The Waters Rising (26 page)

“There are three ring walls,” the man called over his shoulder. “None of the gates are in a line. Different gates and bridges go through into different parts of the abbey. The outliers told us you were coming, and you’re expected down this way.” They went along the gentle curve for some time, passing various lowered portcullises before another gate presented itself on the left. When entered, it folded them between two walls, as before. This time they turned left for a short distance, then right through a gate leading onto a paved court, only a tiny corner of which was needed for all five wagons.

Xulai opened the carriage door and slid wearily down, followed by Precious Wind and Oldwife. Even after Nettie and the Farrier brothers had rejoined the party, Bear had maintained the fiction that the other three women were not with them. Each night they had slept apart, either in the carriage or in the woods. Each night, some animals had been separately picketed. One night, when Precious Wind had asked Xulai if she wished to tell the animals they were deer, the child had said, “No, why would I want to do that?”

“You did it before.”

“I did? I don’t remember that. Why won’t Bear let us sleep nearby?”

“Don’t ask me to explain it,” Bear had said rather sharply. “Just humor me by pretending not to be with us for a day or two more.” In truth, he found her an uncomfortable presence, easier to manage thinking about at a distance.

Now people bustled around the wagons. From the top of a flight of stairs, the prior, glittering with gold embroideries, came down to introduce himself and welcome them. He took Xulai by the hand, and she had to force herself to leave it in his grasp. It was not rough, it did not hold too tightly, but something about it made her feel revulsion.

His voice was deep, full of charm, his smile almost believable. “We’re glad to welcome you, Daughter. The Duke of Wold and our dear abbot are old friends.”

Xulai had watched him descend. He was of middling height, about the age of her cousin Justinian, though he walked swiftly, surely; his hair was white, but there was a lot of it, as neatly trimmed as the beard that rimmed his narrow face; his eyes were watchful. His robes were actually white but the golden veil attached to his high crowned hat and the gold embroidered stole hanging down the front of his robe made him glitter in the sunlight. Xulai found herself wondering if he went anywhere without them. To the privies, perhaps. If such a man used a privy. “I am very grateful for your welcome, sir.”

“Elder Brother,” he corrected her, with his ever-so-slightly stingy smile, his hands stroking the fall of gold along his robe. “That is what we all are here, brothers and sisters, elder and younger, who make sons and daughters of the youngest ones. Some of us are given to books, some to music, some to the land, some to crafts, and some to arms. The abbot himself is Eldest Brother, of course.”

“Was it your people we saw riding toward the falls?” she asked. “Did my cousin send word of some kind?”

The prior looked up, his eyes focused on something beyond her, brow furrowed, “Well, I . . .”

“If you know, please tell her,” said Precious Wind a bit snappishly. “She’ll worry over it if you don’t.”

Xulai flushed. She hadn’t meant to ask him anything. She wished she hadn’t. “If it is supposed to be a secret . . .”

The prior licked his thin lips, obviously deciding what to say. “By all the spirits and virtues, no, child. I just don’t want to upset anyone needlessly. I believe the duke sent word to the abbot saying he had an . . . an intimation that Woldsgard might be attacked. He asked for reinforcements from us. He said his people have been at peace so long, they have grown fat and lazy and may have forgotten how to fight.”

“Had he any intimation of where this attack might come from?” asked Bear.

The prior licked his lips again. “Perhaps something was said about Kamfels.”

He’s lying,
thought Xulai.

Bear and Precious Wind shared a glance. “Siblings at war?” murmured Precious Wind, too softly to be heard by anyone but Bear. “Is the Duke of Kamfels teasing his sister again?”

“Or perhaps helping her,” whispered Bear. He looked deeply into the prior’s eyes. “Elder Brother, your people would have been there only shortly before a great number of the king’s men. The two troops were separated by only half a day.”

The prior nodded, his mouth twisted, as though he had bitten into something sour. “Well, yes, so we heard. In any case, the troops of Prince Orez were there before either of us. Our men went back to Netherfields, and the king’s troops went on, I believe, to Kamfels. Perhaps Justinian, Duke of Wold, intended a show of force. Though I believe he informed us later that the rumor he had heard might have been false, a feint, perhaps, to keep Wold off balance, or to diminish the strength of his friends by moving men into places they were not needed.”

And that is a lie,
thought Xulai
. The rumor was true, and the invading force came from Ghastain, but . . . what were the men from here supposed to do? Fight them?

“Oh, we do hope the duke did not weaken his friends,” said Precious Wind with sham concern.

“No, no. The abbey has not been weakened and any of our people not needed in Netherfields will soon return.”

Before anyone else could speak, Xulai said in her most childish voice, “Do we have to talk now, Elder Brother? I know you’re very busy and we are very tired.”

The prior nodded, grateful for her interruption. “Of course you’re tired. From the look of all of you, you would probably relish baths and something besides camp food. Our brothers and sisters have everything ready for you and you’ll talk about any of these other matters with the abbot himself tomorrow.”

He beckoned. A pair of white-robed, blue-veiled people came toward them, trailed by a brown-robed brother. “Will you all please stay here with Brother Rahas”—he indicated the brown-robed one—“just long enough to sort out the baggage you need? Then, Brother Pol, when they’re unloaded, if you’ll show the men the way to the stables, help them care for the beasts, and then show them the way to the men’s baths and their rooms? Sister Tomea will take you to your rooms. Xulai, Daughter, we don’t have your permanent quarters ready, but you’ll be comfortable in temporary ones.”

“Elder Brother?” said Xulai in a voice dripping with weariness.

“Yes, Daughter?” he replied, his eyes still focused somewhere else.

“The lady who died at Woldsgard left some of her beautiful court clothes for me to have when I am grown. They’re in a crate in the bottom of the dray. They’re all sealed up so moths can’t get at them, so please, ask your people not to open the crate. Can it be put away somewhere until I’m older?”

The prior leaned forward, reached out with a vague motion, as though to pat her shoulder or head, abruptly withdrew, and called out: “Did you hear that, Brother Rahas? You’ll take care of it? Good.”

The brown-clad brother nodded agreement, then went among the horses, looking them over, while other brown-clad people began unpacking the wagons and stacking the goods as Oldwife directed. When the things they would need immediately were separated from the rest, Sister Tomea led the new arrivals and half a dozen brown-clad porters up the steps onto the terrace, right along it, then left through an arch, down a corridor that became a long cloister with numerous doors on the right, one for each of the arches on the left that opened upon a garden full of fruit trees, roses, and a tall, plashing fountain. At the end of the cloister an iron gate blocked their way. The sister unlocked it, carefully locking it behind them as she remarked, “This is a secured area,” while proceeding toward another gate that stood open. Beyond this was a wide foyer with several heavy doors, one of which opened into a cozy, many-windowed room with padded chairs and an iron stove. In addition to the entry door there were two others, one leading into a small courtyard, one into a hallway separating two bedrooms and a steamy room almost filled by a huge wooden tub.

“How’n all the world do you keep that warm?” asked Oldwife of the sister. “Must take fifty buckets, at least!”

Sister Tomea smiled. “Outside that wall is a pipe that comes from a hot water spring deep under the abbey. It runs in and out constantly, keeping itself warm. When we want to clean the tub, we block the inflow and let it cool before we run the water off into the gardens.”

“You have these all through the abbey?” asked Precious Wind.

Sister Tomea shook her head. “Not all through, no, but enough of them that everyone has access to a tub. Here in the secure guest quarters, there’s one bath for our lady guests and one for the men. The men must share theirs, but since we have no other female guests at present, you ladies will have this one to yourselves until your house is ready.”

“Our house?” asked Xulai.

The sister nodded. “There are a number of houses by the back wall, in the enclosed meadows. Originally they were built by certain families who wanted to live here at the abbey.”

“Or who wanted their elderly men and women to live somewhere else,” said Oldwife, clenching her teeth.

Sister Tomea hid a quick grin. “That’s as may be, ma’am, and I’m not saying it’s always untrue, but as it happens, no one has been housed in any of them for some time. One of them is being newly paneled and cleaned. No doubt the abbot thought it would be more convenient to have all your party together and both a stable for your animals and storage for your property. That way, you’ll have some privacy without brothers or sisters or children from the school walking over you and around you all the time.” She smiled as though delighted by this idea. “And you’ll be a bit farther from the bells. They take some getting used to . . .”

She was interrupted by her subject as a great bell rang high above her, the initial bong succeeded by a multitoned peal. “First supper warning,” said Sister Tomea.

Xulai asked, “What is the building with the towers?”

“It’s where we worship and sing. Actually I should say it’s where we sing in order to worship.”

“This is very nice,” said Xulai. “Please tell the abbot and the prior we are very grateful.”

As Sister Tomea went out into the hallway, closing the door behind her, Precious Wind cried, “Bath first,” stripping off her clothes as though they were a fruit skin, leaving them where they fell, and striding naked toward the tub. Nettie, though still fully dressed, hesitantly went after her.

Oldwife and Xulai returned to the sitting room where the porters had stacked their baggage, including the cat basket, which rocked violently atop a pile, threatening to fall any moment. Xulai let the animals out, and they followed her to the outside door. As soon as it was opened they darted across the small area of stone paving to the garden planted around its edges. Bothercat went on complaining for some time while casting irritated looks at Xulai. “This is all your fault,” he was saying. “I’ve never been so ill treated in my entire life.”

“That was unlike you out there,” Oldwife said, “interrupting the prior.”

“We were all saying too much,” Xulai said. “We don’t know him. We got here and we were tired and we stopped being careful. Besides, he told a lie.”

“What lie?”

“He said my cousin told them it was a rumor, a feint. When did he do that? He was gone before the troops got there. I was watching the prior’s eyes. His eyes are cold, and they flicker when he tells a lie.”

Oldwife stared at her, through her, shaking her head. “Go along to the bath, child. I’ll keep an eye on the cats, and when you younger creatures have finished, I’ll have a wash. I’m not such a one as you Tingawans for the submerging of my whole naked self in company with other naked selves. In fact, I’m surprised at Nettie Lean!”

Woldsgard also had a bathtub, not unlike the ones in the abbey, built by the duke for Princess Xu-i-lok, who had refused to behave as barbarians did by either sponging with a cupful of hot water or staying dirty all winter. Xulai and Precious Wind had used it frequently, and Xulai got herself into the tub almost as quickly as Precious Wind had done. Two smooth wooden benches were fastened to the walls of the tub, one higher than the other, and the two of them sat with water up to their necks while Precious Wind hummed and splashed. Nettie, however, was still undressing, garment by garment, finally lowering herself slowly into the tub and simply sitting there, wide-eyed.

“They do this in Tingawa?” she asked Precious Wind.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “We certainly do. Daily, or more often. Of course, it’s not such labor as it is here. It’s warm there. The water tanks are heated by the sun . . .” She hummed a bit more before climbing out of the tub, applying soft soap to a gourd sponge, and scrubbing herself all over before filling a bucket from the tub and rinsing the soap away. The water ran away into a gutter around the edge of the room and out through the wall.

Precious Wind sighed with pleasure as she climbed back into the tub. “That’s the way we do it in Tingawa, so we don’t ever sit in dirty water. This one is built so well that I wager the Elder Brothers had a Tingawan guest who suggested it and drew the plans.”

Nettie followed her example, then Xulai, who was having a hard time staying awake. Finally, and not without a regretful look at the still steaming water, they wrapped themselves in large towels and returned to find Oldwife unpacking their clothing and distributing it onto shelves or into the carved chests under the windows of each bedroom.