The Salbine Sisters
Sarah Ettritch
PUBLISHED BY: Norn Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-9813320-4-8
Editing by: Marg Gilks
Cover design: Boulevard Photografica/Patty G. Henderson
The Salbine Sisters
Copyright © 2010 Sarah Ettritch
All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, except for brief quotations in articles or reviews, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
*****
For Kath and Jim
*****
My thanks to Jennifer Brinkman for always believing in me, which makes all the difference. Thanks also to Marg Gilks, a true Mistress of Editing. Finally, to Patty Henderson: you worked on the cover during a difficult time in your life, yet you were attentive and went the extra mile to please. For that, you have my gratitude and respect.
M
addy ran her hand up Lillian’s arm, her fingertips skimming along the pale, damp skin. “I can’t wait for our next lesson.” She gently pressed her lips against Lillian’s shoulder and then her ear.
Lillian rolled onto her back and threw her arm over her head, her chest still heaving. “I’m supposed to be teaching you how to draw and control fire,” she said breathlessly.
Maddy laughed. “If the point was to generate heat, I’d say you succeeded.” She quickly smoothed her expression when Lillian glared at her.
“Your examination is next month and you can barely light a bloody candle!”
“I guess extra lessons are in order.” Somehow she managed to say that with a straight face. All her lessons except the first had followed a similar route: first the training room, then Maddy’s chambers.
A gust of wind blew one of the shutters against the wall with a
thwack
that drowned out Lillian’s words, but her bulging eyes and pinched mouth clearly conveyed her response. Maddy could understand why one stern look from Lillian always sent the other initiates into a bobbing fit. She might have become immune to Lillian’s powers of intimidation, but she didn’t want to disappoint her. “I’ll try harder,” she murmured as she leaned over and traced one of the lines near the corner of Lillian’s eye. “I know I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can.” Lillian’s face softened. “But you have to focus. We both have to focus.”
Suddenly feeling like the inexperienced initiate she was, Maddy snuggled into Lillian and buried her face in the other woman’s shoulder. Not for the first time, she wondered what they were doing and where it would lead. An initiate and a mistress? And not just any mistress—Mistress Lillian.
The wind carried a chill and the fire had long-since died. Shivering, Maddy reached for the blanket heaped at their feet and pulled it to their shoulders. They lay quietly for a while, the only sounds their quiet breathing and the echoing footsteps of the defenders patrolling the courtyard below.
Maddy almost asked if Lillian would care to take tea together one day. But Lillian had never approached her outside of their scheduled lessons, had never asked her to go for a walk or to share a meal. Maybe Lillian’s interest didn’t extend beyond Maddy’s bedchamber. Maddy would only ruin it if she asked for more, and she must remember her place. Even so, curiosity pushed her to pry. “What do you usually do after early morning prayers?”
“Nothing important,” Lillian said.
“Oh.” She searched for something else to say, then jumped when Lillian threw the blanket aside, doused the kerosene lamp sitting on the table near the bed, and stood. “Where are you going?” Maddy asked, hoping her curiosity hadn’t driven Lillian to return to her own chambers.
“Nowhere.” The moonlight silhouetted her as she pulled the window shut. When she closed the shutters she disappeared in enveloping darkness. The bed creaked. Maddy pressed her body against Lillian’s, to warm her.
“What—what will you be doing tomorrow?” Lillian asked.
“I have a history lesson, and my embroidery time,” Maddy said, thrilled by Lillian’s interest. “Oh, and my lute lesson.” Though she planned to give that up; her ears agreed too often with Sister Edith’s pained expression.
“It’s been a long time since I sat through a lesson. Can’t say I miss them.” Lillian rolled away. “Anyway, I have to be up for early morning prayers.”
Disappointed, Maddy closed her eyes when Lillian’s lips brushed her cheek, then smiled when Lillian’s hand bumped into hers. “Good night,” Lillian murmured, holding Maddy’s hand.
“Good night, Lillian.”
It didn’t take her long to drift off.
*****
Her eyes flew open; she shot upright, ears attuned to the foreign voice. A man, in the Initiates Tower! She blinked and wondered why the shutters were open, then saw Lillian, already in her shift, stepping into her rough leather shoes. The muffled male voice came again, followed by a shriek. Maddy swung her legs off the bed, adrenaline coursing through her.
Lillian pulled on her robe and quickly buttoned it. “Stay here.”
Maddy nodded. Lillian unbolted the door and grasped its iron ring to pull it open. The moment she stepped over the threshold, Maddy slipped into her shift, wrapped herself in the blanket, and padded after her.
Now that the door was open, she could make out the man’s words: “Come on, darlin’. Give us a kiss.”
Maddy stayed in the shadows just inside her chambers. In the early morning light, she recognized Conrad, the Duke of Merrin, pawing at Gwendolyn.
“Get off her!” Abigail shouted, pulling on his elbow.
“Let her go!” Lillian snapped. When Merrin turned toward Lillian, Gwendolyn seized the opportunity to duck away from him. “Go back to your chambers,” Lillian said, her eyes still on Merrin.
Gwendolyn darted into an open door across the hall and quickly swung it shut. Abigail scampered away. A moment later, Maddy heard the thud of another door closing. Where was Nora? Her chambers were also across from Maddy’s. Surely she wouldn’t be sleeping through this racket. Maddy was tempted to step across to check Nora’s door, but she didn’t want Lillian to see her.
Merrin squinted bleary eyes at Lillian. “Now, who have we here?” He staggered toward her. Maddy’s nose wrinkled—the man reeked of ale. “I prefer lamb, love, but I suppose a bit of mutton wouldn’t hurt.” He leered at Lillian.
The hairs on the back of Maddy’s neck warned her. She stepped back.
“Come to me, darlin’,” Merrin slurred, reaching for Lillian.
Lillian thrust out her right hand. Merrin flew back and slammed against the wall, narrowly missing Gwendolyn’s door. He slid to the floor, his mouth hanging open. Then he clamped it shut and his eyes cleared. “You bitch!” he spat, leaping to his feet. “You f—” His eyes bulged. He sank to his knees.
“I don’t like it when people are rude,” Lillian murmured, her taut hands and the veins prominent near her temples the only visible signs that she was drawing an element.
Merrin’s mouth moved, but only a squeak came out. He clawed at his throat, tears streaming down his red face.
Maddy was more interested in how Lillian was preventing air from reaching Merrin’s lungs than in his discomfort. Forgetting herself, she moved into the hall, closer to Lillian. The duke wasn’t turning blue—Lillian wasn’t completely starving him of air.
A voice cracked out: “Lillian!” Abbess Sophia and her consort, Mistress Elizabeth, emerged from the stairwell with Barnabus and Nora on their heels. “Enough!”
Annoyance flashed across Lillian’s face, but she relaxed and turned away from the duke. Still on his knees, Merrin supported himself with one hand while his other clutched his throat. He gulped in air as if he were hyperventilating.
Mistress Elizabeth raised the lamp that had illuminated the stairwell, casting more light on the situation. Barnabus stepped to Lillian’s side, the glowing lamplight flickering along his polished gold breastplate. The clink of armour announced the imminent arrival of more defenders. The two newcomers stopped next to the abbess and her consort.
“I told you,” Nora said to the abbess.
“Yes, thank you, Sister.” Abbess Sophia adjusted the position of her spectacles and peered at Merrin.
“Apparently he’s mistaken us for tavern whores,” Lillian said as Merrin struggled to his feet and stood swaying. He managed to keep his balance—barely.
The abbess looked to the heavens and shook her head. “You’re not supposed to be here, Your Grace. The defenders will escort you out.”
He pointed at Lillian. “I want her punished,” he said hoarsely.
Lillian’s eyes widened. “Me, punished? You’re the one trespassing. You’re the one who tried to force yourself on sisters when the whores didn’t want you.”
Merrin lunged at Lillian, then raised his hands and backed away, three swords at his throat.
“Get him out of here,” the abbess murmured.
The three defenders slid their swords back into their scabbards. Two of them grasped Merrin by the arms and half led, half supported him into the stairwell. Barnabus dropped to one knee in front of the abbess and bowed his head. “Forgive me.”
“You’ll have my forgiveness when you find out how he got through the gates,” the abbess said. “And how did he make it up the hill in his state? Where are his men?”
“I’ll find the answers you seek, Abbess.”
“And have Stephen tell him to stick to the whores next time,” Mistress Elizabeth added. “All that ale must be addling his brain.”
“Yes, do,” the abbess agreed, nodding. “The fool!”
“As you wish, Abbess.” Barnabus rose and nodded, then marched away.
“Sister Nora, Sister Maddy, return to your chambers,” the abbess said.
Maddy bobbed a curtsey along with Nora, then winced when Lillian turned to her in surprise. She should have ducked back inside before Lillian noticed her.
“Lillian, my study, half an hour,” the abbess barked as Maddy pushed her door shut. Did the abbess want to discuss Lillian’s handling of Merrin, or her presence in the Initiates Tower at this hour? Maddy leaned against the door in dismay. If the abbess ended her lessons with Lillian, what followed them would likely end too, dashing Maddy’s hope for more.
*****
“Merrin is a vacuous, useless, self-absorbed, lazy pig!” Lillian spat. “Did you expect me to just stand there and watch him paw at the initiates?”
Sophia lifted the teapot from the silver tray and raised her eyebrows at Lillian, who shook her head. “No, I didn’t expect you to just stand there,” she said, holding the teapot’s lid in place with one hand as she poured tea into a flowered teacup. “But he is the duke.”
“Everyone knows Stephen runs the county.”
“Well, we all wish Stephen had been born two minutes earlier.” Sophia set the teapot on the tray. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip, then blew on its contents and returned it to its saucer. “But he wasn’t. And as much as I loathe Merrin, we have to be careful not to antagonize him. He comes up with enough reasons to resent us on his own. Did you have to suffocate him?”