Goddess of the Sea (26 page)

“I had already decided that if she became my wife she would have to curb her tongue and end her unacceptable behavior.” He made a sarcastic scoffing sound. “Walking alone at night is not the behavior of a good Christian wife!”

“Just remember the Rule of Thumb, my son.” The priest's voice sounded pleased. “You may not strike her with anything thicker than your thumb, no matter how much she vexes you, or how deserving she is of harsher discipline.”

CC's mouth dropped open in shock.

“It would not please me to strike her at all, but I do understand that it is my duty,” Andras said.

“I have no doubt that you would do your duty.”

CC thought the abbot sounded almost giddy at the prospect, but his tone shifted and became more serious as he continued.

“There is one thing that concerns me very much. I am not certain that her walking alone at night is entirely innocent.”

CC tried to still her heart from beating as she strained to catch every word.

“She may have been attempting to contact her people.”

CC blinked in surprise. How was she supposed to have done that?

“How could she, Abbot?” Andras echoed her question.

“For all of her supposed ties to the Holy Mother, I believe that she is heathen, and perhaps even a sorceress.”

She clearly heard the knight's sharp intake of breath.

“She could have been casting a spell in an attempt to contact the Norsemen. Did you not notice how mysteriously the fog suddenly surrounded Caldei? It could have been her conjuration in an attempt to cover her use of the black arts. Since Undine's arrival, Caldei has been filled with a sense of unease.” The abbot paused, and neither man spoke for several breaths.

“I, too, have felt something.” Andras's voice was almost a whisper, but it carried to CC's listening ears like a church bell. “I have not wanted to speak of it, but I have felt discord within these good walls.”

“I cannot help but agree with you, my son. The woman's presence here in some way is causing evil.”

CC thought that the abbot sounded more pleased than upset at the prospect.

“And knowing this, you still think I should consider marriage with her?”

“The Rule of Thumb, my son. Do not forget the Rule of Thumb. And do not underestimate the power of a strong, God-fearing husband. I believe once she is away from the sea, and the possibility of contact with other heathen, she will be able to be controlled. Of course, you may choose not to marry her at all.”

“Then what of Caer Llion?” Andras asked.

“The princess could be ransomed. True, a dowry would probably be more profitable than a single ransom payment, and the Wykings are notoriously difficult traders, but then you would be free of the problems she could create, and you would have at least a portion of the money needed for Caer Llion.”

The priest sounded like he was considering trading an animal or buying a piece of property.

“I shall decide upon my course with the princess soon. It is not honorable to give the impression of courting her, when I am, in truth, only willing to ransom her.”

CC was pleased to hear that the knight did sound sincere in his desire not to mislead her. He wasn't evil; he was just a man of his times.

“Do not fret, my son. There is no need for a hasty decision. If her powers were great enough to truly call forth the heathen, she certainly would not have allowed herself to be lost at all, and it will take some time for your squires to spread the news of her rescue so that it can reach her people. Perhaps their response will illuminate the path you need to take.”

“As always, Father, I look to you for guidance.”

“You were wise as a child, and you have grown into a fine man.” The priest's voice was wistful. “I often wished that you were not your father's firstborn son, so that you could have entered the priesthood. But Caer Llion needs you, and my desire was not to be.”

CC's eyebrows raised. She thought she knew just exactly what Abbot William's true desire was for the knight, even if Andras refused to read between William's very suggestive lines.

“You flatter me, Abbot.”

“And you please me, my son . . .”

CC's mouth twisted in a grimace as she silently retraced her steps. She didn't need to listen to the conversation deteriorate into a “You're so great—No,
you're
so great” contest. And anyway, she'd heard what she needed. They believed that she was a heathen Viking who had magical powers.

Well, she thought, her grimace changing into a grin, one out of three wasn't too bad. She had magic. That she knew for sure. She also knew that she wasn't going to be anyone's chattel, whether that anyone was Andras or Sarpedon.

She walked several yards back down the hall before she turned and began making her way very nosily to the entrance to the dining room. Smiling, she began to loudly hum the USAF theme song, hearing the
“Off we go, into the wild blue yonder . . .”
singing in her head. She pretended not to notice the knight and the abbot until Andras cleared his throat, then she jumped and giggled girlishly.

“Oh, you frightened me! I didn't realize anyone else was in the room. Good morning Andras, Abbot Williams. Isn't dawn a lovely time?”

“Good morning, Undine.” The knight's voice sounded strained and unnatural.

“I am surprised by your attire, Princess Undine.” The priest fluttered his fingers at the monastic robe she was wearing. “I would have thought our simple robes much too plain for your august tastes.”

CC sighed and painted her face with a long-suffering expression. “So many people believe that princesses have to be constantly swathed in jewels and silk. It's simply not true. How would we get any work done?”

The priest raised a single, haughty eyebrow at her. “And what work could there be here for you to do, Princess?”

“I pledged that I would restore the statue of the Holy Mother,” she admonished him. “It surprises me that you have forgotten such an important task.”

For once the priest didn't have a glib comment waiting. CC realized that he really had forgotten and pressed her advantage, heading quickly for the servant's exit.

“I'll just go to the kitchen and have the servants lend me some cleaning supplies.”

Andras finally found his tongue. Speaking quickly he said, “Undine, I can help you with collecting and carrying your supplies.”

“No, Andras, this is something I need to do alone. I feel a special connection with the Virgin Mother, and I think it is important to her that she is cared for by another woman, but thank you. You always seem to be looking out for my welfare. I do appreciate your consideration very much.” She smiled warmly at him and was pleased to see the knight shift guiltily in his seat.

“Princess Undine, will we be seeing you at evening mass today?” the abbot asked.

“Yes, Abbot William, I am pleased to say that you will be seeing a lot of me in the chapel. The statue of the Blessed Mother is in a sad state of disrepair, and it will take much work to be restored,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the servants' hall.

Ugh, what an awful man!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE hall did open into the kitchen area, which was a huge room, immaculately clean and lively. Hanging from the low-beamed ceiling were dozens of different types of herbs, many of which CC was pleased that she recognized. The walls of the kitchen were lined with hearths, both big and small. Isabel and three women whom CC had not seen before were busy preparing what would probably be the midmorning meal. None of them noticed CC in the shadowed doorway, and she took the opportunity to study them. It was easy to see a trend in the women chosen to be servants at the monastery. Each of them was old and in some way disfigured. The right side of the face of the woman kneading an impressive mound of bread dough was drooped and slack, giving her a partially melted appearance. The woman who was chopping potatoes and onions did so with one hand, holding her uselessly curled left hand tightly against her body. The third woman, who was plucking the feathers from a fat hen, did so hunched at an awkward angle caused by a large hump on her back.

CC felt the slow burn of anger in the back of her throat. The abbot might as well have had a huge sign hung around each woman's neck which read: I'M ALLOWED HERE BECAUSE MEN DON'T FIND ME ATTRACTIVE. No wonder Isabel had disliked her on sight.

Over one low-burning fire was suspended a huge blackened kettle in which Isabel, her back to CC, was slowly adding crushed garlic and leaves of basil.

“It smells wonderful,” CC said. Each woman jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice. CC smiled warmly at Isabel. “I didn't know you made the stew. If I had, I would have told you sooner how delicious it is. You're a magnificent cook.”

CC couldn't be sure, but she thought the sudden flush on Isabel's shriveled cheeks might have been from pleasure at the unexpected compliment. She turned and included the other women in her smile.

“Good morning! It's sure nice to see female faces. I've felt kind of outnumbered lately.” She nodded her head back toward the rest of the monastery. When the women didn't speak, but continued to stare, she just widened her smile. “My name is Undine.”

This seemed to thaw them to action, and the three women dropped quick, awkward curtseys and mumbled hellos in her general direction. Isabel limped to her side.

“Princess, are you lost?”

“No, I came looking for the kitchen.”

“I did not think you would awaken this early or I would have been there to help you dress.”

“Oh, that's not why I was looking for the kitchen. I need to get some cleaning supplies to take to the chapel. I thought the kitchen would be a good place to find a bucket and some rags, as well as soap and water. Did I guess right?”

“Yes, Princess, but all you need do is to tell me what you wish cleaned; you need not supervise the details.” The shock of CC's sudden appearance had passed and Isabel's tone had returned to being edged with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“Oh, I don't want you to do the cleaning—I will.” CC was pleased when Isabel's eyes widened in surprise. “All I need is for you to show me where I can get the supplies.” She looked at each woman as she continued speaking. “Did you know that there is a beautiful statue of the Virgin Mother in the chapel?” All of the women remained silent, but CC nodded her head at the group as if they had answered her. “Apparently, no one knew about it. It's such a tragedy. It's obviously been ignored and neglected for years. I found it yesterday during mass and I pledged to the Mother that I would restore it.” She turned her smile back on Isabel, who was staring at her like she had totally lost her mind.

“You will clean it yourself?” Isabel asked, unsure she had heard CC correctly.

“Yes. I'm not afraid to get my hands wet,” CC said, loving her own little private joke. “So, if you'll just point me to a bucket and some soap, I'll get to work.”

Numbly, Isabel pointed to an area next to the humpbacked woman who had been plucking the chicken.

“Thank you!” CC said. Purposefully, she walked across the room and picked up an empty bucket.

“There is water in the barrel and rags and soap there, Princess.” The humpbacked woman pointed to a cupboard near one of the smaller, oven-looking hearths.

CC smiled her thanks and grabbed a bucket. There was a large ladle hanging from the side of the freshwater barrel, and CC quickly filled her bucket, then she picked several clean rags and a crude bar of pungent-smelling soap from the cupboard.

“Which way to the chapel?” she asked Isabel.

“That hallway will take you to the gardens. Can you find your way from there, Princess?”

CC nodded. The bucket was heavy, and she was glad that Undine's body was tall and strong. Before she left the room she turned, speaking to all four women.

“I appreciate your help. And, please, you don't need to call me Princess. My name is Undine—and I'm just another woman in a place filled with men.”

Pleased with her parting comment, her smile didn't waver even as she struggled her way across the perfect gardens, occasionally sloshing water onto her robes and pointedly ignoring the shocked stares from monks already busy with their morning chores.

“They act like they've never seen a woman work before,” she mumbled. Climbing the steps up to the chapel she tried not to look at the horrific renditions of hell carved around the entrance, but her eyes couldn't help lingering on them. For some reason they were even more disturbing the second time she saw them, even though this time she was ready for them. She hesitated, searching the stone for some glimpse of hope or salvation, but every scene mirrored only desperation and despair—eternal damnation and pain.

“It's like an awful car wreck I can't look away from,” she whispered. Shaking herself, she forced her eyes away from the macabre artwork and entered the dim, incense-saturated building. Even the soft gray light of dawn was bright compared to the darkness within, and CC stood still for a moment, blinking to accustom herself to the gloom.

The chapel was deserted except for two monks who knelt before the mound of flickering candles that were to the right of the nave. When they glanced back at her, she smiled a greeting to them. They acknowledged her with brief nods before returning to their monotonous chanting.

As if a magnet was drawing her, CC made her way along the rear of the chapel to the deeply shadowed left side. Two brightly burning candles beckoned her back to the forgotten statue. She paused in front of it, taking a moment after setting down the bucket to catch her breath. She hadn't been wrong. The lovely statue had Gaea's unmistakable face.