Chapter Seven
The Girl on the Shore
DEORWINE STRUGGLED TO keep pace with his friend’s long stride, his cheeks pink from the wind that buffeted the island. “We should go back, Leo. We’ll be late for None.”
Leofric cast him an irritated look. “We’re not far away from the monastery. We’ll hear the bell ring for prayers.”
“But if you’re late again—”
“For the love of Christ, Deorwine will you stop nagging.”
Deorwine’s face hardened. “If the prior hears you speaking like that, he’ll wash your mouth out with lye.”
The two young men walked along the southern edge of the island, past Pilgrims’ Way—the tidal pathway that linked it with the mainland.
It was mid-afternoon, and the tide was rising fast. Leofric looked out across the swirling water and marveled at how just how quickly the tide came in here.
When they had emerged from the monastery a short while earlier, there had been nothing but an expanse of glittering sand and mud.
When Leofric made his escape from this place, he would have to time it carefully.
Even the threat of death at the hands of Godwine of Eoforwic was not enough to keep him on Lindisfarena.
Leofric would leave here and travel far away to a place the ealdorman would never find him.
If he got desperate, he could always venture up into the wilds of Pictland or to the Kingdom of the Franks across the sea, south of Britannia.
Wherever he ultimately went, one thing was certain: his days upon this foul rock were numbered.
Leofric planned to take a walk along this path often, at different times of day, so that he could track the ebb and flow of the tides. It appeared the mornings and evenings were the safest times to cross to the mainland, although he needed to watch the tides for another couple of days to be sure.
Of course, he had not shared his plans with Deorwine—and nor would he. They had become as close as brothers of late, but he knew his friend would try to stop him or go to the prior.
Leofric took in his surroundings: the rough track, worn smooth by monks’ feet; and the windswept hill studded with a few stunted trees that rose to his right, blocking his view of the sea to the north.
Then his gaze shifted south out across the water to the outline of the great rock of Bebbanburg in the distance.
He could see the palisades outlined against the pale sky, smoke drifting up from the roof of the Great Tower rising above it.
The fortress fascinated Leofric; he wondered what it was like up close.
Deorwine suddenly stopped, catching hold of Leofric’s sleeve. “There’s something up ahead—look!”
Leofric reluctantly turned away from Bebbanburg and looked north, up the shore to where Deorwine was pointing.
His friend was right. It was still some way off, and at first looked like a rumpled pile of sacking lying upon the smooth sand.
However, as he stared at it, Leofric realized that it was not sacking at all.
It looks like … a body.
Without uttering a word, he set off at a run down the narrow track with Deorwine close at his heels.
The nearer he got, the surer he became that a corpse had washed up on the beach.
He saw a glimmer of pale blonde hair. The figure was small and laying face down on the sand.
At first, he thought it was a child, but as he drew closer he changed his mind.
The figure, although small, had too many curves to be that of a child.
Behind him, he heard Deorwine mutter a prayer, for he too had realized what had washed up on the shore: a young woman.
Leofric reached the prone figure and knelt at her side.
The girl lay above the rising water, and Leofric wondered if she had been all morning, since the last high tide.
She wore a sodden woolen dress, which had tangled around her slim legs, and her feet were bare.
Her hair, the color of sea foam, was plastered against her skull.
Deorwine crouched next to Leofric, his sensitive face creased in concern. “Is she dead?”
“I don’t know—help me roll her over.”
Together, they shifted the girl over onto her back. Her eyes were closed, and her skin chalk-white. For a moment Leofric feared the worst. Then he leaned over her, placing his cheek just above her nose and slightly parted lips—and felt her breath feather against his skin.
“She’s alive!”
Deorwine gasped. “She is?”
“Aye,” Leofric murmured, “although she won’t keep breathing for much longer if we don’t get her inside and warm. Help me carry her.”
Deorwine rose to his feet, his expression perturbed. “Shouldn’t we go and get help instead. We shouldn’t really touch a woman … we’re monks.”
“Not yet, we’re not,” Leofric reminded him, “and the prior won’t think highly of a postulant who lets a woman die on the shore because he was loath to touch her.”
That settled it. Deorwine lived in fear of disappointing Father Cuthbert. Reluctantly Deorwine stepped forward and took hold of the girl by the calves, while Leofric lifted her by her shoulders. Together, they turned and started back along the path toward the monastery.
Although she was small, the girl was a dead weight in their arms, and both men were out of breath by the time they reached the final incline to the complex. As they struggled up the hill, the bell for None—afternoon prayers—sounded; a hollow clanging that echoed across the island.
“We’ll be late!” Deorwine sounded panicked and for a moment, Leofric thought his friend was going to drop the girl and flee; such was his terror of tardiness. However, Deorwine merely hurried his pace, jogging up the last stretch to the first of the buildings.
“Where should we put the girl?” Deorwine panted. “Should we take her straight to Cuthbert?”
“Not yet,” Leofric replied. “One of the store huts isn’t being used at the moment—we’ll put her in there.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, you’ll only make us later.”
They carried the girl into the store hut, a small, ramshackle building on the edge of the complex.
The air smelled of barley and onions, the last things to be stored in here.
Leofric laid the girl down on some sacking.
There was no time for anything else at present.
Still, he hesitated—Leofric did not like to leave her here alone when she was clearly in need of help.
Despite his concern, Leofric found himself silently admiring her.
The girl was lovely. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face; full and beautifully molded lips—and although he could not see her eyes, her dark blonde eyelashes lay against her smooth skin like butterfly wings.
His gaze traveled down her body then, appreciating the lush swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and curve of her hips—made evident due to the wet wool of her clothing that clung to her like a second skin.
Nothing the direction of Leofric’s gaze, Deorwine scowled at him. He shoved Leofric toward the door. “Enough. We’d better get to prayers.”
They hurried across the deserted yard toward the church; all the other monks were already inside and the low chant of male voices reached them as they neared the entrance. They were just about to go in when Leofric pulled Deorwine up short.
“Don’t say anything to Cuthbert for now,” Leofric warned his friend.
Deorwine’s eyes grew huge. “We can’t hide this from him!”
Leofric set his jaw stubbornly and pinned Deorwine with a hard stare. “Yes, we can. Best not to bother the prior. Don’t worry—I’ll take full responsibility for it.”
Deorwine stared at him a moment before reluctantly nodding. “I’ll do what you say for now—but I think you’re being a fool.”
Leofric grinned at him. “That’s never stopped me before.”
“Late again?” The disappointment in the prior’s voice made Leofric cringe inside.
He and Deorwine stood before Cuthbert in the empty church. The None prayers had ended and the other monks had returned to their chores.
Cuthbert’s gaze shifted to Deorwine and his pursed mouth puckered further. “Only this time you are not alone.”
“It’s not Brother Deorwine’s fault,” Leofric interjected. “I insisted we take a walk along the shore after our chores. He didn’t want to go far, but I told him we could easily get back to the church for prayers … I was wrong.”
Cuthbert’s gaze shifted to Leofric, his expression hardening. “At least you no longer bother with insincere apologies.”
Next to Leofric, Deorwine blanched at the prior’s censure. “I … I am sorry—”
“Quiet.” The force of Cuthbert’s command choked off whatever Deorwine was about to say next. “You are too easily led, Brother Deorwine. You must not let Leofric tempt you from the path of piety, diligence, and obedience.”
Deorwine bowed his head in wordless apology while Leofric silently bristled at these words. Christ, the prior can be a sanctimonious prick.
As if reading his mind, Cuthbert’s gaze snapped back to him, his face suddenly hawkish.
“Tomorrow, you will both spend all morning and all afternoon in silent prayer at my side.”
Leofric nodded although he was silently fuming at the command. “Yes, Father.”
Outside, Leofric stalked across the yard, ignoring the stare of one of the monks who was scattering grains for fowl.
The frequency with which Leofric got into trouble provided the only excitement to the monastery’s endless routine.
He had begun to realize that many of the younger monks were in awe of him—something Leofric found disconcerting.
He had never attracted so much attention in his life.
“We should have told the prior about the girl,” Deorwine hissed in Leofric’s ear as they made their way toward the store huts. “He’ll banish us both if he finds out.”
“Of course he won’t,” Leofric replied, gently elbowing his friend. “You worry too much.”
Deorwine’s answering frown spoke volumes. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile that they were both the same age—Deorwine often acted like a boring older brother. “And you don’t worry nearly enough.”
They were now out of earshot of the monks who worked in the monastery’s central yard. However, they still needed to be careful for there would be flapping ears—Cuthbert’s spies—everywhere.
Leofric stopped and turned to Deorwine, lowering his voice further. “Go to the kitchens and get yourself a cup of broth and a piece of bread while I see if I can find some blankets and a dry robe for the girl.”
Deorwine blanched. “But it’s not yet supper; the brothers on kitchen duty won’t give me any food.”
Leofric’s gaze narrowed. “Tell them the prior asked for it, tell them whatever you must to get the food. She’ll die without it.”
Not waiting for his friend to make another feeble excuse, Leofric turned on his heel and stalked off to find some blankets.