagree. It’s clear to me and to everyone who’s seen you together that she cares about you very much. And you obviously care for her. I was starting to think . . .” She hesitated.
“What?”
“I was starting to think that perhaps you might end up as consorts.”
Lillian gaped. “Consorts? Have you lost your mind? Maddy would never take me as a consort.”
“Why not?” Sophia asked, noting with interest that Lillian hadn’t said she wouldn’t take Maddy as a consort.
“Look at me!” Lillian slapped her chest with both hands. “One day Maddy will wake up and realize how old I am.”
Sophia smiled gently. “I think she knows how old you are. Unless I dreamed it, she dined with us on your birthday.”
“No, Sophia, I mean really realize it—when she starts playing the ‘how old will Lillian be when I’m this old?’ game. When she’s ready to take a consort, she’ll want someone her own age. Someone to grow old with, not someone who’ll drop dead tomorrow.”
Sophia tutted. “You’re as healthy as an ox, you have years ahead of you. And nobody knows when Salbine will take them, Lillian. Too often, age has nothing to do with it.”
“Why would you even think we’d be consorts?” Lillian’s hands went to her hips. “You never once raised the possibility of consorts when I was seeing Caroline. I’ve been with Maddy five minutes and you already have us on our knees at the front of the chapel.”
Sophia didn’t have to betray her conversation with Maddy to answer. “Caroline would never have taken you as a consort. She didn’t care about you. She was using you.” If not for the table acting as a barrier between her and Lillian, Sophia wouldn’t have been so blunt. “I know you loved her and perhaps hoped it would go that way, but it never would have happened, Lillian. Never.” She winced at the pain that flashed across Lillian’s face. So time and a new relationship hadn’t healed the wound once and for all. Would Lillian ever put Caroline behind her?
“I’m not sure I loved her.” Lillian dropped her hands to her sides. “I thought I did, but now I’m not sure.”
“Because of your relationship with Maddy?” Sophia asked, hopeful and surprised. Perhaps the wound was healing after all. She stepped back when Lillian rounded the table, then relaxed when her sister sank back into the chair, her shoulders slumped; the fight had apparently left her. But Lillian didn’t answer the question. Sophia moved closer, lightly touched her arm. “I know it’s early days with Maddy, but I have a good feeling about the two of you. When we dined together, I could see you as consorts. You’re comfortable with each other, and you seem to enjoy each other’s company.”
Lillian snorted. “Comfortable. How exciting! I bet that’s just what Maddy wants in a consort.”
“It had better be what she wants. Once that initial burst of lust and excitement and novelty has worn off, there had better be a genuine friendship left in its wake, one that allows you to be yourselves with each other. That’s what will see you through to the end. And that’s another reason I never saw you and Caroline as consorts.” When Lillian didn’t say anything, Sophia continued. “Don’t make the mistake of equating comfortable with boring. Anyway, if you’re convinced that Maddy will never accept you as a consort, why are you with her? I wouldn’t ask if your relationship with her was a casual one, but it obviously isn’t.” When Lillian didn’t respond, Sophia started to ask the question again. It was too important for Lillian to ignore. “Why are—”
“Maybe when I’m dying and looking back over my life, I want to be able to say that someone cared once, even if for a short time. That someone chose to be with me in that way for a little while. That—” Lillian broke off and rubbed at her eye.
Sophia blinked; Lillian’s eyes weren’t the only ones holding tears.
Lillian drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t mind being on my own, not really. Sometimes I look at you and Elizabeth and wonder, but I’m set in my ways now. If I wanted a consort, I’d have taken one years ago.”
“No, you wouldn’t have! You’ve been too hung up on what happened with Caroline.”
Lillian smashed her fist onto the table. An empty jar tipped over but didn’t break.
“I think you have a chance with Maddy,” Sophia pressed, “but let’s say you don’t. There are a number of sisters around your age who have yet to take consorts, or whose consorts have gone to Salbine.”
“Then go find consorts for them! I don’t need one. And I doubt anyone would want me, if I did.”
Sophia couldn’t resist putting her arm around Lillian’s shoulders again. She pressed her cheek against Lillian’s. “I think there might be an initiate who’d consider taking you on, in time.” Maddy had to sort out her own life, first. By understanding that, the woman had demonstrated a maturity beyond her years and raised Sophia’s estimation of her.
“Will you please stop forcing Maddy on me?” Lillian said, though she didn’t pull away. “I’ve spoiled everything anyway.”
“How?”
“She wanted me to see her later, to talk. I told her no. I said I’d talk to her when she gets back from Heath.”
Sophia smiled. “You’re allowed to change your mind. I doubt she’ll mind if you do.”
Lillian sighed loudly. “What’s the point?”
“Do you care about her?” After a moment, Sophia felt Lillian nod. “Then send her on her way with your blessing. I know you don’t want her to leave and perhaps don’t understand why she has to go. But if you care about her, you’ll put yourself aside and give her what she needs from you right now. Sometimes you have to do that when you care about someone. And it will be better for you, too. You’ll regret that you didn’t, once she’s gone.”
Lillian swallowed. “I’m afraid she won’t come back.”
“She’s promised me she will,” Sophia said, despite sharing Lillian’s fear. “And thank you.”
“For what?” Lillian asked, turning to Sophia.
“For not shouting at me for giving her permission to go. I had to say yes. If she doesn’t come to terms with being malflowed, we might all lose her for good.”
“The material at Heath might not help her.”
“If so, she’ll at least have seen it with her own eyes and know for sure.”
Lillian grunted. “You’re her abbess, Sophia. You can’t keep her here for me, and I suppose I wouldn’t want you to.”
“That may be, but it was a difficult decision all the same, knowing how it would affect you.” It was the first time her duties as abbess had clashed with her love for her sister. Sophia squeezed Lillian’s shoulders and straightened. “I’ll let you get back to that parchment. Or perhaps you’ll go see Maddy?” She didn’t expect a reply. “You know where I am. And Elizabeth.”
She patted Lillian’s arm and slid the torch from the sconce. At the doorway, she stopped to glance over her shoulder. Lillian didn’t notice. She appeared deep in thought, hopefully trying to persuade herself to swallow her pride and talk to Maddy.
*****
Maddy lifted the lid of the small chest one of the defenders had carried up and peered inside. There wasn’t much room, but she didn’t have much, and the less they took with them, the sooner they’d arrive at Heath. She planned to take a few shifts, a couple of robes, an extra pair of shoes, and her sewing and embroidery tools—she needed something to occupy her when she wasn’t in Heath’s library. Oh, and paper, sealing wax, quills, and ink. She’d write to Lillian, even if Lillian didn’t come around before she left. The packhorse wouldn’t carry the chest; it was for the convenience of the defender who’d be carrying her things to the stables, where he’d bundle her items into a pack, perhaps two, to sling over the horse.
She closed the lid with a sigh and pushed herself up from her kne
es. Supper would be served soon, but she had no appetite. Lillian’s reaction had left her despondent, not only because Maddy was afraid she’d lost her, but because the despair she’d felt since then had made it clear that Lillian was her only source of joy at the monastery.
Her journey to Heath had taken on a new urgency that frightened her. What if the malflowed sister hadn’t left anything behind to help Maddy deal with her condition? What if she had, but it didn’t help, didn’t rekindle Maddy’s relationship with Salbine or point her to a next step? Now that she knew the abbess wouldn’t stand in her way if she decided to leave the Order, the temptation would be great. Perhaps it would have been better to not know, to feel trapped and so never give up, to keep searching until she drew her last breath.
She studied the branches on her hands that no longer reflected her inner spirit. They weren’t bare and dry and withered, nor turning to dust that a wind would eventually scatter, leaving no trace of the lush leaves formerly nourished by the knowledge that Salbine had chosen her to serve. Why, Salbine? Why?
Someone rapped at the door. Probably Rose, wondering if Maddy wanted to head to the dining hall. Maddy grasped the door’s iron ring and pulled it open, ready with an excuse to put Rose off. “Lillian!” she blurted.
“Would you still like to talk?”
“Yes! Come in.” She stood aside.
Lillian strode in and gazed at the chest sitting on the floor. “I wish you weren’t going, but I know you have to. I told you once that I was involved with someone who left the monastery.”
“Yes,” Maddy said from behind her. Sensing that Lillian didn’t want to speak to her directly, she remained where she was.
“When you told me you’re going to Heath, I felt as if I was being abandoned again. I wanted to protect myself. But I’ve since realized that you leaving has nothing to do with me.”
Actually, it partly did, but not in the way Lillian feared.
“I’ll miss you very much.”
“I’ll miss you, too, more than I can express,” Maddy said, but didn’t go to her. “What was her name?” she asked, hoping Lillian would remain open to the subject.
Lillian’s shoulders hunched. “Caroline.”
“And she left the monastery because of you?”
“No.”
Maddy tipped her head, confused.
“I thought she had, but later I realized that she hadn’t considered me at all in her decision to leave. Our relationship meant a lot more to me than it did to her. I’m not sure she even saw it as a relationship. But I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought I was special to her.” Lillian’s head bowed. “But I was just a plaything.”
Maddy reached for her, but the instant she touched Lillian’s back, Lillian moved to sit on the bed. “Have you finished packing your chest?”
The sudden change in topic disappointed Maddy, but she wouldn’t push Lillian to reveal more about Caroline when she obviously wasn’t ready to talk about her. “I haven’t started. I was just thinking about what I’ll take.” An idea formed. “Would you wear a red robe?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’d stick out like a bloody peacock!”
Smiling, Maddy sat at Lillian’s feet and gazed up at her. “All right. Would you wear one made with a finer wool, perhaps broadcloth?” she asked, fingering Lillian’s rough robe. “I thought I might make you one while I’m away.”
Lillian arched a brow. “If you make me a robe, I suppose you’ll have to come back, to give it to me.”
“I suppose I will. And I’ll expect you to wear it.” She took Lillian’s hand, squeezed her fingers. “And I’ll write to you as much as I can. Every time we reach a town, the first thing I’ll do is find a messenger.”
“Who’s going with you?” Lillian asked, her face clouding.
“Jonathan. He was going with Sister Clara. Now he’s going with me.”
Lillian scowled. “If he doesn’t bring you back in one piece, he’ll have me to deal with.”
Maddy rested her head in Lillian’s lap and closed her eyes when Lillian gently touched her hair. “We’ll be fine, so don’t worry.” Though she had to admit, Lillian’s concern for her welfare pleased her.
Given her inner turmoil, Maddy couldn’t make any promises, but she didn’t want to leave without telling Lillian how much she cared about her. “My decision to go to Heath . . . I’d be happier about it, if not for you. Not your reaction to it,” she quickly added when Lillian drew breath, “but because it means leaving you. I wish I didn’t have to, but I’ll never be happy here unless I find my purpose again.”
“And if Heath doesn’t offer an answer?” Lillian asked softly.
“Then I’ll keep searching,” Maddy said, despite suspecting she’d be crushed, disheartened, and fighting the temptation to leave the Order. Until proven otherwise, she’d prefer to believe that her journey to Heath wouldn’t be a waste of time, that she’d return to the monastery intending to live out her days as a sister, or at least prepared to step onto the path toward that destination. “When I’m away, you’ll always be in my thoughts. And when I return, I hope to see even more of you than I do now.” She lifted her head and met Lillian’s eyes. “You grow more precious to me with each passing day.”
Lillian swallowed. “Just before you came to the laboratory, I was thinking of inviting you to my chambers for cider.” She caressed Maddy’s cheek with trembling fingers.
Maddy smiled inside. “Let’s save that for when I get back. It’ll give me another reason to work hard and not tarry at Heath. I’ll return all the sooner.”
“Even if you were to return the day after you left, it wouldn’t be soon enough,” Lillian murmured. She leaned forward and gently kissed Maddy’s lips.
Warmth mingled with worry. The material at Heath had better hold the answer, or a signpost, because Lillian would always be behind monastery walls. Maddy desperately needed a reason to remain behind those walls, with the woman she loved.
*****
Maddy hunched her shoulders against the nip in the morning air and pulled the collar of her travelling cloak up around her ears as she left the chapel. She’d feel the chill more as she rode, but vanity prevented her from pulling the cloak’s hood over her head. She wanted Lillian to see more than her eyes and red, cold nose when she bid her good-bye, especially since the service to send her and Jonathan on their way had already left her eyes red-rimmed. For the first time in ages, a service had touched Maddy, though not for the usual reason. Her bond with her fellow sisters was still there, albeit a bit strained. Her bond with Salbine . . .
Thomas stood near the gates with three magnificent Salbine horses. Maddy had stupidly asked him why they’d need trained Salbine horses, since she was malflowed. “Those at Heath aren’t, Sister,” he’d replied. “And we’ll have to train a horse for you, one you’ll call your own. You’ll be riding with mages, more often than not.” But not today. Jonathan was already at the gates, his breath forming misty clouds in the air as he checked that the weight of their baggage was evenly distributed across the packhorse’s back. His breastplate lacked a crest, and Maddy’s cloak was plain. When travelling, sisters and defenders didn’t avoid drawing attention, but they didn’t seek it, either.
Maddy drew a deep breath. Now the part that had kept her awake last night. She turned around to face those who had followed her in silence from the chapel to the gates. Most sisters had wished her well in the chapel’s vestibule. Those before her were her friends. She forced a smile that probably looked sickly.
Rose stepped forward and hugged her. “Hurry back, all right?” she said, her voice quavering. Next it was Nora’s turn, then Grace came forward, then Abigail. The faces became a blur. Even Gwendolyn appeared sorry to see her go.
“Safe journey, Maddy,” Mistress Elizabeth said. “And a safe return.” She grasped Maddy’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.
The abbess swam into view. “Remember, you don’t have to study the materia
l while you’re there,” she said. “Put the scribes to work as soon as you find something that might be interesting and then move on to the next item.” She took both of Maddy’s hands and squeezed them. “Come back to us.”
“I will,” she whispered, then sank to one knee and felt the abbess’s hand on her head.
“May Salbine guide you. May Salbine provide for you. May Salbine keep you.” Usually the blessing ended there, but the abbess’s hand didn’t move. “May Salbine enlighten you. May Salbine return you to us.” She lifted her hand.
“Salbine’s will be done,” Maddy said, rising in time to see those gathered raising their heads.
The abbess nodded. “We’ll leave you now. Next time we see you, I hope you have the answers you seek.” She turned to the others. “Let’s return to our duties, sisters.”
Maddy acknowledged shouts of “Safe Journey!” and “Salbine preserve you!” with a wave as she watched the sisters trail away. All except one. She swallowed; she was already shaking. A sombre Lillian stood before her. Maddy reached for her, held her tight, rubbed her chin on Lillian’s rough robe. “I’ll send letters as often as I can.”
“I won’t be able to reply until you’re at Heath,” Lillian said against Maddy’s ear. “Then you’ll likely get a barrage of letters from me.”
Maddy smiled through her tears. “I hope so.” She drew back, took Lillian’s face in her hands. “The first thing I’ll do when I come back is find you.”
“I’ll have my work in the laboratory to keep me busy while you’re gone,” Lillian said briskly.
“You’d better churn out those tinctures and salves and whatever else you concoct down there, because when I come back, I fully intend to monopolize your time for a bit.”
“Not everything will keep for long,” Lillian said, her chin trembling. “But I’ll do what I can. And I might start training a horse for you. Thomas said you’ve shown interest in the dappled mare.”
“Oh, she’s a cracker, that one,” Maddy said. “I’d love to claim her as mine.”
The Salbine Sisters Page 10
