'Tis just she is so
uncomely tall, and not very comfortable with it, and having grown up in the company of her
father and brother she is unsure in a female environment.”
“I swear by my faith in the holy God, Blanche, you would have a kind word and a pint of
sympathy for a viper,” she muttered, then glared at the woman. “You have my instructions,
Sister. When the Englishman is seen to be approaching, you will send the workers from the
gardens. Once everyone is indoors, you are to unbar the gate.”
“But”
“Do not 'but' me, Blanche! I have given you your orders and you shall carry them out, else
I will send you back to England in disgrace.”
Blanche went still. She too was an Englishwoman, though she had joined the order on a
calling, not simply to escape an unpleasant marriage. As the daughter of a lesser baron,
she had not been given a choice of where to serve her Lord. She had been sent to Scotland
because it was where she had been needed. Blanche had served her Lord and the people here
as well as she was able. Unlike the abbess, she found the Scots colorful and brave and had
made many friends among the other sisters, most of whom were Scottish. She had no wish to
return to her family in England in disgrace. However, neither did she wish to betray Lady
Seonaid. Despite the woman's rough ways and clumsiness, Blanche found she liked her. In
her opinion, there was a certain feistiness and honor about Seonaid Dunbar she found
admirable. The Scottish maiden also had a rough charm and good sense of humor.
Perhaps there was a way to do as she was ordered without betraying the woman.
“Diya hear that?”
Aeldra paused and cocked her head. “Someone's aweepin'.”
“Hmmm.” Moving forward, Seonaid followed the soft sobs until she reached the chapel door.
She paused briefly, hesitant to intrude, but found she couldn't just ignore the
heartrending sounds. Heaving a sigh, she opened the door.
The chapel was where all the nuns and lay sisters met to recite Matins and Lauds, which
Seonaid had sat through dutifully for two weeks. Five hours a day of prayer in this huge
cave of a room lit only by an array of candles on the altar and along the side walls. The
amount of candles used would have lit up the average chamber to the brightness of
daylight, but only ever seemed to give the chapel a soft glow.
'Twas probably a good thing, Seonaid thought, averting her eyes from the walls as she had
since the first time she had entered and dared to glance at them in the dim light. From
the brief perusal, she knew she would not wish for better lighting to look at the
tapestries. They were all religious in nature, depictions of Christ and several saints.
Unfortunately, they seemed to portray the more gruesome aspects of their lives
or, more to the point, their deaths. There was the crucifixion of Jesus, the beheading of
Saint Barbara, the massacre of Saint Ursula along with 11,000 virgins, and a portrayal of
Saint Catherine being broken on the wheel.
The making of the tapestries was what the sisters occupied themselves with while not
praying. Seonaid knew they were presently working on a piece depicting the stoning of
Saint Stephen. Finished with the most gruesome martyrings of the female saints, it seemed
they were moving on to the men.
Ah, well, 'twas not her concern, she supposed; then her eyes widened in surprise as she
finally spied the woman kneeling before the altar. She had expected it to be one of the
sisters, weeping over a punishment by the abbess, but instead it was the only other woman
presently seeking sanctuary besides Aeldra and herself. Lady Helen. The woman was English
and had arrived just the evening before. Seonaid had heard little about her. No one had
told her why Lady Helen sought sanctuary, but she suspected it was something to do with a
nasty, overbearing husband or some such thing. Had it