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The Salbine Sisters

Page 11

by Sarah Ettritch


  “Then I’d best get started, so she’s on her way when you get back,” Lillian said hoarsely. “I don’t normally train them from start to finish, but I will for yours.”

  Ignoring the wetness on her own face, Maddy used her thumbs to wipe away Lillian’s tears. “Thank you.” They stared at each other. It was time to go. Maddy embraced Lillian again, wanting to hold her once more. She dreaded letting her go. But she had to, for both of them. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, then pulled back and kissed her. But the gesture felt empty, and her lips, dead. Passion would have to wait for a better time; it would have its day when she fell into Lillian’s arms upon her return, hopefully rejuvenated and looking forward to living out the rest of her life as a sister.

  She pulled her riding gloves from her cloak pocket and allowed Jonathan to boost her onto her horse.

  “I’ll feed the squirrels,” Lillian said.

  Maddy managed to smile at her. “You can try.” She drew a shuddering breath and gazed at Lillian one last time. “Salbine keep you, Lillian. Salbine keep you.” After nodding to Jonathan, she nudged the horse forward. They passed through the monastery’s gates. Maddy didn’t look back.

  *****

  A bead of sweat formed on Lillian’s temple as she worked the pestle against the dried sage in the mortar. The hours used to pass quickly when she worked, but now they dragged. Maddy always hovered in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t even be halfway to Heath yet, and would likely spend several months reviewing material and waiting for scribes to complete their work. It would be months before she returned. If she returned.

  Lillian had hoped the ache would subside with time, but it still gnawed at her. She gained pleasure from her work, but the feeling that something—or rather, someone—was missing prevented her spirit from soaring.

  “This is the first dry day we’ve had all week, but of course, you’re down here,” Sophia said from the doorway.

  “Where did you expect me to be?” Lillian asked without looking up. “Running through the fields, singing?”

  Sophia chuckled. “No, that would mean Salbine had blessed us with a miracle. But you might consider a walk later, get some sun.”

  Lillian grunted.

  “Several letters were delivered earlier today,” Sophia said, moving closer. “One’s for you.”

  “For me?” She wiped her hands on a cloth before accepting a folded paper from Sophia. The seal was intact; Sophia hadn’t peeked. Lillian wasn’t familiar with Maddy’s script, but it had to be from her. “She actually wrote, then? She meant it when she said she would?”

  “Yes,” Sophia said, smiling broadly.

  “Then maybe she meant it when she said she’d come back.”

  “I think she just might have. Are you going to read it?”

  “No, no, not until I’ve finished preparing this tincture,” Lillian said, setting the message on the table, out of harm’s way.

  “I’ll let you get back to work, then. And do go for a walk. Put some colour in your cheeks!”

  “Out!” Lillian bellowed, shooing Sophia away. She picked up the pestle and resumed grinding. As soon as Sophia’s footsteps faded, Lillian rushed to the door and listened. When she was certain that Sophia wouldn’t return, she pushed the door shut and returned to the table. She wanted to grab the message and rip it open, but forced herself to carefully break the seal and unfold the paper.

  My dearest Lillian, the letter began.

  Oh. Dearest. Well, that was a good start, wasn’t it?

  I hope this letter finds you well. We’ll arrive at the town of Leaton tomorrow, and I hope to find a messenger there. Fingers crossed. We’ve passed through several lovely and friendly villages, but not a single messenger to be found, and none due for days.

  She’d obviously found one, if not in Leaton, then soon afterward.

  Our journey so far has been a pleasant one, with only one wet afternoon. Everyone along the way has greeted us warmly, and though we vigorously protest, we often leave a village with our poor packhorse carrying a heavier load. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed in Leaton. Jonathan will try to find us a quiet and clean inn, and if it’s not too much trouble, I might soak in a tub, try to get all the dust out of my hair.

  I think about you all the time, always wonder what you’d think of a village and its people. Yesterday we passed a travelling merchant selling herbs, and I thought of you in your laboratory, hunched over your table. I say good night to you every night. I know it’s silly, but I do.

  Lillian smiled. It might be silly, but it warmed her more than any fire ever had.

  I pray with Jonathan every morning and evening. The ritual comforts me, but not the prayer itself. But I don’t feel I’m an intruder when I pray under the sun and stars, as I did in the chapel.

  Then perhaps she’d been right, and had a better chance of coming to terms with her condition away from the monastery.

  I’m running out of room. Lillian, I miss you more than I can express. I can’t wait to see you again, and I promise that I’ll send another letter as soon as I can.

  Yours with the deepest affection,

  Maddy

  Lillian read the letter once more, then refolded it and turned it over in her hands. She’d always treasure it, knew she’d reread it umpteen times over the coming months. And whenever she needed a boost, it would be there to remind her that someone had cared, had sent a message to “dearest Lillian” and ended it “with the deepest affection.” Perhaps others received letters like this all the time, but this was her first.

  As soon as Maddy reached Heath, Lillian would send her a reply. In the meantime, she’d look forward to more letters! Maddy had promised to send another, and Lillian couldn’t wait for it to arrive.

  It never came.

  Chapter Nine

  Maddy spooned the last of the thick stew into her mouth and leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. Jonathan was still working his way through a second bowl. While she waited for him to finish, she glanced around the tidy and mercifully quiet common room. Despite the early evening hour, a raucous gathering had been in full swing at the first inn they’d tried. Maddy had left with the impression that it wasn’t the most reputable establishment in Garryglen. The many buxom women hanging off the men, their breasts spilling out of their dresses, had been the first clue.

  A kindly gentleman outside had suggested several more suitable alternatives, and so here they were, finishing a nourishing and relaxing supper. In addition to themselves and the innkeeper, two merchants stood in conversation near the fire, and three young boys sat with their parents around a nearby table, their ma keeping them on a tight leash. Maddy’s eyes were starting to droop, but she’d already asked for hot water, wanting to wash away the accumulated dust and dirt of the last three weeks’ travel. She’d bathed several times in springs and lakes they’d passed along the way, but that wasn’t the same as a good, hot soak.

  “The innkeep says we’re sure to find a messenger if we head to the main market square, Sister,” Jonathan said. “Always messengers looking for work there. Might not carry our letters all the way to Merrin, but I’d imagine most will go to Leaton and pass them on.”

  In anticipation of entering Garryglen, Maddy had written a letter to Lillian the previous evening. She missed her more than she’d expected, and hoped Lillian hadn’t grown impatient waiting for her next letter. She hadn’t known there wouldn’t be an opportunity to send another one until three weeks after they’d left Leaton. Jonathan had thought one of the larger villages along the way would see a messenger regularly ride through, but every time they’d asked, the consensus had been that hiring one in Garryglen would be just as quick as waiting for a messenger to arrive, if not quicker.

  “How far away is the square?” she asked.

  “Innkeep said it’s about fifteen minutes at a brisk walk. I think we should stop there on our way out, rather than walk there and back.”

  “I agree.” Travelling was sta
rting to wear thin, and Heath was still two weeks away. The sooner they arrived there, the better. They planned to pay a visit to Garryglen’s lay chapel in the morning, so they wouldn’t have time to walk to the market square if they hoped to leave Garryglen before lunch.

  Jonathan pushed his bowl away and picked at his teeth with his thumbnail. Maddy slid her chair away from the table. “I’m going to my room. The girl should have finished filling the tub by now. I’ll meet you—”

  The inn’s wooden door smashed open. A wild-eyed man burst in. “Frank’s place is on fire. He’s trapped inside. We need help on the line!” he shouted, then whirled and rushed out.

  Jonathan was already on his feet and buckling on his sword. The two merchants brushed by him; the boys at the nearby table clung to their ma as their pa followed the merchants out the door.

  “Pray on your own tonight, Sister. I’ll see you in the morning,” Jonathan murmured.

  Smoke wafted into the common room through the open door. The innkeeper coughed into his hand and motioned for Jonathan to hurry, wanting to shut the door. Then his eyes fell on Maddy and he stepped outside. “Wait!” he bellowed. “There’s a sister here. She can put out the fire.”

  No, she couldn’t!

  Jonathan backtracked. “Go upstairs, Sister. Now!” But it was too late. Several townsfolk ran into the inn and rushed toward her table. Maddy stood and instinctively backed away.

  “Help us, Sister!” a woman cried.

  Someone grabbed Maddy’s sleeve.

  “Frank’s in there,” shrieked another.

  Maddy’s back hit the wall; she pressed herself against it. People crowded around her and Jonathan.

  “Please, Sister, come right now. He doesn’t—”

  A loud crash from outside, then screams, drowned out the words.

  “Where’s that sister?” a man shouted from the doorway. “The roof’s just collapsed and the fire’s spreading to the shop next door. We need her now!”

  A high-pitched wail sent shivers up Maddy’s spine. “He’s dead, isn’t he? He’s dead!” a woman moaned. She collapsed into the arms of the woman next to her.

  “Whether he’s dead or not, we need to put out that fire before it spreads,” the man said. “Come on, Sister.” He beckoned for Maddy to follow him.

  She swallowed. “I can’t put out the fire.”

  He didn’t hear her. “Come on.”

  “I can’t,” she said, louder.

  Shocked faces stared at her.

  “You won’t help?” the man said incredulously.

  “You’re just going to stand there and watch the town burn?” someone cried on Maddy’s right.

  “We not good enough for you?” someone else yelled.

  “No! I can’t put out the fire,” Maddy said, her heart pounding. “I can’t draw the—”

  The crowd grew ugly. Shouts rang out. Jonathan slid his sword from its scabbard and jabbed it toward anyone who lunged at Maddy. She raised her hands and shrank back, trembling with fright. “I can’t draw the elements,” she screamed, but the din swallowed her words. People were grabbing at her from all sides. Jonathan moved in front of her but the crowd closed in.

  “Stop!” a commanding voice roared.

  Everyone froze.

  “What are you all doing in here? Get out there and help on the line. Anyone who isn’t out of my sight within thirty seconds will answer to the magistrate!”

  The crowd quickly dispersed, leaving two town guardsmen in its wake—and two women weeping in each other’s arms. One pointed at Maddy. “She refused to help, and now my Frank’s dead,” she sobbed.

  “Evelyn speaks the truth, Captain Wheeler” the innkeeper said to the sandy-haired guard, leaving his place behind the bar. “Everyone begged her for help, but she denied them.”

  The guardsmen turned their attention to Maddy. “Is this true?” asked Wheeler, his eyes glittering in the torchlight as he examined her and Jonathan.

  “I would have helped, if I could,” Maddy said quietly. “But I can’t. I can’t draw water.”

  “Fraud!” shouted Evelyn’s companion. “I saw your overloaded packhorse when you arrived at the inn. How much do you demand for Salbine’s blessing? How much bread have you taken off people’s tables?”

  “I haven’t demanded anything,” Maddy said, knowing she wouldn’t sway the condemnation and conviction in their eyes.

  Jonathan slid his sword into its scabbard. “The sister is malflowed. She can’t draw the elements.”

  The guardsmen glanced at each other. “You ever heard of a malflowed sister, Park?” Wheeler asked.

  “Can’t say that I have,” the other guardsman muttered.

  Evelyn launched herself at Maddy, shrieking, “You killed my Frank!” She grabbed the front of Maddy’s robe and pulled her forward. “You killed him!” She slapped at Maddy, scratching her cheek. Maddy tried to push her away, but Evelyn refused to let go of her robe and slapped Maddy again. Jonathan pushed between them to separate them.

  “Stand back!” Wheeler ordered.

  “You’re not a sister!” Evelyn hissed as Park moved behind her and dragged her away from Maddy.

  “Fraud!” Evelyn’s companion spat at Maddy. “Impersonating a sister. You can’t get any lower!”

  “She is a sister,” Jonathan said as Maddy wiped spittle off her nose.

  “I think that’ll be a matter for the magistrate to decide,” Wheeler said. “Something isn’t right here.”

  “We have documents that prove who we are.” Maddy’s blood ran cold. They may have documents from Merrin, but none included a mention of her condition.

  “If you are a sister, then you’re a murderer, you cold-hearted bitch!” Evelyn shouted.

  Park winced. “Simmer down.” He tightened his arms around Evelyn’s waist when she struggled to break free.

  “She’d better get what’s coming to her, or I’ll take care of her myself, you mark my words!” Evelyn screamed, swinging at Maddy from a distance.

  Wheeler turned to Jonathan. “Your sword, please.” Jonathan stared at him. “Your sword,” he repeated firmly.

  Jonathan glanced at Maddy, then unbuckled his belt and dropped it to the floor.

  “Evelyn, Park’s going to let you go. If you try to harm . . . the sister, I’ll cut you down. Do you understand?”

  Evelyn’s eyes bulged. “Cut me down? Why are you protecting her? Can you believe these two, Fran?” she said to her companion, whose mouth pressed into a disapproving line. “If she turns out to be a sister, you’ll let her go, won’t you?” Evelyn shrieked. “Always a different type of justice for the high and mighty, eh? Which means no justice for us poor folk who’ve been wronged.”

  “The magistrate will listen to both sides,” Wheeler said with a sigh. He kicked Jonathan’s sword underneath the table, well out of Evelyn’s reach. “Now, are you going to behave yourself?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to, or I’ll be the one punished, even though she’s the guilty one.” She shook her fist at Maddy. “Salbine curse you!”

  Fran’s hands went to her hips. “Ha! Salbine! I bet you don’t know a thing about Her, do you, except how to use Her name to fill your pockets.” She glared at Maddy.

  Despite knowing she was innocent of all accusations, Maddy felt her face burn. She probably looked guilty, perhaps because she felt guilty. If she could have put out the fire, she would have, without hesitation. But she was crippled. Crippled!

  Wheeler rested his hand on his sword’s hilt and nodded to Park, who let go of Evelyn’s waist and stood back. Evelyn’s eyes bored into Maddy. “Don’t think you’ll get away with this. If the magistrate doesn’t take care of you, I will. We have our own brand of justice. You won’t leave this town alive!” She jerked her head toward the door, “Let’s go, Fran. Let’s make sure everyone knows what’s happening.” Her lips trembled. “And then I’ll take care of my Frank.” She marched from the inn, Fran on her heels.

  Moments later, Maddy heard Evel
yn shouting over the commotion outside. Park raised his eyebrows at Wheeler. “I think we’ll need more guardsmen to escort them to the town hall,” Wheeler said. “Have Jenkins round up a few, then find the magistrate and tell him he’s needed. Oh, and take his sword with you.”

  Wheeler shut the door behind Park and barred it. He studied Jonathan and Maddy while they waited. The innkeeper had apparently slipped away when Evelyn held everyone’s attention. He was probably outside, helping her whip the crowd into a frenzy. “I don’t know what would be better for you,” Wheeler said. “If you’re a fraud using Salbine’s name for your own gain, then you’re a despicable piece of rubbish, but can’t be blamed for not helping. If you’re not a fraud . . . I hope Salbine has mercy on your soul. Not sure what the magistrate will do, since you’re not obligated to help, but by golly . . . I have a lot of respect for the Salbine Sisters, the ones I’ve met have always been right helpful. It was probably too late to save Frank, but you could have stopped the fire from spreading.” He shook his head. “No, you must be a fraud. I can’t see any sister turning her back like you did.”

  “I’m not a fraud,” Maddy said miserably. What was the point? “And I wasn’t lying when I said I can’t draw the elements.”

  “We’re on our way to a monastery in Heath, to find out more about the sister’s condition,” Jonathan added.

  “All sounds a bit far-fetched and convenient to me,” Wheeler said.

  “We have documents,” Maddy said, in case he’d forgotten about them.

  Jonathan nodded. “They’re in the travel bag in my room. Second door on the left.”

  “But they don’t mention my condition.” The abbess had probably thought it unnecessary, if she’d thought about it at all. She didn’t have any experience with travelling malflowed sisters, so how could she have anticipated the situation in which Maddy and Jonathan were embroiled?

  Wheeler snorted. “Of course they don’t.” He looked past Maddy, disgust written all over his face. He didn’t speak again until he’d opened the door to let more guardsmen into the common room.

 

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