Chapter 12
“ Y our companion is taking a meal with the abbess,” the monk said to Darien.
Whitley Abbey was one of a few double monasteries remaining in this part of England that housed both monks and nuns. Though they shared land, their buildings and quarters were completely separate. After arriving without further incident, having met few other travelers thus far, Darien had escorted Liana to the nun’s quarters before arriving at the monastery.
Though they’d arrived well after the evening meal, Darien had visited the abbey’s bathhouse and was offered a tray of food, delivered to his modest lodgings.
“Thank you.” He took the tray from a man who appeared to have seen at least fifty summers. “Brother..??”
“Aldwin.”
He lingered in the doorway long enough that Darien invited him inside. In his experience, while the monks lived and enjoyed a simple life, some also welcomed the opportunity to speak with visitors. And all had something to teach him.
“Would you care to sit with me while I dine?”
“If you do not mind the company.”
Darien pulled out one of two wooden chairs next to the table where he placed the tray.
“Have you stayed with us before?”
Darien offered the monk some of his bread, but he declined, shaking his head. Finished chewing, he nodded. “Aye. Though more often bed at Greystone Manor.”
“You’ve heard the baron passed recently?”
Darien took a sip of the wine he’d been provided. As expected, it was quite good. The monks and nuns, may live simply, but they did not do it with bad wine. “I did not. We’ve come here instead...”
He stopped.
The monk, astute, watched Darien, who’d uncharacteristically spoken without thinking. Being on the road all day with Liana, after last eve, had thrown him off-kilter. He’d assumed the bond she had discussed last eve was the one that set them on this path together. But then today...
You are an earl’s son. I am the seer’s daughter. A witch, as many of the villagers believe. We are not meant for anything more than the same relationship as our parents.
If he was unsure what she had meant by “anything more,” the way she reacted, and his terror at seeing Liana race downhill, clarified her words.
“You came here instead?” the monk pressed, his eyes thoughtful.
Perhaps it was knowing his words would not leave this bedchamber. Or the kindness, and wisdom, in the man’s expression. Even with his friends, old and new, the recruits he now called brothers at Castle Blackwood, Darien had not been one for confidences. His troubles were his own. The earls of Ellswood were masters of keeping secrets, and he was no exception.
Whatever the reason, though, Darien wanted to share what had been on his mind since he decided to travel this path.
“As a monk, you are bound to discretion, aye?”
Brother Aldwin leaned forward, his brown robe shifting beneath him. “Anything you share in confidence will remain as such.”
Was he really going to tell a stranger something Darien had never uttered aloud to anyone in his life before? He hesitated.
“You have my vow on the God I’ve offered my life to serve, Sir Darien of Ellsworth.”
Startled, Darien thought back, trying to remember if he had offered the monk his name. He had not.
“Aye, I know of you.”
“But,” Darien argued, “you asked if I’d stayed here before?” Had the monk asked a question he already knew the answer to?
“Because I had not seen you at Whitley Abbey before.”
“Then how?—”
“Word travels through these halls. They said the earl’s son was not far from here, with a woman. A scribe, if rumors are true. That bow”—he nodded to Darien’s prized possession—“is not a common weapon for one of noble birth.”
It was true, archery was a valued skill but more often one associated with common-born soldiers. A knight, especially one of noble blood, would be trained in swordsmanship, lance combat, and mounted warfare. But from a young age, the bow and arrow appealed to Darien. To him, it was a symbol of stealth and precision. Besides, he had no use for what “should” be, preferring instead what he felt to be right for himself and his people.
This monk was as wise and observant as Darien first believed. Finishing a bite of meat, he took a sip of wine, sat back and decided to speak freely. For once.
“She is not a scribe but a seer, which I know you, the church, take exception to. Her family has been advising mine for generations, and Liana read something in the runes that we hope will further crystallize. We came here, rather than to Greystone Manor, because I do not wish to draw attention to my companion.”
“Seers, healers,” Brother Aldwin said. “Those who walk paths others fear or misunderstand—they serve a purpose far greater than the small judgments of men. Liana may not fit the mold others wish to force upon her, but does that mean her gifts should be hidden? Or that you should distance yourself from her because the world may not understand?”
He leaned forward even more, the monk’s voice lowering as if sharing a secret.
“Sometimes, the strongest bonds are formed not in spite of our differences, but because of them. What we fear to embrace in others often mirrors what we fear to embrace in ourselves. Perhaps it is not the secrecy of your families’ shared history that troubles you, but your own unwillingness to see past it.”
Darien had been right to share. Brother Aldwin was everything he’d expected him to be.
“I will think carefully on your words.”
Sitting back, as if satisfied Darien would do just that, he sighed. “I too, as a young man, once struggled with such a predicament. I was nobly born, and there was a woman in the village I cared for very much. She was common born, and I had not the courage to claim her. Instead, she married the blacksmith. Bore two children before I left home to become a monk.”
“You...” He had so many questions, Darien did not know which to ask first.
“I have been in love two times in my life: with the woman I did not have the courage to marry and with God. I choose to serve the latter, having given up rights to the former.”
Light from the single candle sitting beside Darien’s tray flickered, catching his attention. He watched it for a moment, and then turned back to Brother Aldwin.
“Do you regret the choice?”
Surely he did not. Darien expected him to say that serving God had been his true purpose. That had been the plan for him all along, the woman whose love he lost naught but a lesson.
He didn’t answer at first.
But then, getting up slowly as if the motion pained him, Brother Aldwin stood straight. The look he gave Darien was filled with certainty, as if his answer was both of theirs, not that Darien had a question. Their situations were vastly different.
“Every day of my life.”
The admission struck Darien as if it were one with far greater weight than the secret he had shared with Brother Aldwin. If he guessed correctly, Darien was not the only one to have revealed a secret this night.
Smiling, as if underpinning his admission, the monk reached for the tray. Darien handed it to him, keeping the wine, and stood as well.
“Do not make my mistake, Sir Darien. Good eve, and may God guide you on your travels and offer safety on your mission.”
Still speechless, he bid the monk good eve and only thought of a response after the monk had left. He should have thanked him, both for the food and conversation. He should have said so much more, but instead, Darien had stood mute, shocked but also surprisingly comforted at having offered an admission he’d never given aloud before.
Liana may not fit the mold others wish to force upon her, but does that mean her gifts should be hidden?
Perhaps it is not the secrecy of your families’ shared history that troubles you, but your own unwillingness to see past it.
His advice was sound, but also hinted at changing how the earls of Ellsworth had functioned for hundreds of years. More importantly, what had the wise monk offered on Darien’s growing feelings toward Liana?
His advice was not subtle.
Brother Aldwin regretted losing the woman he loved, even when pursuing her likely would have cost him much. But Darien’s situation was different. He did not love Liana. He desired her. Respected her. Was in awe of her, in fact. But he did not love her.
If he had, Darien would indeed have much to consider. Too much, for their mission was more important at present. The future of England at stake. Even so, as Darien later closed his eyes to rest, it wasn’t the empress or the king or politics he thought of. Instead, Darien wondered what Liana was doing at that moment. If she were sleeping already.
And mostly, he wondered if she thought of him.