The Red Abbey Chronicles (11 page)

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Authors: Maria Turtschaninoff

BOOK: The Red Abbey Chronicles
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I
WAS WOKEN BY AN INDISTINCT NOISE.
I was sitting with my back against the cool stone wall and Heo weighing on my legs. I could not believe I had actually slept. It felt like a betrayal of everybody else outside. I was sure none of them was sleeping. If they were even still alive.

I carefully leant forward to turn up the oil lamps, and I realized one of them was missing. So was Jai.

I gently lifted Heo off my knee. She woke up anyway and made a sleepy little noise like a kitten.

“What is it, Maresi?”

“Ssh, do not wake the others. I am going to see where Jai has gone.”

“She is probably exploring the caves,” said Heo in a muffled voice. She curled up with her head on Ismi’s feet. “I saw her looking before.”

At first I did not understand what she meant. But
then I noticed that some of the rotten boards in the door at the end of the crypt had been broken off.

I looked around. I could not take the lamp with me because the girls would be scared in the dark. One of the dry, brittle board stumps lay on the ground.

I carefully poured a dash of oil from the lamp onto the board and held it to the flame. It caught fire immediately.

“Heo, I will be back soon,” I said. She mumbled in response. I ducked through the hole Jai had made and into the darkness.

The cave was even narrower here; more like a long passage with an uneven floor which sloped gently upward. I held the board high enough that the flame would not dazzle me, though in reality it was more for a sense of security than to light my way. I ran my free hand along the wall. I could not leave the little ones alone for long. But I could not let Jai surrender herself to her father.

I thought of what Sister O had said about people’s responsibility for their own lives, and the evil things they do to one another. I quickened my pace.

The flame flickered and died. I stopped still. Darkness pressed in on me from all sides. A darkness
as dense as the one I knew was on the other side of the Crone’s door.

Or almost as dense. Far off in the distance there was a faint glow of warm yellow light. I threw down the board and began to run towards the light, feeling my way along the walls of the passage with my hands.

I eventually found Jai standing still and looking up with her lamp raised high. “There, you see,” she said when I reached her, out of breath. She pointed upward. “The night sky. There is a way out.”

“You mustn’t, Jai,” I said when I had caught my breath. “You are one of us now. You do not belong to him any more.”

“That is why I must do it,” she said and turned to me. She was incredibly calm. “Because I am one of you. Because you are as dear to me as Unai.” The lamp lit her face from below and her eyes looked like inky black wells. “You have to help me up.”

“Never.”

We looked at each other. She was not going to give in, I could see that. But without my help she could not reach the hole in the ceiling. I looked up and saw that the sky was pale with the first hour of dawn. Some spidery branches were swaying in the light sea breeze.

“I know where that is,” I said slowly. “It is on the mountainside just above the Temple of the Rose. I found the hole yesterday.”

I had to think of a way to stop Jai surrendering to her father. She had made up her mind and nothing I said could sway her. If I did not help her out here she would go back and leave through the main door.

The Crone was murmuring in the darkness around us. Her words tasted of death. Above my head there was light, sky and fresh sea breeze—a way to escape the Crone’s door.

“I could climb up and see what is happening.” I looked at Jai and hoped she would not protest. “But then you have to stay with the little ones. Keep them safe and calm. They are your sisters now, Jai. I will come back soon and tell you what I saw.”

 

J
AI WAS QUIET FOR A LONG TIME.
T
HE
lamp’s glow distorted her features and I could not read what she was thinking. At last she gave a quick nod, set down the lamp and interlaced her fingers. I put my foot in her hands and, with arms strong from months of hard work around the Abbey, she heaved me up. I grabbed hold of a tree root and found footing in a dent in the craggy rock wall. I climbed up a little way, and clung on tight between darkness and light. I could not find any holds so I had to grope around with my hand until I found something I hoped would take my weight. I lifted myself farther up and got some purchase on the tree root. I was not far from the surface now. I could see the roots and branches which had stopped me from falling the night before. The rocky wall was not entirely vertical and I found holds for my fingers, knees and toes and scrambled
my way up. As I reached the roots I used their hairy tangles to pull myself farther up and out into the dawn. Once I had emerged I turned around to poke my head down the hole.

“I will be back before the sun is a hand’s breadth over the horizon,” I whispered. “Do not do anything foolish in the meantime, Jai.”

She did not answer. I could not see her face down there, only a figure in white next to the faint lamp glow. Then I heard her voice come up out of the hole, deep and husky.

“Be careful, Maresi. My sister.”

 

T
HE FIRST THING
I
NOTICED WAS THE
lack of noise. No doors opening and shutting, no well winch creaking, no happy shouts from playful girls. The Abbey had never been so quiet and still. I could hear anxious bleating from the goat house where the goats were waiting for their morning milking. The sound only intensified the ear-piercing silence.

A silence much like the one that emanated from the Crone’s door.

It was dawn, but the sun had not risen yet and the Abbey still lay in half-light. From my place up on the mountainside I could see the familiar shapes of the Abbey buildings below. Nearest to me was the Temple of the Rose, with its longest side against the steep face of the mountain. I could not see the Temple yard behind it but I could see Knowledge House and Knowledge Garden to its right. The
garden had been desecrated. Plants had been ripped up by the roots or stamped down into the soil. The sea breeze carried the smell of the dying plants: peppery, bitter and sweet.

The central courtyard lay in shadow to my left, and beyond that was the Hearth yard on the slopes up to White Lady. The door to Hearth House was open.

The men were nowhere to be seen. This frightened me even more than when I could actually see them with their shining daggers and tattooed hands.

I crept down the mountain slope. At first there were some bushes and cypress trees to hide behind, but farther down there was only grass and the thick leaves of korr-root. I went as quietly as I could. There is a narrow path between the Temple of the Rose and Knowledge House which does not lead anywhere but comes to an end at the outer wall that runs close behind the houses. The outer wall is not high there—nobody imagined intruders could get over the mountain and attack from the north-east—but it was still too high for me to get over. Dori’s Bird was perched on top of it.

Its blue tail feathers looked black in the pale dawn light. It flitted nervously about and looked down at the Temple yard. I stopped just below it.

“Bird,” I said, and still today I do not know why I did this. “Bird, where is Dori?”

Bird turned around and peered down at me. Its dark eyes were shining.

Then it let out a short squawk and flew down onto my head. Its sharp claws scratched my scalp and tangled my hair. I tried to lift it off but then another pair of claws gripped me by the forearm. My hair had fallen forward, so I could not see what kind of bird it was. As I carefully tried to shake it off, yet another bird landed on my shoulder, then the other shoulder, then on my hands. I was gripped by pair after pair of claws which, though sharp, did not harm me. I lost count of how many birds there were and I stood totally still under the weight of them all until suddenly the weight disappeared. I was flying. In a flash, the birds lifted me and let me down again, then silently flew away. At that point I could not even be sure there ever were any birds. All I knew was that, when Bird jumped down from my head onto my right hand and I brushed the hair out of my face with my left, I found myself on the other side of the outer wall. From there I could follow the path between Knowledge House and the Temple of the Rose into the Temple yard. I saw shadowy movements. Then
I could hear voices—coarse, dark voices which did not belong here.

I hurried up to Knowledge House and pressed myself against its wall. Bird flew away from my hand and I carefully peeked around the corner.

Bird sat on the ledge of one of the rose windows. It tapped on the glass with its long beak and cawed forlornly. A stone came flying from the yard. It missed Bird by a hair’s breadth and smashed a hole through the reddish glass. Male laughter came from the yard. Bird rose in a cloud of caws and ruffled red and blue feathers, but landed again at once, even though it knew it was at risk of being aimed at again.

Dori had to be in the Temple.

The shadows of the men moved to and fro in the yard. When another stone hit a window pane right next to Bird, it gave up and flew onto the roof ridge. I heard laughter and rough voices. One of the men came into my sight and stood with his back to me. I could see his shaved head and tree-trunk thighs. I recognized him by the dagger that glinted on his belt: long and saw-toothed. It was the one who seemed senior to the others in the crew. The one who had stood so close to the Rose. A tattooed hand
clutched a large stone. The hand was missing several fingers. The man looked up to the roof where Bird was perched out of throwing distance.

“We haven’t found her yet, so what makes you think we’re going to?” a voice said, and the man turned to look at the speaker. “Sarjan’s been listening to tall tales. She’s not here. We should sail away. That storm wasn’t natural, whatever Sarjan says.”

The fingerless man shrugged. “So we do what we really came here to do. Then we can sail away and look somewhere else.”

“Sail home you mean,” snorted a third man. “I heard that little sissy Vinjan say there’s masses of silver in that house up there.” He pointed at the Moon yard. “That’s where we can get our payment from.”

“And from in there.” The fingerless man pointed at the Temple of the Rose and the men exploded into laughter.

I had to find a way to see what was happening inside the Temple.

Just behind me was the low wall which guarded Knowledge Garden. It runs at right angles to the outer wall which guards the Abbey. I climbed up and balanced on the low wall, facing the higher one. It
was not difficult to climb onto the outer wall from there. It is wide and easy to walk on. There is nothing to hide behind, but I took the risk and ran along it, past the narrow path where the men could easily see me from the Temple yard, if they happened to look in my direction at that moment. I did not hear anything so assumed they had not seen me. When I reached the back side of the Temple I was at eye level with the high window that is sunk into a deep niche in the wall. I managed to leap over into the niche. The glass is coloured, so there was a chance that I could see in better than they could see me through it.

I cupped my hands around my eyes and peeked in.

When my eyes eventually adjusted to the dark I could see the whole Temple hall. Novices and sisters were cramped between the columns, quiet and still. They were facing the door with their backs to me. I tried to count to check they were all there. I thought about Cissil, Sister Ers and Joem, who were alone up in Hearth House when the men came. It was difficult to see in the scant light and every time I counted I came to a different total. But when a novice moved by one of the columns the red light from the window lit up her copper-coloured hair. It was Cissil. She was alive.

After a little while I could see the men more clearly. Two by the door and three up on the platform, playing dice.

Dice. In the Temple of the Rose.

I knew that the men had defiled the island simply by stepping ashore, but this hit me harder than anything else. Men in the Temple of the Rose. The Goddess had not managed to hold them back.

The Temple doors were heaved open. A man with fair, clipped hair and a well-trimmed beard stormed in. Jai’s father. He was followed by the men I had seen him give orders to, the ones who had called him uncle and father. Everybody had curved silver daggers shining in their belts. Jai’s father’s was clearly the most valuable, with red jewels on the hilt. They marched past the huddle of women and up to the platform.

“Where is she?” hissed Jai’s father. His whisper was more menacing than his shout. “I want to talk to the leader!”

There was a jostle amongst the group of women. Mother made her way forward to the steps. Jai’s father pointed at her.

“One last time. Where is my daughter?”

Mother met his gaze but did not answer. He cursed, came down the steps and smacked Mother
hard in the mouth, flinging her head back. She did not so much as take one step back. The three men who sat playing dice got to their feet immediately, expecting something to happen, but nothing did.

“There, you see?” He turned towards the dice-players. “You are afraid of them but they do not have any magic powers. It was a storm like any other storm the ship has been through, nothing to do with them. They are ordinary weak women just like back home.”

Slowly, as if he were instructing a class of novices, he pulled out his dagger and pressed the point to Mother’s breast. He poked gently, as if testing to see how much force it would take to pierce the old woman’s flesh.

“We have searched through every building several times, Uncle Sarjan,” said his nephew, gesturing outside. He had a thin blond moustache. “She’s not here. She must have left before we came, maybe as soon as the storm calmed down.” He sounded almost pleading.

“Shut your mouth, Vinjan,” Jai’s father hissed. “She is here. I know it. There was someone inside the locked library. I want to know where she went.” He turned around and pointed at his nephew with the tip of his dagger. “It is just as much in your interest
to find her as it is in mine, don’t you see? With this shame to our name no one will ever be willing to give you their daughter to marry. You will not find any work and you will become the laughing stock of every honourable man.”

Vinjan backed down, but I saw a look of despair come over his face.

Sarjan turned back to Mother. “We will not leave your island until we find her. I can wait. But…” He pointed with his dagger to the three dice-players, “I do not think the crew can.”

When Mother still did not say a word he grabbed her by her shoulders. “Blame yourself then. I truly tried to be an honourable man and protect you from these beasts. They are hired help, you understand. Petty criminals, jobless sailors, men on the run from the law. They want reward for their trouble. They are tired of waiting now.”

Sarjan stepped back and nodded to his men. “Go ahead. Do what you like. But wait until we are outside. I do not want to hear.” He signalled to his brother and nephew to follow him down the steps. Vinjan walked very fast with his head hung low.

The door closed behind them, but the men still did not move. They eyed the sisters and novices
suspiciously. They fingered their weapons. They were still afraid. Sailors know that lulls and storms like they experienced at the island do not simply come out of nowhere.

But Cissil was standing there with her shiny copper hair and smooth white skin. One man grabbed hold of his knife with one hand and her arm with the other. She struggled, but nothing else happened. The man smiled broadly.

“Help yourselves!”

The other two came down the steps at once and into the cluster of women, choosing their prey. There was a quarrel at the door about which guard had to stay at his post. They still did not entirely trust that the Abbey’s women would not fight back.

I saw some of them spit on the floor and touch the edges of their blades, as if to protect themselves from evil spells.

Cissil screamed. Somebody rushed forward and grabbed her other arm. It was Joem.

“No!” she cried, and I could hear her voice very clearly. “No, not her!”

I knew that she would reveal where Jai was hiding. I wanted to scream, rush forward and stop her. My heart was beating so fast my head was swimming.
Joem stood in front of Cissil. I could not see Joem’s face, but she stretched out her arms and hid Cissil from view.

“Take me,” said Joem. The man laughed vulgarly.

“You? Instead of the redhead? Don’t be a fool.” He tried to push Joem aside but she did not budge. Instead she kicked him hard in the most vulnerable place for a man. He doubled over in pain, but not for long. The next moment his fist flew through the air and met Joem’s face with a terrible smacking sound. She collapsed by his feet. He grabbed Cissil by the hair with one hand and raised his knife with the other. Around the Temple more exposed daggers gleamed. This was not the resistance the men feared. There were no magic winds or inexplicable storms. This was resistance they understood, even welcomed. They had the scent of blood in their nostrils.

“Wait!” cried a voice. It was soft but still cut through all the noise.

The Rose ran up to the platform. She took off her nightgown and stood there completely naked, bathing in the first blood-red rays of the morning which streamed in through the mosaic windows. Her hair tumbled down her back in shining curls, her breasts were full and her soft skin shimmered. She was so
beautiful that nobody in the Temple could take their eyes off her. I saw what the men could not see: she was no longer servant to the Rose. She was the Goddess herself, the one who knows all the secrets of women’s bodies, and all who saw her were under the enchantment of her radiant beauty.

“I am the priestess of this Temple. Servant to the Maiden. Do you even know what that means?” She opened her arms and her smile was so beautifully compelling and powerful it hurt my eyes. “You will not have to fight with me, I will not resist. No risk of scratch marks. No tears or struggle. And I know what I am doing. I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.” The Rose’s voice was no longer her own, it was deep and resonant and I recognized something of the Crone’s tones. The Maiden and the Crone; the beginning and the end. She pointed at the man who was still holding Cissil in a strong grip. “You are first. Follow me.”

There was no chance that he would not obey. When she turned around and went through the rosewood door, the man followed her buttocks with his eyes. He let go of Cissil and bounded towards her.

“Borte, guard the door. I don’t want to be disturbed.” His voice sounded drunk on the beauty of
the Goddess. “You’ll get your turn next. Be patient. Someone has to keep an eye on the rabble here. They’re not to be trusted.”

“She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” muttered Borte and crossed his arms. “Make sure you don’t ruin her for the rest of us.”

The door closed behind him.

Noises came from the altar room. Noises I did not want to hear.

Mother raised her arms. “The song of the Rose! Sing!”

She began to sing. All of the other women and girls joined in, singing in praise of the Maiden and the Rose and her wisdom and beauty, and though the men tried to stop them, they had no power against the women’s song.

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