Chapter 13 No News Is Good News
No News Is Good News
Struan didn’t come to breakfast. He’d never joined them in the feast hall before, but Una had let herself hope that today would be different. After yesterday, surely everything was different.
She’d felt as though she were walking on clouds all day, even though she never had the opportunity to see Struan again after they’d left the training fields.
She told herself that it wasn’t his fault.
Of course he had to go where his guards wanted.
Of course he was confined to his cell more often than not.
Had she thought they’d go skipping in to supper together, hand in hand?
I don’t even want that, she told herself furiously. That was never part of the plan.
She flinched when Kai slapped something down on the table in front of her. In fact, she jumped so hard she sent porridge flicking away down the table. She glared up at her brother.
“What was that for?”
He grinned. “Ye were away with the fae, lassie.”
“I was thinking. Ye should try it sometime.”
“Uh-huh. There’s a letter for ye. A messenger arrived just now.”
Una frowned. “Where from?”
Kai hesitated, just for an instant. “From the convent.”
Una’s blood ran cold. “That can’t be good.”
“I’m sure it’s good news,” Kai managed, but there was something insincere in his voice.
He had other letters in his hand, which he tucked behind his back as if she might demand to see them, too.
“No news is good news,” Una muttered, but her brother was already walking away.
Her heart thudded when she picked up the letter. Sure enough, her name was scrawled hastily on the front. She recognized the handwriting, too.
Senga, Una thought, swallowing back cold fear. Shoving her bowl of porridge aside, she dove on the letter, tearing it open. Hardly daring to breathe, she began to read.
My Dear Una,
I hope you are well. I’m writing this in a hurry, so please forgive the bad handwriting. The plain fact is that we’re in an uproar here at the convent. They’re calling it an evacuation, but I can’t help but think that it’s something worse.
We’re running away.
Dickson troops are here. They began with frequent, bloody raids on the outskirts of town, and the last band roamed right into the center of town.
The townsfolk are terrified. Many of Thomas’ troops have moved on to join either the Kenneth or Grahame armies in preparation for some battle or other, but those that remain have come back to the convent to protect us.
It’s a great sacrifice on their part, but it’s too little, too late.
The Abbess has learned that a whole Dickson army is hiding in the Mont Valley, only a few miles to the east. It’s clear that they’ve come for us.
The priory can survive a siege, or so the Abbess thinks, but the majority of us are being sent away.
I begged to stay, but the Abbess would not hear of it.
All of us are going. I am writing this in my room at the moment, having packed up everything I can carry.
There’s been a great flurry about the books.
If they’re left, they’ll be burned for sure if the Dickson troops take over the convent.
However, how can we transport all of those books?
I’ve let the others worry about that. At least Kyla is spared that worry.
We are bringing food to ease the burden on Keep Grahame, which is where we’re going. Freya will shelter us, I know that. Still, I can’t help but worry. Are we to be paupers, homeless and penniless, shunted around, unwanted? If things get difficult, the Keep might not be able to feed us.
The Abbess isn’t coming with us. She insisted upon staying, and a few sisters have stayed with her.
Sister Rosemary was one. Most of them are made to leave, though.
The sick and wounded in the infirmaries are being sent home, without exception.
I think Sister Abigail was upset to leave all her patients behind, but for once, the Abbess overruled her.
She’s coming with us to Keep Grahame, and I daresay we’ll soon have use for a talented healer like her.
By the time you get this letter, I imagine we’ll have reached Keep Grahame already, or so I hope. The Abbess has written letters to all the clan leaders and one to Astrid and Kyla. I only had time to write one, and I thought I would write to you, Una.
Things are bad, lass. I’m trying to stay positive—we all are—but it’s hard to see the bright side in a dark, dark situation. And I do mean that literally, as we’re leaving in the dead of night. The Abbess does not want our enemy to know that we have escaped.
I have to stop writing. The messenger is leaving with the letters now, and we leave within the hour. Wish me luck.
Your Friend,
Senga
Una rose shakily to her feet, not quite aware of what she was doing. She gradually realized that there was chaos going on around her. Astrid, Kai, and others were huddled over a handful of letters themselves, reading in a panic. Kyla was sitting down, staring into space. She looked gray.
Una hurried over, waving her letter in the air.
“I take it that ye have all had similar messages?” she asked grimly.
Kai nodded, tight-lipped. “It’s no surprise that Laird Dickson has come for the convent, but I thought we had more time.
It’s good that the Abbess has chosen to evacuate, but it’s bad news that she’s staying behind.
Laird Dickson wants her. He wants to make an example of her, to send a message to her allies. ”
Una shivered, not wanting to think of what such a “message” could be.
“Let’s discuss this more privately,” Astrid spoke up, her voice clipped. “Come, there’s a hallway behind this room.”
She led the way out of the cavernous feasting room. Frankly, Una felt less comfortable in the narrow hallway than she had in the main room, but she didn’t complain. They had bigger things to worry about.
They gathered in a tight circle; Una, Kai, Astrid, Kyla, Thomas, and a few other important Kenneth men. Every face was grim and set.
“There is good news,” Thomas spoke up. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet over the past few days, and Una put it down to worry over Kyla’s sudden turn of bad health. “We know where the Dickson army is—this Mont Valley. Is it a good place for an ambush?”
“Nay,” Astrid spoke up. She, of course, had lived her whole life in the convent and knew the area like the back of her hand. “It’s a valley, sure, but ye must either scour rocky mountains to get over the ridges or go in through a narrow entranceway. It would be a bloodbath.”
Kai scowled. “We’ll have to wait for them to come out, then. Do they know of the evacuation?”
“In her letter, Senga said that they traveled at night,” Una spoke up. “She said that they wanted their escape to be kept a secret.”
Astrid nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “This is good. If the Dicksons don’t know their quarry is gone, they’ll bring out their whole force to attack an empty convent.”
“Not empty,” Kyla spoke up. Her voice was wobbly. “The Abbess is still there. I don’t…” She paled further and stopped dead, clapping her hand over her mouth.
“Kyla, love?” Thomas spoke up, an edge of worry in his voice. “Are ye ill?”
She shook her head, then nodded.
“Excuse me,” Kyla choked out and went scurrying off back into the feasting room.
Una heard her retching distantly. Thomas went to go after her, but Astrid laid a hand on his arm.
“See to her later,” she said shortly. “This is important.”
Thomas flushed angrily at that but stayed where he was.
“We’ll post our forces around the convent,” Kai murmured thoughtfully. “Most of us can stay inside to hide our true numbers. We can ambush the Dickson army when they come to attack. Thomas, what do ye think?”
Thomas was not paying attention, shifting from foot to foot. His mind was clearly on Kyla.
Una bit back a sigh. Thomas was their tactician, and it was important he weigh in on this plan. He wouldn’t do that while worrying about his wife.
“I’ll go and see to her,” Una suggested. “Ye stay here and talk, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded, faintly relieved. Una turned and hurried through the doorway that led back into the feasting hall and nearly ran smack-bang into a figure.
Not just any figure.
Struan.
He turned on his heel, walking briskly away down the length of the room.
“Struan!” she called, but he didn’t appear to hear her.
She saw his guards waiting at the bottom of the room, none of them appearing to pay much attention to him.
She stood there, frowning, and watched the four of them hurry away.
Why was he standing so close to the door?
Did he hear what we said?
It didn’t matter. It was too late for that. Putting Struan’s odd behavior out of her mind, Una concentrated on finding her friend.
Kyla was not in the feasting room. In the end, Una tracked her down in the hallways outside. She was curled up on a low, wide stone windowsill, her flushed forehead resting on the cool glass of the windowpane.
“Feeling better?” Una asked, approaching gingerly.
Kyla glanced up at her and offered a faint smile. “Aye, I feel better. I didn’t want to vomit where all the food was, ye see.”
“Very kind of ye.” Una settled herself gingerly on the edge of the windowsill. “Ye have been off lately. Ill, I’d say. Why not visit a healer?”
Kyla sniffed. “I have.”
“And?”
“Well, I can already tell ye what makes me so nauseous. It’s the smell of roasting meat.”
Una flinched, frowning. “Roasting meat?”
“Aye. The stuff every Keep is packed full of. The main ingredient in just about every meal. I hate the smell, and even imagining the taste makes me want to vomit. I eat vegetables and fruit now. And porridge.”
Una was conscious of a pang of worry. Leaning forward, she took Kyla’s hand.
“That… That sounds serious. What did the healer say?”
Kyla glanced at her, and for an instant, there was surprise in her eyes.
“Ye really cannot guess?”
Una frowned. “Should I guess?”
The other woman chuckled, shaking her head. “Una, I’m going to have a baby.”