“Stop lassie!” called one of the monks. “You’re meant to walk around—”
“Shh.” Other monks rebuked him for shouting.
She bumped into Brother Gillespie when he emerged from the library, making him drop his scrolls which rolled around them.
“Heavens, child, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“I need to see Nannie.”
He blinked a few times, then nodded and led her through the maze of buildings to the guestrooms. He stopped by the heavy oak door. “I must leave you here. Hers is the ground floor chamber on the left, right at the end.”
“Thank you.” She followed the dark corridor to Nannie’s chamber, her footsteps echoing against the cold stone. She knocked on the door. “Nannie?”
“Come in.”
Nannie was sat by the window in the small room, spinning yarn as deftly as someone who could see what they were doing. She gripped the spindle to still it. “Something’s wrong. What is it, lass?”
“I don’t know. I need you to see Pa for me. I just have a feeling . . . I need to know where he is.”
“I will try.” Nannie set down her spindle and distaff with its cloud of red-dyed wool and walked with the help of her stick to a stand in the corner of the room on which was set a ewer of water and a bowl. Kaetha poured water and waited, gripping the ewer tightly, watching the flickering movements of Nannie’s dark eyes.
“Aedan Baird,” Nannie said, facing the water which trembled with light from the window. The same light glinted in Nannie’s eyes. “He comes here. To the monastery.”
“Thank Heaven,” said Kaetha. “He’s alright.”
Nannie shook her head. “He’s running, glancing over his shoulder. He’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble? Where is he exactly?”
“He’s gone into the kirk.”
Kaetha sighed. Even if he was in danger, he’d be safe there. The kirk, where people prayed and worshipped before the altar, was a sacred space. No one could be harmed there.
“There are a few monks,” continued Nannie. “He’s talking with Gippie. He’s—” Nannie paused and Kaetha felt dread creep over her. The old woman’s stick clattered to the floor. “Men are coming in. Armed men.”
“I must go to him,” said Kaetha. She had no weapon and scanned the room but all she could see was Nannie’s small bone-handled knife. It would have to do. “I’m taking your knife.”
“Lass, don’t go. Listen to me,” said Nannie.
“I have to. There’s no time.” Kaetha fled out of the building, Nannie’s calls following after her. She darted across a yard and through an archway to the front of the kirk. A young monk scurried out and ran off in the direction of the bishop’s palace. Kaetha peered through the doorway. Red-cloaked men stood in a row behind Murdo Macomrag. Brother Gillespie stood before the altar, his hands raised. She couldn’t see her father anywhere.
“This is a sacred place,” said the monk. “If you draw a blade here, you will be damned.”
“No, brother,” said Murdo. “Hand over Baird or you will be.”
“Neither innocent nor sinner may be apprehended on monastery land. Your father would never have stormed into a kirk like this.” Brother Gillespie took a tentative step towards Murdo. “You’re outnumbered here,” he said, but Kaetha noticed that the other monks around the room were all unarmed and were shrinking back away from the chancel, “and if you attempt to take anyone prisoner, your own freedom will be forfeit. We’ll be forced to incarcerate you. You cannot defy the ancient right of sanctuary.”
“As you give me no choice, brother,” he said, drawing his dagger, “I think you’ll find that I can.”
Kaetha stifled a gasp. The monk’s face registered shock and he collapsed to the floor. As other monks rushed to their fallen brother, a tiny movement caught her eye. A small hidden door in a semi-walled side chapel opened and her father left the kirk. Before the door was pulled to, she caught a glimpse of Nannie’s face.
“Search the place, men!” commanded Murdo. Kaetha backed away from the doorway as someone stomped closer towards her. She dashed around the corner, running until she reached Nannie.
“Where is he?” she asked. “Where’s Pa?”
Nannie hesitated. “I heard him run in the direction of the common.”
“He’ll be heading to the woods. Nannie,” she knew she had to tell her, “Murdo stabbed Brother Gillespie. I’m so sorry. The monks are with him now.”
“Dead?” Nannie clutched at Kaetha’s cloak.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice trembling.
“Gippie,” Nannie breathed, feeling her way along the wall.
Kaetha looked in the direction her father must have gone and then back at Nannie. “It’s too dangerous for you to go in. What if Murdo—?”
“If it’s death that awaits me in there, my dear, I will be ready to face it. But if there’s a chance that I can reach my friend before death does, I’ll take it.”
Kaetha took Nannie’s arm and led her to the entrance.
“Leave me now, lass. Make sure you’re not seen.”
She watched as Nannie walked down the nave, monks leading her to where Brother Gillespie lay before the altar and she lowered herself onto the floor beside him. Kaetha thought that he was dead until she saw his hand twitch. Nannie was talking to him, holding his hand, stroking his face. She was relieved to see that Murdo’s men were leaving them alone now. However, there were fewer of them in the kirk than there had been and she couldn’t see Murdo. Had some gone after her father? Brother Gillespie looked into Nannie’s face. His
