“I will be back before the sun is a hand’s breadth over the horizon,” I whispered. “Do not do anything foolish in the meantime, Jai.”
She did not answer. I could not see her face down there, only a figure in white next to the faint lamp glow. Then I heard her voice come up out of the hole, deep and husky.
“Be careful, Maresi. My sister.”
The first thing I noticed was the lack of noise. No doors opening and shutting, no well winch creaking, no happy shouts from playful girls. The Abbey had never been so quiet and still. I could hear anxious bleating from the goat house where the goats were waiting for their morning milking. The sound only intensified the ear-piercing silence.
A silence much like the one that emanated from the Crone’s door.
It was dawn, but the sun had not risen yet and the Abbey still lay in half-light. From my place up on the mountainside I could see the familiar shapes of the Abbey buildings below. Nearest to me was the Temple of the Rose, with its longest side against the steep face of the mountain. I could not see the Temple Yard behind it but I could see Knowledge House and Knowledge Garden to its right. The garden had been desecrated. Plants had been ripped up by the roots or stamped down into the soil. The sea breeze carried the smell of the dying plants: peppery, bitter, and sweet.
The central courtyard lay in shadow to my left, and beyond that was the Hearth Yard on the slopes up to White Lady. The door to Hearth House was open.
The men were nowhere to be seen. This frightened me even more than when I could actually see them with their shining daggers and tattooed hands.
I crept down the mountain slope. At first there were some bushes and cypress trees to hide behind, but farther down there was only grass and the thick leaves of korr-root. I went as quietly as I could. There is a narrow path between the Temple of the Rose and Knowledge House that does not lead anywhere but comes to an end at the outer wall that runs close behind the houses. The outer wall is not high there—nobody imagined intruders could get over the mountain and attack from the northeast—but it was still too high for me to get over. Dori’s Bird was perched on top of it.
Its blue tail feathers looked black in the pale dawn light. It flitted nervously about and looked down at the Temple Yard. I stopped just below it.
“Bird,” I said, and still today I do not know why I did this. “Bird, where is Dori?”
Bird turned around and peered down at me. Its dark eyes were shining.
Then it let out a short squawk and flew down onto my head. Its sharp claws scratched my scalp and tangled my hair. I tried to lift it off but then another pair of claws gripped me by the forearm. My hair had fallen forward, so I could not see what kind of bird it was. As I carefully tried to shake it off, yet another bird landed on my shoulder, then the other shoulder, then on my hands. I was gripped by pair after pair of claws, which, though sharp, did not harm me. I lost count of how many birds there were and I stood totally still under the weight of them all until suddenly the weight disappeared. I was flying. In a flash, the birds lifted me and let me down again, then silently flew away. At that point I could not even be sure there ever were any birds. All I knew was that, when Bird jumped down from my head onto my right hand and I brushed the hair out of my face with my left, I found myself on the other side of the outer wall. From there I could follow the path between Knowledge House and the Temple of the Rose into the Temple Yard. I saw shadowy movements. Then I could hear voices—coarse, dark voices that did not belong here.
I hurried up to Knowledge House and pressed myself against its wall. Bird flew away from my hand and I carefully peeked around the corner.
Bird sat on the ledge of one of the rose windows. It tapped on the glass with its long beak and cawed forlornly. A stone came flying from the yard. It missed Bird by a hair’s breadth and smashed a hole through the reddish glass. Male laughter came from the yard. Bird rose in a cloud of caws and ruffled red and blue feathers, but landed again at once, even though it knew it was at risk of being aimed at again.
Dori had to be in the Temple.
The shadows of the men moved to and fro in the yard. When another stone hit a windowpane right next to Bird, it gave up and flew onto the roof ridge. I heard laughter and rough voices. One of the men came into my sight and stood with his back to me. I could see his shaved head and tree-trunk thighs. I recognized him by the dagger that glinted on his belt: long and saw-toothed. It was the one who seemed senior to the others in the crew. The one who had stood so close to the Rose. A tattooed hand clutched a large stone. The hand was missing several fingers. The man looked up to the roof where Bird was perched out of throwing distance.
“We haven’t found her yet, so what makes you think we’re going to?” a voice said, and the man turned to look at the speaker. “Sarjan’s been listening to tall tales. She’s not here. We should sail away. That storm wasn’t natural, whatever Sarjan says.”
The fingerless man shrugged. “So we do what we really came here to do. Then we can sail away and look somewhere else.”
“Sail home you mean,” snorted a third man. “I heard that little sissy Vinjan say there’s masses of silver in that house up there.” He pointed at the Moon Yard. “That’s where we can get our payment from.”
“And from in there.” The fingerless man pointed at the Temple of the Rose and the men exploded into laughter.
I had to find a way to see what was happening inside the Temple.
Just behind me was the low wall that guarded Knowledge Garden. It runs at right angles to the outer wall that guards the Abbey. I climbed up and balanced on the low wall, facing the higher one. It was not difficult to climb onto the outer wall from there. It is wide and easy to walk on. There is nothing to hide behind, but I took the risk and ran along it, past the narrow path where the men could easily see me from the Temple Yard, if they happened to look in my direction at that moment. I did not hear anything so assumed they had not seen me. When I reached the back side of the Temple I was at eye level with the high window that is sunk into a deep niche in the wall. I managed to leap over into the niche. The glass is colored, so there was a chance that I could see in better than they could see me through it.
I cupped my hands around my eyes and peeked in.
When my eyes eventually adjusted to the dark I could see the whole Temple hall. Novices and sisters were cramped between the columns, quiet and still. They were facing the door with their backs to me. I tried to count to check they were all there. I thought about Cissil, Sister Ers, and Joem, who were alone up in Hearth House when the men came. It was difficult to see in the scant light and every time I counted I came to a different total. But when a novice moved by one of the columns the red light from the window lit up her copper-colored hair. It was Cissil. She was alive.
After a little while I could see the men more clearly. Two by the door and three up on the platform, playing dice.
Dice. In the Temple of the Rose.
I knew that the men had defiled the island simply by stepping ashore, but this hit me harder than anything else. Men in the Temple of the Rose. The Goddess had not managed to hold them back.
The Temple doors were heaved open. Jai’s father stormed in. He was followed by the men I had seen him give orders to, the ones who had called him Uncle and Brother. Everybody had curved silver daggers shining in their belts. Jai’s father’s was clearly the most valuable, with red jewels on the hilt. They marched past the huddle of women and up to the platform.
“Where is she?” said Jai’s father. His low voice was more menacing than his shout. “I want to talk to the leader!”
There was a jostle amongst the group of women. Mother made her way forward to the steps. Jai’s father pointed at her.
“One last time. Where is my daughter?”
Mother met his gaze but did not answer. He cursed, came down the steps, and smacked Mother hard in the mouth, flinging her head back. She did not so much as take one step back. The three men who sat playing dice got to the
ir feet immediately, expecting something to happen, but nothing did.
“There, you see?” Jai’s father turned toward the diceplayers. “You are afraid of them but they do not have any magic powers. It was a storm like any other storm the ship has been through, nothing to do with them. They are ordinary weak women just like back home.”
Slowly, as if he were instructing a class of novices, he pulled out his dagger and pressed the point to Mother’s breast. He poked gently, as if testing to see how much force it would take to pierce the old woman’s flesh.
“We have searched through every building several times, Uncle Sarjan,” said a younger man, gesturing outside. He had a thin blond moustache. “She’s not here. She must have left before we came, maybe as soon as the storm calmed down.” He sounded almost pleading.
“Shut your mouth, Vinjan,” Jai’s father hissed. “She is here. I know it. There was someone inside the locked library. I want to know where she went.” He turned around and pointed at his nephew with the tip of his dagger. “It is just as much in your interest to find her as it is in mine, don’t you see? With this shame to our name no one will ever be willing to give you their daughter to marry. You will not find any work and you will become the laughing stock of every honorable man.”
Vinjan backed down, but I saw a look of despair come over his face.
Sarjan turned back to Mother. “We will not leave your island until we find her. I can wait. But . . .” He pointed with his dagger to the three dice-players, “I do not think the crew can.”
When Mother still did not say a word he grabbed her by her shoulders. “Blame yourself then. I truly tried to be an honorable man and protect you from these beasts. They are hired help, you understand. Petty criminals, jobless sailors, men on the run from the law. They want reward for their trouble. They are tired of waiting now.”
Sarjan stepped back and nodded to his men. “Go ahead. Do what you like. But wait until we are outside. I do not want to hear.” He signaled to his brother and nephew to follow him down the steps. Vinjan walked very fast with his head hung low.
The door closed behind them, but the men still did not move. They eyed the sisters and novices suspiciously. They fingered their weapons. They were still afraid. Sailors know that lulls and storms like they experienced at the island do not simply come out of nowhere.
But Cissil was standing there with her shiny copper hair and smooth white skin. One man grabbed hold of his knife with one hand and her arm with the other. She struggled, but nothing else happened. The man smiled broadly.
“Help yourselves!”
The other two came down the steps at once and into the cluster of women, choosing their prey. There was a quarrel at the door about which guard had to stay at his post. They still did not entirely trust that the Abbey’s women would not fight back.
I saw some of them spit on the floor and touch the edges of their blades, as if to protect themselves from evil spells.
Cissil screamed. Somebody rushed forward and grabbed her other arm. It was Joem.
“No!” she cried, and I could hear her voice very clearly. “No, not her!”
I knew that she would reveal where Jai was hiding. I wanted to scream, rush forward and stop her. My heart was beating so fast my head was swimming. Joem stood in front of Cissil. I could not see Joem’s face, but she stretched out her arms and hid Cissil from view.
“Take me,” said Joem.
The man laughed vulgarly.
“You? Instead of the redhead? Don’t be a fool.” He tried to push Joem aside but she did not budge. Instead she kicked him hard in the most vulnerable place for a man. He doubled over in pain, but not for long. The next moment his fist flew through the air and met Joem’s face with a terrible smacking sound. She collapsed by his feet. He grabbed Cissil by the hair with one hand and raised his knife with the other. Around the Temple more exposed daggers gleamed. This was not the resistance the men feared. There were no magic winds or inexplicable storms. This was resistance they understood, even welcomed. They had the scent of blood in their nostrils.
“Wait!” cried a voice. It was soft but still cut through all the noise.
The Rose ran up to the platform. She took off her nightgown and stood there completely naked, bathing in the first blood-red rays of the morning, which streamed in through the mosaic windows. Her hair tumbled down her back in shining curls, her breasts were full and her soft skin shimmered. She was so beautiful that nobody in the Temple could take their eyes off her. I saw what the men could not see: she was no longer servant to the Rose. She was the Goddess herself, the one who knows all the secrets of women’s bodies, and all who saw her were under the enchantment of her radiant beauty.
“I am the priestess of this Temple. Servant to the Maiden. Do you even know what that means?” She opened her arms and her smile was so beautifully compelling and powerful it hurt my eyes. “You will not have to fight with me, I will not resist. No risk of scratch marks. No tears or struggle. And I know what I am doing. I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.” The Rose’s voice was no longer her own, it was deep and resonant and I recognized something of the Crone’s tones. The Maiden and the Crone; the beginning and the end. She pointed at the man who was still holding Cissil in a strong grip. “You are first. Follow me.”
There was no chance that he would not obey. When she turned around and went through the rosewood door, the man followed her buttocks with his eyes. He let go of Cissil and bounded toward her.
“Borte, guard the door. I don’t want to be disturbed.” His voice sounded drunk on the beauty of the Goddess. “You’ll get your turn next. Be patient. Someone has to keep an eye on the rabble here. They’re not to be trusted.”
“She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” muttered Borte and crossed his arms. “Make sure you don’t ruin her for the rest of us.”
The door closed behind him.
Noises came from the altar room. Noises I did not want to hear.
Mother raised her arms. “The song of the Rose! Sing!”
She began to sing. All of the other women and girls joined in, singing in praise of the Maiden and the Rose and her wisdom and beauty, and though the men tried to stop them, they had no power against the women’s song.
Crouched in the window niche, I buried my face in my hands. I did not need to look inside to know what was happening. The song said it all. Morning had come and it was time to go back to Jai and the little girls as I had promised. But I could not bring myself to leave the Temple while the men were going into the altar room one after another. I heard the Temple’s main door open and shut several times. The men who were standing guard out in the yard were taking their turn too. Leaving would be like betraying the Rose.
By the time the singing stopped it was already midmorning. I sat up and cupped my hands to peer through the window. The man who was missing some fingers, the one who had thrown stones at Bird, was sitting on the marble steps and looking at his dagger. The blade was no longer clean. The edge was matted with something dark. The fingerless man did not polish the blade, he just studied it, intently and contentedly. This was a man who liked the sight of blood.
No sounds came from the altar room. The Temple was quiet again. I had to get back to Jai. I got up and turned to leave, but a loud crash made me turn around again.
Sarjan stood in the door. Okret and Vinjan stood behind him.
“My patience has run out,” he said completely calmly. “Woman, come here.”
Mother walked over to him. Sarjan stepped into the Temple followed by even more of the hired crew. There were about fifteen men in total in the Temple now.
I could see Mother standing in profile, the morning light from the door falling on her sturdy figure and silver hair. The sunlight showed everything in sharp detail. Sarjan drew his dagger and held it out. It glinted in the sun as he turned it over and studied it awhile. When he spoke it was not to Mother, but to the blade itself.
“We have searched
through every house on this damned island. We even discovered the other abbey in the valley, but all we found there were two scared old women. My daughter is nowhere to be found.” Sarjan wiped an invisible fleck from the dagger with his sleeve and then stuck it in his belt. He nudged the fingerless man, who was now standing by Mother, the stained dagger in his hand.
“Give me your dagger.” The fingerless man hesitated a moment before handing over his weapon. “The men have had a little reward but they will not stay calm for long, as you well know.” He turned to Mother and raised the dagger to her chin. “So I am asking one last time—where is the harlot? Where is my ungrateful daughter who ran away from home and brought shame and dishonor to our whole family?”
“You have no daughter here,” answered Mother and raised her chin as if to meet the knife’s tip.
Sarjan shook his head. “See now, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. But I know that the answer is somewhere inside that hag mouth of yours.” He grabbed Mother’s chin and pried open her jaws. “I only have to dig it out.” He stuck the saw-toothed dagger into her mouth and made a small movement.
A thin trickle of blood ran out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin. I put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. Mother stood completely still.
“I only have to find it,” said Sarjan thoughtfully. “Where is that answer I want?” He moved the dagger again and another trickle of blood ran down the other corner of her mouth. He removed the blade and looked contentedly at its bloody edge before letting go of Mother’s chin. “Well?”
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