it up with. I did not want to stand still and braid. Now that the wine had dispelled my paralysis, all I wanted to do was run. Run away from the ship, from the Crone, run up into the mountains and hide. My hands trembled as I started to braid.
The movement of my fingers through my hair calmed me. I had not braided my own hair since I lived at home, but my hands remembered how to do it. They twisted and lifted and tightened and twisted again. A calmness flowed through my body and I grew still and strong.
The wind coming through the windows began to settle.
Sister Mareane and I helped to bind Jai’s hair. As the plaits formed I could feel her relax, if only a little bit. It was a calm one could not resist.
Jai was the last one to have her hair bound. When we finished the wind died down completely. Everyone stood and looked out of the window and I strained to get a better view.
The sea was still and shining like a mirror. The surface was completely calm, without the slightest ripple. The sun had risen over the horizon but was still behind the mountains. The Abbey buildings cast long, sharp shadows. The ship lay between the Teethand the harbour with slack sails and water no longer frothed around the bow. My heart did a little leap of joy in my chest. All the sisters and novices were holding their breath.
Then there were movements on the ship. I could just about make out fair-haired men in black clothes. The shining weapons disappeared. Long contraptions came sliding out from holes along the sides of the ship.
Oars.
“To the Temple of the Rose,” cried Mother in a piercing voice. “Quick.”
We rushed out of Hearth House without a word. Braids whipped soft cheeks, bare feet drummed on smooth stone. We ran. I held Jai’s hand tightly in mine. Down Dawn Steps, over the central courtyard and up Eve Steps. We could see the ship the whole time. Edging ever closer. It was coming more slowly than before, but it was coming.
The Rose threw open the Temple doors and we hurried in. The coloured glass did not let much of the sparse morning light into the Temple and it was almost completely dark inside. I saw two figures dressed in white move swiftly up the stairs to the platform and disappear behind the double rosewood doors. Ennike and the Rose.
We stood in the colonnade and waited.
We could not see the sea from there. We did not know where the ship had got to. Jai was still holding tightly onto my hand. I was terrified. I thought about what the men would do to Jai—to all of us. I thought about the outer wall and whether it was high enough. How long could it keep the men out? My mouth could still taste the bitterness of the leaf, the sweetness of the rose petal, the earthiness of the almond.
The Rose and Ennike appeared up on the platform. It was strange to see them without their hair flowing over their shoulders. They held out two long silver candlesticks and lit two fat blood-red candles. The flames did little to illuminate the Temple, but they made shadows dance in the pale dawn light. The Rose and Ennike disappeared through the doors and came out again bearing something shiny in their hands.
“Let down your hair!” screamed the Rose in a new voice, a voice which cut through the silence like a knife. Ennike echoed. “Let down your hair!” Ennike’s voice was not her own either and it pierced me like a sword.
Now I could see what they were holding. It was the copper combs we had seen the day before.
We started to undo all the braids: fair and dark, red and silver.
A gust of wind swept in through the open doors.
Up on the platform the Rose and her novice loosened their hair with quick, expert movements. Then they picked up their combs and stuck them deep into their flowing hair.
A strong wind lashed at the Temple and made the rose windows rattle. The Rose let out a triumphant howl and pulled the comb through her hair with a long stroke.
“Awake, wind!” she called. “Come, storm!”
She flung her comb
The movement of my fingers through my hair calmed me. I had not braided my own hair since I lived at home, but my hands remembered how to do it. They twisted and lifted and tightened and twisted again. A calmness flowed through my body and I grew still and strong.
The wind coming through the windows began to settle.
Sister Mareane and I helped to bind Jai’s hair. As the plaits formed I could feel her relax, if only a little bit. It was a calm one could not resist.
Jai was the last one to have her hair bound. When we finished the wind died down completely. Everyone stood and looked out of the window and I strained to get a better view.
The sea was still and shining like a mirror. The surface was completely calm, without the slightest ripple. The sun had risen over the horizon but was still behind the mountains. The Abbey buildings cast long, sharp shadows. The ship lay between the Teethand the harbour with slack sails and water no longer frothed around the bow. My heart did a little leap of joy in my chest. All the sisters and novices were holding their breath.
Then there were movements on the ship. I could just about make out fair-haired men in black clothes. The shining weapons disappeared. Long contraptions came sliding out from holes along the sides of the ship.
Oars.
“To the Temple of the Rose,” cried Mother in a piercing voice. “Quick.”
We rushed out of Hearth House without a word. Braids whipped soft cheeks, bare feet drummed on smooth stone. We ran. I held Jai’s hand tightly in mine. Down Dawn Steps, over the central courtyard and up Eve Steps. We could see the ship the whole time. Edging ever closer. It was coming more slowly than before, but it was coming.
The Rose threw open the Temple doors and we hurried in. The coloured glass did not let much of the sparse morning light into the Temple and it was almost completely dark inside. I saw two figures dressed in white move swiftly up the stairs to the platform and disappear behind the double rosewood doors. Ennike and the Rose.
We stood in the colonnade and waited.
We could not see the sea from there. We did not know where the ship had got to. Jai was still holding tightly onto my hand. I was terrified. I thought about what the men would do to Jai—to all of us. I thought about the outer wall and whether it was high enough. How long could it keep the men out? My mouth could still taste the bitterness of the leaf, the sweetness of the rose petal, the earthiness of the almond.
The Rose and Ennike appeared up on the platform. It was strange to see them without their hair flowing over their shoulders. They held out two long silver candlesticks and lit two fat blood-red candles. The flames did little to illuminate the Temple, but they made shadows dance in the pale dawn light. The Rose and Ennike disappeared through the doors and came out again bearing something shiny in their hands.
“Let down your hair!” screamed the Rose in a new voice, a voice which cut through the silence like a knife. Ennike echoed. “Let down your hair!” Ennike’s voice was not her own either and it pierced me like a sword.
Now I could see what they were holding. It was the copper combs we had seen the day before.
We started to undo all the braids: fair and dark, red and silver.
A gust of wind swept in through the open doors.
Up on the platform the Rose and her novice loosened their hair with quick, expert movements. Then they picked up their combs and stuck them deep into their flowing hair.
A strong wind lashed at the Temple and made the rose windows rattle. The Rose let out a triumphant howl and pulled the comb through her hair with a long stroke.
“Awake, wind!” she called. “Come, storm!”
She flung her comb
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