Chapter Fourteen
The dormitory of St. Margaret’s used to be the former storage vault of the castle before the order took over.
It was sunk down into the ground, on a lower level, and it had arched ceilings of stone and floors of hard-packed earth.
That meant in the winter, the cold would seep up through the ground and make it nearly impossible to stay warm.
Not even the braziers could stave off the bone-numbing dampness.
Anaxandra’s bed had a prime location against the wall so she could see the entire chamber.
The dormitory was where everyone slept except for the nuns, who slept in their own chamber on the floor above.
Mother Michael also slept in an alcove off her chapel, as was her right as the leader of the order, but Anaxandra was relegated to the dormitory where everyone else slept.
There were a total of forty-seven women and children at St. Margaret’s—eight nuns, sixteen children, and four mothers who were there with their children, leaving nineteen women who were either widows or simply women who had grown up as foundlings and become part of the army.
It made for a crowded dormitory sometimes.
Morning came before Anaxandra was ready for it.
She was warm and cozy when Sister Hildegarde shook her awake.
It was before dawn and Anaxandra had a day ahead of her that included duties on the wall followed by fashioning more bolts for the crossbows.
Her garden duties were over for the time being, as they weren’t daily.
Therefore, at Sister Hildegarde’s urging, she was up and moving, stumbling out of bed as she headed for a corner of the chamber where the women washed.
Water was already there, having been drawn in buckets by some of the younger members of the group, and she washed her face and used a community reed, frayed, to brush her teeth.
That was how one lived in a commune and most especially with a religious order.
Personal possessions did not include things like combs and teeth-brushing tools.
Washed and brushed, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, tied off with fabric strips, Anaxandra followed Sister Hildegarde out of the dormitory just as some of the other women began to awaken.
“I heard you went into Dumfries with one of the men who came,” Sister Hildegarde said when they were on the ground level. “How was that?”
Anaxandra shrugged. “It was nothing,” she said. “I rode escort so he could purchase medicines for his comrade.”
“What’s his name?”
“Who?”
“The man you escorted.”
“Estevan.”
“Your Estevan is wandering around the bailey,” Sister Hildegarde said as they approached the door that led outside. “He looks like he’s inspecting the compound, and I want to know why. Do you know?”
Anaxandra was fairly certain why. “There seems to be some concern about the injured woman in the sanctuary,” she said. “They think she is in danger.”
“What danger?”
They came to the door and Anaxandra paused, facing the old nun.
“Estevan explained it to me yesterday,” she said.
“As we were leaving Dumfries with the medicine for his friend, we came across an old man who had been beaten. He said the men from the sea had killed his family and that they spoke a language he did not understand.”
Sister Hildegarde wasn’t following. “What does that mean?” she said. “What does that have to do with us?”
“Because the injured woman in the sanctuary was the hostage of a clan called the Ormsfolk,” Anaxandra said quietly.
“They spoke the language that the farmer identified because Estevan knows a little. He was able to speak a little to the old man, who told him that it was the same language his attackers had used. For that reason, Estevan feels that the strangers who beat the man are the Ormsfolk and they are looking for their hostage.”
Now it was starting to make some sense for Sister Hildegarde. “But why would he think that?”
Anaxandra shrugged. “Because of what they did to the farmer,” she said. “They were very brutal, something the Ormsfolk are known for.”
“And he thinks they will come here?”
Anaxandra nodded. “Aye,” she said. “They will look at all of the homes and farms and abbeys near where the woman was found. Especially an abbey—where else would a lost or injured person go? To seek help and comfort within God’s holy sanctuary, of course.
And if they ask Mother Michael if their hostage is here, you know what she will tell them. ”
Sister Hildegarde did. Some of the hardness faded from her face, replaced by awareness of the situation. “Aye, I know,” she said with regret. “She will confirm that the woman is here. She believes in our ability to defend ourselves against anyone. That is the nature of our order.”
“Exactly,” Anaxandra said. “She will not deny it. Estevan says that the Ormsfolk are unlike any people we have faced. He thinks… he thinks they will breach the walls and kill us all.”
Sister Hildegarde pondered that. Unlike Mother Michael, she was pragmatic about life in general. She was older than Mother Margaret and had seen more fighting, more battles. She knew that even the strongest, sometimes, would fail. Especially if an opponent was determined enough.
“Then we are facing something dangerous,” she murmured.
“Estevan believes so.”
“It would be prudent to prepare.”
“How do you mean?”
Sister Hildegarde gestured to the building behind her.
“You know I was a companion of Mother Gabriel,” she said.
“She was our head before Mother Michael was. Mother Gabriel was a believer in preparing for all possibilities, so we should prepare for the prospect of our enemy breaching the complex. First, we must ensure that the children are safe.”
Anaxandra agreed. “We can put them in the dormitory,” she said. “The door is iron. It cannot be burned should our enemy manage to make it inside.”
Sister Hildegarde nodded. “I was thinking the same thing,” she said.
“I will start moving food into the dormitory, discreetly. If Mother Michael sees, she will want to know why I am doing it and become angry with me when I tell her. I know her—she will feel that it is a lack of faith in our abilities.”
“It is not a lack of faith,” Anaxandra said. “It is simply being safe. The children cannot fight. They will need a place to go should St. Margaret’s be attacked.”
“Agreed,” Sister Hildegarde said. Then she waved Anaxandra out of the door. “I will tell her. Go, now. You have duties to attend to. And so do I.”
Anaxandra headed out into the early morning.
Everything was cold and purple as the sun was just starting to rise.
Her breath hung in the air in a cloudy vapor.
She was halfway across the bailey when she noticed Estevan with two men, over near the gatehouse, and her heart did a strange little leap.
She’d never experienced that before and she actually staggered to a halt, hand on her chest because she thought she was becoming ill.
But when she looked at Estevan, it happened again.
The man made her twitch.
She had no idea what to make of it.
He was walking around the bailey with two of the four men he had arrived with.
She didn’t know their names, but she was coming to know their looks.
Both of them were big and muscular, but one was blond and the other had dark hair, like Estevan.
She also knew that his brother had departed the abbey yesterday, but she didn’t know where he was going.
She suspected it had something to do with the Ormsfolk.
Perhaps he’d ridden off to find them.
But perhaps not.
In any case, it seemed so strange to have men at St. Margaret’s, walking the bailey in the early morning.
Anaxandra had been here her entire life and never seen anything like it.
Nor had the other women, and the anomaly had all of the packs talking together, which was something they didn’t normally do.
Usually, the packs stayed to themselves, but in this case, there was a need for information sharing.
Last night, before everyone went to bed, it was all they could talk about.
Since Anaxandra had gone into Dumfries with one of the men in question, everyone had questions for her.
They wanted to know his name and what he was like.
They wanted to know if he was married and to whom.
They wanted to know where he was from. So many questions, and she finally couldn’t answer them anymore, and then they started hypothesizing as to why the knights were still here. Of course, Anaxandra couldn’t comment.
It was a wonder she’d gotten any sleep at all.
Now, she stood in the cold light of morning, watching men she didn’t know plan for a battle that may or may not come.
The thought of a fight didn’t bother her in the least, but when she thought of Estevan fighting, it made her feel sick.
The thought of him in danger turned her stomach.
Certainly, she’d put his life in danger by firing on him on the day he arrived, but that was then. This was now.
She didn’t like the thought of him facing danger at all.
Taking a deep breath and summoning her courage, she approached Estevan and his men.
“Is there something I may help with?” she asked.
They hadn’t seen her coming. The three of them turned to her and Estevan smiled as their eyes met. Seeing his smile made Anaxandra want to smile, but she didn’t want anyone to see that she was smiling at him, so she struggled not to smile.
It made her look like she was grimacing.
“Good morn tae ye, m’lady,” Estevan said. “Did ye sleep well?”
God help her, but her cheeks flushed a dull red at the question. She stood here, proud and strong, prepared to be of assistance, but his smile and kind question had her melting like snow under the sun.
She was an idiot.
“Well enough,” she managed to say. “May I help with what you’re doing?”