“Yes,” Maddy said from behind her. Sensing that Lillian didn’t want to speak to her directly, she remained where she was.
“When you told me you’re going to Heath, I felt as if I was being abandoned again. I wanted to protect myself. But I’ve since realized that you leaving has nothing to do with me.”
Actually, it partly did, but not in the way Lillian feared.
“I’ll miss you very much.”
“I’ll miss you, too, more than I can express,” Maddy said, but didn’t go to her. “What was her name?” she asked, hoping Lillian would remain open to the subject.
Lillian’s shoulders hunched. “Caroline.”
“And she left the monastery because of you?”
“No.”
Maddy tipped her head, confused.
“I thought she had, but later I realized that she hadn’t considered me at all in her decision to leave. Our relationship meant a lot more to me than it did to her. I’m not sure she even saw it as a relationship. But I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought I was special to her.” Lillian’s head bowed. “But I was just a plaything.”
Maddy reached for her, but the instant she touched Lillian’s back, Lillian moved to sit on the bed. “Have you finished packing your chest?”
The sudden change in topic disappointed Maddy, but she wouldn’t push Lillian to reveal more about Caroline when she obviously wasn’t ready to talk about her. “I haven’t started. I was just thinking about what I’ll take.” An idea formed. “Would you wear a red robe?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’d stick out like a bloody peacock!”
Smiling, Maddy sat at Lillian’s feet and gazed up at her. “All right. Would you wear one made with a finer wool, perhaps broadcloth?” she asked, fingering Lillian’s rough robe. “I thought I might make you one while I’m away.”
Lillian arched a brow. “If you make me a robe, I suppose you’ll have to come back, to give it to me.”
“I suppose I will. And I’ll expect you to wear it.” She took Lillian’s hand, squeezed her fingers. “And I’ll write to you as much as I can. Every time we reach a town, the first thing I’ll do is find a messenger.”
“Who’s going with you?” Lillian asked, her face clouding.
“Jonathan. He was going with Sister Clara. Now he’s going with me.”
Lillian scowled. “If he doesn’t bring you back in one piece, he’ll have me to deal with.”
Maddy rested her head in Lillian’s lap and closed her eyes when Lillian gently touched her hair. “We’ll be fine, so don’t worry.” Though she had to admit, Lillian’s concern for her welfare pleased her.
Given her inner turmoil, Maddy couldn’t make any promises, but she didn’t want to leave without telling Lillian how much she cared about her. “My decision to go to Heath . . . I’d be happier about it, if not for you. Not your reaction to it,” she quickly added when Lillian drew breath, “but because it means leaving you. I wish I didn’t have to, but I’ll never be happy here unless I find my purpose again.”
“And if Heath doesn’t offer an answer?” Lillian asked softly.
“Then I’ll keep searching,” Maddy said, despite suspecting she’d be crushed, disheartened, and fighting the temptation to leave the Order. Until proven otherwise, she’d prefer to believe that her journey to Heath wouldn’t be a waste of time, that she’d return to the monastery intending to live out her days as a sister, or at least prepared to step onto the path toward that destination. “When I’m away, you’ll always be in my thoughts. And when I return, I hope to see even more of you than I do now.” She lifted her head and met Lillian’s eyes. “You grow more precious to me with each passing day.”
Lillian swallowed. “Just before you came to the laboratory, I was thinking of inviting you to my chambers for cider.” She caressed Maddy’s cheek with trembling fingers.
Maddy smiled inside. “Let’s save that for when I get back. It’ll give me another reason to work hard and not tarry at Heath. I’ll return all the sooner.”
“Even if you were to return the day after you left, it wouldn’t be soon enough,” Lillian murmured. She leaned forward and gently kissed Maddy’s lips.
Warmth mingled with worry. The material at Heath had better hold the answer, or a signpost, because Lillian would always be behind monastery walls. Maddy desperately needed a reason to remain behind those walls, with the woman she loved.
*****
Maddy hunched her shoulders against the nip in the morning air and pulled the collar of her travelling cloak up around her ears as she left the chapel. She’d feel the chill more as she rode, but vanity prevented her from pulling the cloak’s hood over her head. She wanted Lillian to see more than her eyes and red, cold nose when she bid her good-bye, especially since the service to send her and Jonathan on their way had already left her eyes red-rimmed. For the first time in ages, a service had touched Maddy, though not for the usual reason. Her bond with her fellow sisters was still there, albeit a bit strained. Her bond with Salbine . . .
Thomas stood near the gates with three magnificent Salbine horses. Maddy had stupidly asked him why they’d need trained Salbine horses, since she was malflowed. “Those at Heath aren’t, Sister,” he’d replied. “And we’ll have to train a horse for you, one you’ll call your own. You’ll be riding with mages, more often than not.” But not today. Jonathan was already at the gates, his breath forming misty clouds in the air as he checked that the weight of their baggage was evenly distributed across the packhorse’s back. His breastplate lacked a crest, and Maddy’s cloak was plain. When travelling, sisters and defenders didn’t avoid drawing attention, but they didn’t seek it, either.
Maddy drew a deep breath. Now the part that had kept her awake last night. She turned around to face those who had followed her in silence from the chapel to the gates. Most sisters had wished her well in the chapel’s vestibule. Those before her were her friends. She forced a smile that probably looked sickly.
Rose stepped forward and hugged her. “Hurry back, all right?” she said, her voice quavering. Next it was Nora’s turn, then Grace came forward, then Abigail. The faces became a blur. Even Gwendolyn appeared sorry to see her go.
“Safe journey, Maddy,” Mistress Elizabeth said. “And a safe return.” She grasped Maddy’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.
The abbess swam into view. “Remember, you don’t have to study the material while you’re there,” she said. “Put the scribes to work as soon as you find something that might be interesting and then move on to the next item.” She took both of Maddy’s hands and squeezed them. “Come back to us.”
“I will,” she whispered, then sank to one knee and felt the abbess’s hand on her head.
“May Salbine guide you. May Salbine provide for you. May Salbine keep you.” Usually the blessing ended there, but the abbess’s hand didn’t move. “May Salbine enlighten you. May Salbine return you to us.” She lifted her hand.
“Salbine’s will be done,” Maddy said, rising in time to see those gathered raising their heads.
The abbess nodded. “We’ll leave you now. Next time we see you, I hope you have the answers you seek.” She turned to the others. “Let’s return to our duties, sisters.”
Maddy acknowledged shouts of “Safe Journey!” and “Salbine preserve you!” with a wave as she watched the sisters trail away. All except one. She swallowed; she was already shaking. A sombre Lillian stood before her. Maddy reached for her, held her tight, rubbed her chin on Lillian’s rough robe. “I’ll send letters as often as I can.”
“I won’t be able to reply until you’re at Heath,” Lillian said against Maddy’s ear. “Then you’ll likely get a barrage of letters from me.”
Maddy smiled through her tears. “I hope so.” She drew back, took Lillian’s face in her hands. “The first thing I’ll do when I come back is find you.”
“I’ll have my work in the laboratory to keep me busy while you’re gone,” Lillian said briskly.
“You’d better churn out those tinctures and salves and whatever else you concoct down there, because when I come back, I fully intend to monopolize your time for a bit.”
“Not everything will keep for long,” Lillian said, her chin trembling. “But I’ll do what I can. And I might start training a horse for you. Thomas said you’ve shown interest in the dappled mare.”
“Oh, she’s a cracker, that one,” Maddy said. “I’d love to claim her as mine.”
“Then I’d best get started, so she’s on her way when you get back,” Lillian said hoarsely. “I don’t normally train them from start to finish, but I will for yours.”
Ignoring the wetness on her own face, Maddy used her thumbs to wipe away Lillian’s tears. “Thank you.” They stared at each other. It was time to go. Maddy embraced Lillian again, wanting to hold her once more. She dreaded letting her go. But she had to, for both of them. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, then pulled back and kissed her. But the gesture felt empty, and her lips, dead. Passion would have to wait for a better time; it would have its day when she fell into Lillian’s arms upon her return, hopefully rejuvenated and looking forward to living out the rest of her life as a sister.
She pulled her riding gloves from her cloak pocket and allowed Jonathan to boost her onto her horse.
“I’ll feed the squirrels,” Lillian said.
Maddy managed to smile at her. “You can try.” She drew a shuddering breath and gazed at Lillian one last time. “Salbine keep you, Lillian. Salbine keep you.” After nodding to Jonathan, she nudged the horse forward. They passed through the monastery’s gates. Maddy didn’t look back.
*****
A bead of sweat formed on Lillian’s temple as she worked the pestle against the dried sage in the mortar. The hours used to pass quickly when she worked, but now they dragged. Maddy always hovered in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t even be halfway to Heath yet, and would likely spend several months reviewing material and waiting for scribes to complete their work. It would be months before she returned. If she returned.
Lillian had hoped the ache would subside with time, but it still gnawed at her. She gained pleasure from her work, but the feeling that something—or rather, someone—was missing prevented her spirit from soaring.
“This is the first dry day we’ve had all week, but of course, you’re down here,” Sophia said from the doorway.
“Where did you expect me to be?” Lillian asked without looking up. “Running through the fields, singing?”
Sophia chuckled. “No, that would mean Salbine had blessed us with a miracle. But you might consider a walk later, get some sun.”
Lillian grunted.
“Several letters were delivered earlier today,” Sophia said, moving closer. “One’s for you.”
“For me?” She wiped her hands on a cloth before accepting a folded paper from Sophia. The seal was intact; Sophia hadn’t peeked. Lillian wasn’t familiar with Maddy’s script, but it had to be from her. “She actually wrote, then? She meant it when she said she would?”
“Yes,” Sophia said, smiling broadly.
“Then maybe she meant it when she said she’d come back.”
“I think she just might have. Are you going to read it?”
“No, no, not until I’ve finished preparing this tincture,” Lillian said, setting the message on the table, out of harm’s way.
“I’ll let you get back to work, then. And do go for a walk. Put some colour in your cheeks!”
“Out!” Lillian bellowed, shooing Sophia away. She picked up the pestle and resumed grinding. As soon as Sophia’s footsteps faded, Lillian rushed to the door and listened. When she was certain that Sophia wouldn’t return, she pushed the door shut and returned to the table. She wanted to grab the message and rip it open, but forced herself to carefully break the seal and unfold the paper.
My dearest Lillian
, the letter began.
Oh. Dearest. Well, that was a good start, wasn’t it?
I hope this letter finds you well. We’ll arrive at the town of Leaton tomorrow, and I hope to find a messenger there. Fingers crossed. We’ve passed through several lovely and friendly villages, but not a single messenger to be found, and none due for days.
She’d obviously found one, if not in Leaton, then soon afterward.
Our journey so far has been a pleasant one, with only one wet afternoon. Everyone along the way has greeted us warmly, and though we vigorously protest, we often leave a village with our poor packhorse carrying a heavier load. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed in Leaton. Jonathan will try to find us a quiet and clean inn, and if it’s not too much trouble, I might soak in a tub, try to get all the dust out of my hair.
I think about you all the time, always wonder what you’d think of a village and its people. Yesterday we passed a travelling merchant selling herbs, and I thought of you in your laboratory, hunched over your table. I say good night to you every night. I know it’s silly, but I do.
Lillian smiled. It might be silly, but it warmed her more than any fire ever had.
I pray with Jonathan every morning and evening. The ritual comforts me, but not the prayer itself. But I don’t feel I’m an intruder when I pray under the sun and stars, as I did in the chapel.
Then perhaps she’d been right, and had a better chance of coming to terms with her condition away from the monastery.
I’m running out of room. Lillian, I miss you more than I can express. I can’t wait to see you again, and I promise that I’ll send another letter as soon as I can.
Yours with the deepest affection,
Maddy
Lillian read the letter once more, then refolded it and turned it over in her hands. She’d always treasure it, knew she’d reread it umpteen times over the coming months. And whenever she needed a boost, it would be there to remind her that someone had cared, had sent a message to “dearest Lillian” and ended it “with the deepest affection.” Perhaps others received letters like this all the time, but this was her first.
As soon as Maddy reached Heath, Lillian would send her a reply. In the meantime, she’d look forward to more letters! Maddy had promised to send another, and Lillian couldn’t wait for it to arrive.