They trundled down the forest path in silence. Halfway to the village, Donn asked a question which had obviously been niggling at him. “Why are you bustling us out today?”
Clíodhna had prepared an answer for this, but it flew away from her memory like a startled finch. Instead, she stalled. “I thought you wanted to learn from the monks?”
He shrugged, his eyes on the muddy path. “It seems interesting. But I didn’t think you were so keen on the idea yourself. Now we’re being taken right away. Why the sudden change of heart?”
Clíodhna let out a deep breath. “I need some time to myself. I have some decisions I must make before the summer comes and thinking with the three of you in the house is nigh on impossible. Besides, learning skills will serve you better in life. I just hope they don’t require anything too dear for such lessons.”
Donn brightened up. “I can offer to do some work around their place for payment. Their walkway is muddy. I could find some nice, flat slate and pave it for them.”
“An excellent notion. We’ll offer that, and perhaps it will be enough, at least for a few lessons.”
That seemed to satisfy his curiosity and she breathed more easily.
When they approached the monks’ houses, Clíodhna noticed several of them in the garden. She craned her neck, trying to recognize the kind monk who had spoken to her. What had his name been? Odhrán. At least, his local name. What had his birth name been?
Clíodhna spied his brown curls on the far side of the garden, stretching his back. He noticed her and waved. After a brief discussion with another monk, he came toward them.
“Greetings on this day. Clíodhna, is that right? I don’t believe I caught the names of your children.”
“This is Donn, and Etromma,” she touched each one’s shoulder in turn, “And the babe is Aileran.”
“Well met, all of you. So lovely to see you again so soon! Have you come to take me up on my offer, then? To learn a bit of the skills I can teach?”
“We have. Well, at least they have. I can’t attend today, but I may wish to in the future.” Aileran began fussing and she shifted him to the other shoulder.
“And the babe? We have a young monk who is excellent with the babies and younglings. He’d be delighted to have another charge.”
Clíodhna swallowed back unexpected grateful tears.
He clapped, startling her. “Excellent! Let’s get you settled in one of the rooms. Donn, you look like a sturdy lad. Would you like to learn some carpentry skills? Brother Cronan is building a long table for the guest hall and could do with an assistant.”
Donn glanced at his mother, and she gave him a smile and a shrug.
“And what would you like to learn, lass?”
Etromma just ducked her head, uncharacteristically shy. Perhaps she feared a reaction like yesterday’s fiasco. Clíodhna asked, “Would you have anyone doing any cooking? I’ve taught her much of what I know, but my craft is basic.”
“Brother Éanna is skilled at making bread. Would that suit?”
Etromma smiled.
“Now, if I can take this lad from you, I can put him in Brother Manchan’s care. He tells stories to the young ones, tales of history and legend. Some are too young to understand the words, but his gentle voice puts many of them to sleep. He’s been fed recently, has he?”
“He has. Just before we arrived.”
“That’s grand, then. Now, run off and do what you need to do. Can you return just after midday? We normally run our services then, and the brothers will be done with their work for a time.”
Clíodhna glanced at the sun, judging how long she had. The day remained young, but in this cold season, the light didn’t last long. Still, it should give her enough time for Adhna to prove his worth. “I can do that. But you haven’t told me what you’d like for such lessons.”
He chuckled, a pleasant, round sound. “Let’s get the children off first, eh? Etromma, see that building back there, the one with the huge chimney? That’s the baking hearth. Run in there and tell Brother Éanna I sent you. And Donn, your lessons will be in the yard past that. You can’t miss the pile of wood and planks.”
They both scampered off to their assigned places and Odhrán turned back to Clíodhna. “You owe me nothing at all. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked a few people about you and your family after we spoke yesterday. You see, I heard about your husband’s disappearance. One of our missions is to help and support those in need, and you and your children, begging your pardon, seem in need. The labor of your family as they learn is payment enough for the skills we’ll teach.”
Skeptical, Clíodhna narrowed her eyes. She didn’t trust charity, especially in such genial form. However, his expression seemed clear of guile. She gave a reluctant nod and a relieved smile. “I thank you, Brother Odhrán.”
“I’m not a brother yet, as I’ve not yet taken my vows. You may call me simply Odhrán.”
“Then I thank you, Odhrán.”
Clíodhna grinned much too widely, echoing his own. The skin around his eyes crinkled most becomingly. She must remove herself from this man’s presence before she did something silly. With a backward glance filled with guilt at leaving her children, she left.
Her steps came unusually light and free as she walked away from the village. Ever since she’d married, duty had weighted her life, made heavier with each
