behind. Besides, perhaps whatever it holds is important enough that I can use it as some form of leverage.
Chapter Twelve
I AM NOT ABLE TO leave right away. There are preparations to make in order to ensure the nuns do not come after me, at least not until I have gotten well away from the coast and the main roads.
For a moment, a brief moment, I feel a pinch of uncertainty. Who will See for the convent when Vereda dies if not me? Would that not leave them as vulnerable and as blind as the seeress?
No. They can simply pick another virgin. Or better yet, one of the women past childbearing age. I have had well over a dozen lessons now and have not discerned so much as an approaching storm or what the cook will prepare for supper, let alone Mortain’s will.
I do not lull myself into believing this will be easy. I have only rarely been outside the convent walls, and have never been allowed to roam free on the open roads or wander through towns and cities unsupervised. My only experiences were the few trips Sister Thomine took us older girls on, precisely so we would have such experiences.
However, in the weeks following my discovery of the journal, I manage to put aside a small supply of provisions—an empty water skin, some hard cheeses and purloined loaves of bread, as well as a heavy gown that does not mark me as a handmaiden of Mortain. Obtaining a supply of weapons is harder, for Sister Arnette is always in her armory and most of the weapons are larger than the cheeses, and they clatter far more loudly than the gown. Poisons, too, present a challenge, for I must slip into Sister Serafina’s workshop in the dead of night and pray that there is nothing noxious brewing that could cause me harm.
Unable to decide if I am arming myself for defense or as the assassin I have trained to be, in the end, I prepare for both.
My last step is writing the letter I will pretend has come from the abbess to request my presence at her side in Guérande. Without such a message, a search party would likely be sent out as soon as my absence was discovered.
It has taken me a while to come up with a justification for the abbess’s request, as it is a complete turnabout of her plans for me.
It has also required that I become even more skilled at forging her hand. I lean back and admire the carefully scripted note.
Dear Eonette,
Now that I have seen firsthand the threats that our duchess faces, I have decided to have Annith join me at court. I believe that all of Mortain’s resources need to be brought to bear on the challenges that face our duchess if we are to have any hope of prevailing. It makes no sense to leave one of our most skilled novitiates withering behind our walls when the duchess so clearly has need of her.
I know that we must still address the issue of seeress soon, but with Vereda having made such an unexpected recovery, I cannot help but feel that Mortain Himself has bought us some time.
I fold the parchment and seal it. As the wax hardens, I pull my saddlebag from its hiding place under Sybella’s old bed. There is no one I must say goodbye to, for while I will miss the younger girls, it is not worth the risk of alerting them to my actions. I will better serve them by confronting the abbess and ensuring none of them is ever sent out before they are fully trained. If it is some misguided fondness for me that is at the heart of the abbess’s unwillingness to send me out, it is wrong and must stop. It is too gross a betrayal of the others and I will not have it on my conscience.
I take the message, crack open the wax seal, then crumple the note, as if it has been read in great haste, before tossing it on my bed. When they come looking for me in the morning, they will see the abbess’s request and assume that I was the first to read it and set out immediately. While some of the nuns might wonder why it came to me directly, others will know of my talent for ferreting out information and should not question such
Chapter Twelve
I AM NOT ABLE TO leave right away. There are preparations to make in order to ensure the nuns do not come after me, at least not until I have gotten well away from the coast and the main roads.
For a moment, a brief moment, I feel a pinch of uncertainty. Who will See for the convent when Vereda dies if not me? Would that not leave them as vulnerable and as blind as the seeress?
No. They can simply pick another virgin. Or better yet, one of the women past childbearing age. I have had well over a dozen lessons now and have not discerned so much as an approaching storm or what the cook will prepare for supper, let alone Mortain’s will.
I do not lull myself into believing this will be easy. I have only rarely been outside the convent walls, and have never been allowed to roam free on the open roads or wander through towns and cities unsupervised. My only experiences were the few trips Sister Thomine took us older girls on, precisely so we would have such experiences.
However, in the weeks following my discovery of the journal, I manage to put aside a small supply of provisions—an empty water skin, some hard cheeses and purloined loaves of bread, as well as a heavy gown that does not mark me as a handmaiden of Mortain. Obtaining a supply of weapons is harder, for Sister Arnette is always in her armory and most of the weapons are larger than the cheeses, and they clatter far more loudly than the gown. Poisons, too, present a challenge, for I must slip into Sister Serafina’s workshop in the dead of night and pray that there is nothing noxious brewing that could cause me harm.
Unable to decide if I am arming myself for defense or as the assassin I have trained to be, in the end, I prepare for both.
My last step is writing the letter I will pretend has come from the abbess to request my presence at her side in Guérande. Without such a message, a search party would likely be sent out as soon as my absence was discovered.
It has taken me a while to come up with a justification for the abbess’s request, as it is a complete turnabout of her plans for me.
It has also required that I become even more skilled at forging her hand. I lean back and admire the carefully scripted note.
Dear Eonette,
Now that I have seen firsthand the threats that our duchess faces, I have decided to have Annith join me at court. I believe that all of Mortain’s resources need to be brought to bear on the challenges that face our duchess if we are to have any hope of prevailing. It makes no sense to leave one of our most skilled novitiates withering behind our walls when the duchess so clearly has need of her.
I know that we must still address the issue of seeress soon, but with Vereda having made such an unexpected recovery, I cannot help but feel that Mortain Himself has bought us some time.
I fold the parchment and seal it. As the wax hardens, I pull my saddlebag from its hiding place under Sybella’s old bed. There is no one I must say goodbye to, for while I will miss the younger girls, it is not worth the risk of alerting them to my actions. I will better serve them by confronting the abbess and ensuring none of them is ever sent out before they are fully trained. If it is some misguided fondness for me that is at the heart of the abbess’s unwillingness to send me out, it is wrong and must stop. It is too gross a betrayal of the others and I will not have it on my conscience.
I take the message, crack open the wax seal, then crumple the note, as if it has been read in great haste, before tossing it on my bed. When they come looking for me in the morning, they will see the abbess’s request and assume that I was the first to read it and set out immediately. While some of the nuns might wonder why it came to me directly, others will know of my talent for ferreting out information and should not question such
Similar Books
