Chapter 5
Kallen stepped out into the cool day. Mass now ended, her fast broken, her few personal articles gathered together, she was ready to embark upon her journey to Mangeron, which was far to the south. Savina arranged with Sir Griffith the day before for them to depart early this morning.
She gazed about her, the sight so familiar, a place she dreaded and longed to break free from. Yet suddenly it called to her like a siren’s song, begged her not to leave the protected land nestled behind stone walls.
What would the outside world hold for her? What would her family be like? Would they truly welcome her as Savina had promised?
Kallen shivered, wondering if going to strangers was the right choice. Her home had always been the convent. Bevia had been as a sister to her, and they grew up playing together, side-by-side with their dolls.
Eventually, she outgrew their child’s play, and she became mother and Bevia her child, especially during those long months when Bevia slipped away, illness eating at her.
Savina became her only family after that.
Savina, her lifeline, her rock. How could she leave her truest and dearest companion behind?
Kallen watched as the gate opened and a group of riders entered the convent’s land.
Her insides fluttered uncontrollably. Leaving couldn’t be right, not if she felt as sick to her stomach as this.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore that she was different, that the nuns had been unkind, that they poked fun of and were cruel to her over the years.
Those were just echoes of Mother Superior’s feelings.
Surely it would be different with Savina as abbess now. The nuns might not ever grow to love her, but they would tolerate her, for the new Mother’s sake.
She turned to Savina, the only one who’d come to see her off, and fought her spreading panic. Before she could speak, though, a sense of calm enveloped her, the sheer beauty of color surrounding Savina reassuring her.
Savina’s aura was pure silver. Her goodness and selflessness, her virtuous grace was evident in the color that bathed her.
As Savina watched her, Kallen saw shoots of blue, like wisps of smoke, rise from the silver.
Kallen felt her friend’s peace, the contemplative air, and the bits of sadness at Kallen’s leaving.
The older woman smiled. “’Tis your day, Kallen. The one you always longed for.” She cupped Kallen’s cheek, her hand light and smooth, and she stroked Kallen’s face with her thumb. “I will miss you, my child. You will be in my prayers, every morn and every eve.”
“Savina, mayhap I—”
Savina cut her off. “I know you don’t trust others much, my girl. But you have a sweet spirit about you. These de Mangerons will grow to love you, despite your curiosity and mischievous ways.”
She couldn’t help but smile. Savina knew her too well. Yet still Kallen’s uncertainty lingered.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she confessed. “I already am cautious about every word I speak. I fear I might slip. They might learn that I... see things.”
Savina spoke softly. “Remember, Kallen, your sight is a gift from God. God will one day use you and your gift for good.”
Kallen bowed her head and closed her eyes. She wondered how her new family would feel about her if she told them what she could do. If they would think her sight a gift from God.
Savina lifted Kallen’s chin, and she opened her eyes to view her confidant one last time. The nun’s eyes misted with tears, and Kallen felt hers do the same.
“Go now, and may the Almighty be with you always.” Savina kissed Kallen’s cheek and held her tightly for a moment before she drew away.
The abbess turned to the escort party, which had stopped a short distance away.
Kallen watched as Sir Griffith came toward them.
The nobleman was tall, his warm brown eyes the color of his hair, his build strong and powerful.
Kallen knew this man would protect her well until she reached her new family.
“Take good care of her, Sir Griffith. She is a gift from God.”
The nobleman bowed to Savina. “Lady Kallen will be in good hands, Abbess. I shall send word to you when we arrive safely at Mangeron.”
Savina wiped away a tear. “Then if you’ll excuse me, my lord. I must return to my duties.” She glanced at Kallen. “The Lord be with you.”
“And also with you,” Kallen replied.
She watched Savina hurry briskly back into the convent. A feeling of immense loneliness washed over her. She would never let these men see it, though.
Being with so many men at one time worried her. Father Michael came around occasionally, but this company of men and their thundering horses already intimidated her. Kallen squared her shoulders. She decided to tamp down her fears and speak boldly. They would not see a coward in her.
She turned and smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel. “I am ready, Sir Griffith,” she told her escort.
He offered her an arm and accompanied her to the men gathered on horseback. “I have brought a gentle mount for you, my lady. Have you done much riding?”
Kallen laughed. “Much? I’d say none at all.”
Griffith groaned inwardly. He should have expected as much. Totally convent-bred, he guessed Kallen had probably never left the grounds of the nunnery, much less experienced what a woman of her class and breeding would have under ordinary circumstances.
“This might make things a bit difficult,” he said aloud.
Kallen giggled. “Are you already dreading the journey, my lord? Do you see me holding on for dear life as I bounce upon the back of a runaway mare? Mayhap you should plan on a fortnight and no less before we reach Mangeron.”
That’s exactly what he pictured. “No, my lady, I’m sure we’ll make excellent time.”
“Have you accounted for the number of times I’ll be tossed from my saddle? And then will be the time lost picking twigs and leaves from my hair. After each fall, of course. You will want me to look presentable, I’m sure, to any passersby.”
She sighed. “At least the bruises will not show overmuch. I shall try my best not to land face down any time I am thrown, but I cannot promise no broken bones shall occur.”
The men snickered good-naturedly, and Griffith himself couldn’t help but smile at the picture she painted.
“Then do you have a suggestion, Lady Kallen? Or would walking better suit you? Of course, Lord de Mangeron did not give me enough coin to buy the number of pairs of shoes you would wear out if we allow you to go afoot the entire distance.”
He watched Kallen cock her head suddenly and stare at Satan. She frowned a minute and then nodded. “This horse will let me ride him. He promises to be on his best behavior. I think I could handle him.”
Griffith shook his head as several of the men let out loud guffaws. He shot a warning look at them before he turned back to Kallen. “My lady, I fear Satan can be quite ill-tempered at times. If you hesitate to ride a gentle mare, I’m afraid riding Satan is quite out of the question.”
Kallen cocked her head once again as she gazed at Satan, almost as if she were listening to him. An eerie feeling passed quickly through Griffith as he watched her.
She brightened. “No, I think we understand each other. Please ride with us, my lord, since I am inexperienced in the saddle. I’m sure you can make suitable corrections in my riding. By the time we reach Mangeron, I’ll be quite skilled.”
Kallen stepped over and began to stroke Satan’s velvet nose. The horse nickered in a way Griffith never heard before. If he didn’t known better, he’d think his horse had just fallen in love.
“Very well then. I shall mount up, and we shall ride together.” He climbed into his saddle and leaned down. Grasping Kallen by the waist, he lifted her up in front of him.
Calling out to the men, he said, “We may not travel as far today as I expected, since Lady Kallen is unused to riding. We shall take several breaks along the course of the day.”
The group responded amiably, and Griffith spurred Satan on and out the gates of the nunnery.
“Don’t be frightened,” he told Kallen. “Satan can be testy, but he’s a good steed.”
“Oh, I know he is, despite the fact he was mistreated.”
Griffith stiffened behind her. She’d done it now.
Kallen wished she could leap from the horse and kick herself.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t err.
She’d begged God to keep her tongue from flapping in the wind.
She wanted to be accepted for herself and certainly didn’t want her new family frightened of her. Or her so-called gifts.
“How did you know Satan was mistreated?” Griffith asked warily.
Oh, there was that tone. The first time she said something that made another exercise caution around her. Quick, think of something. What?
Then she heard the whisper of how she could smooth things over.
Thank you, Satan, she said, not aloud, only in her mind.
But she knew Satan heard her. Animals always did. Just as she heard them.
“Why, I saw the scar along his side when you mounted. On an all-black horse, ‘tis rather obvious. And I couldn’t help but notice the marks between his eyes. Now, my lord, do not think I accuse you of these things. I’m sure they happened long before you rescued Satan.”
He tensed again. Maybe she shouldn’t have used the word rescue. That might have given it away.
Quickly, she added, “I perceive him to be in fine condition now. I’ll wager you are much kinder to him than the previous master that abused him.
I can guess you must brush him every day and indulge him in all sorts of treats.
” In fact, Kallen knew this to be the case, for Satan had just told her so.