table, the abbess announced the identity of their visitor, and bade the sisters make her welcome. Cait offered them a hurried greeting, then once more turned to the abbess, who said, 'Alethea has been praying for you.'
'Then she is here,' said Cait, hope flickering bright once more. 'Where is she? Can you tell her I am here? She will want to know I have found her at last.'
'Are you hungry?' asked the abbess. 'Would you like something to eat after your long walk?'
'Thank you, no,' said Cait, frustration sharpening her tone. 'Please, I want to see my sister.'
'Come with me.' She took Cait by the elbow and led her through a door at the far end of the refectory. The room they entered was small, containing only a simple straw pallet bed in a raised box, a chair, and a table. In one corner a fire cracked brightly on a tiny stone hearth.
'Your sister is well,' said Abbess Annora, closing the door behind them. 'Moreover, she is happy. But you cannot see her just now.'
'Why?' demanded Cait, feeling the heat of frustration leap up within her. Forcing down her anger, she said, 'Please-you must tell me. I have come a very long way, and -'
'Caitriona,' said the elderly nun, her voice soft and caressing as a mother's. 'Your sister is in preparation for a special ceremony which will take place tonight.'
'A ceremony…' repeated Cait. Would she never see her sister again? 'I do not understand. What kind of ceremony?'
'Alethea has been called to join our order. Tonight she will take the first step towards becoming one of us.'
CHAPTER FORTY
'Alethea -' Cait stared in disbelief at the kindly abbess '- to become a nun.'
'That is her dearest wish.'
The strength seemed to flow from Cait's legs; she sat down on the edge of the box bed. 'But how can that be?'
'Although she has not been with us long, Alethea has changed. The change is profound and it is genuine. She is as astonished by this as anyone.' Annora smiled. 'She has embraced the order with a zeal which gladdens the hearts of all who see her.'
Cait shook her head from side to side, trying to take it in. 'But we've come all this way,' she said, fighting to keep her voice steady against the emotions boiling within her. 'Are you telling me that she will not be coming back with us?'
'Caitriona,' the abbess said gently, 'try to understand. Alethea has heard the call of God, and she has answered. Her place is here.'
'I want to see her,' Cait said bluntly. 'I want to see her now.'
'Rest assured, you will see her-all in good time. Alethea is alone with God and cannot be disturbed.'
'In good time?' Cait snapped, unable to hold back her frustration any longer. 'Is she a prisoner here?' She stood abruptly, fists tight, arms stiff at her sides. 'I have endured hardships beyond sufferance. I have spent day after day after day in the saddle-cold and hungry and often wet, but what of that? Four warriors, a priest and one brave servant have forfeited their lives in pursuit of her freedom-they lie cold in their graves beside the trail and,' her voice faltered,'- and Alethea is not to be disturbed?
Cait stared at the woman in a misery of disbelief as bitter tears came to her eyes. Through every trial she had persevered, hoping against hope that Thea would be found; she had faced death, destruction, and discomfort of every kind only to be told her sister wished to be alone with God. It was beyond her ability to comprehend.
'If you will not help me,' declared Cait, 'I will find her myself!' Turning on her heel, she moved swiftly towards the door.
'Caitriona!' said the abbess sternly. 'Stop!'
To her own amazement she halted, her hand on the latch.
'Think what you are doing,' said Annora. 'If you ever had any feeling for your sister, then I ask you to honour her wishes. She did not enter into this decision lightly, and she will not thank you for interfering now.'
Cait could feel the icy centre of her resolve melting away.
Annora softened. 'Alethea is coming to the end of a period of prayer and fasting in preparation for the ceremony which will take place tonight. Tomorrow, when the ritual is finished, you will be together.'
Unable to make herself reply, Cait merely nodded. The abbess took her hand. 'Come, it is a splendid day. Why not spend it with us? Share our meal, and then I will show you something of our work here, and you will come to know us better.'
Although Cait no longer felt hungry, she allowed herself to be led back into the refectory where she ate a few bites and then gave up as black melancholy overcame her. When the abbess offered to show her the rest of the abbey, she complained of fatigue and asked instead to be shown where she might lie down and rest. The abbess summoned one of the sisters, a woman of similar age and appearance to Cait. 'This is Sister Besa-she will take you to the guest lodge.'
Cait thanked her and followed the sister out across the cobbled yard to one of the cells. 'We have few guests,' the nun told her, 'but we keep a room ready for anyone the Good Lord sends our way. It is this one on the end.' The sister lifted the wooden latch, pushed the door open, and stepped in. 'Oh, it is cold in here, but I will make up the fire and it will soon be warm enough.'
The sister hurried away, leaving Cait to stare at the bleakly simple room: a table large enough to hold a candle, a three-legged stool and neatly stacked logs beside the tiny half-circle hearth, and a straw pallet topped with a rough woollen coverlet. The room's sole adornment was a wooden cross which had obviously been made by one of the nuns; it was fashioned from two bent pine branches, smoothed and bound together with a strap of braided leather, and hung below the tiny round window.
Cait was still standing in the centre of the room when Besa returned with an armful of kindling and some live embers in a small pan. 'I suppose Alethea stayed here,' she said absently.
'Why, yes. For a time.' The sister placed the wood beside the hearth and gently shook the embers from the bowl. 'She has her own cell now.'
Cait waited for her to say more, but the nun proceeded to arrange the wood around the little heap of glowing coals. After a moment, Cait said, 'How long have you been here?'
Besa glanced at her and then quickly away again, as if the question was distracting. 'All my life,' she answered after a moment. 'Or, very nearly.'
'But you are not from Aragon,' Cait suggested.
The sister lowered her face to the heap of kindling and blew on the embers. 'No,' she replied, sitting back on her heels. 'I am not from Aragon. I was born on the other side of the mountains.' She leaned forward and blew on the embers once more. Thin threads of smoke were soon curling up from the hearth as a cluster of yellow flames bloomed among the twigs. 'But this has been my home so long I do not remember any other.'
'You never visit your family?'
'I did once,' replied Sister Besa, rising to her feet. 'But no more.' She smiled wanly, and moved to the door. 'I will leave you in peace now, but if you need anything, my room is next to this one.'
She closed the door quickly behind her and was gone. Cait sat on the stool, watching the flames catch and burn more brightly. When the fire appeared hearty enough, she added several larger chunks of wood from the stack, and then retreated to the bed where she stretched herself out. After gazing petulantly at the age-darkened pine roof beams, she eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.
She dreamed of hoofprints and felt herself once again on horseback, riding through deep-drifted snow. In her dream she seemed to be fleeing someone-although she twisted in the saddle and craned her neck from time to time, she could not see who it might be. Still, she could feel a disturbing presence gaining ground behind her, and the dull malevolence mounted until she grew afraid to look around anymore.
And then, just as she knew she must confront the swiftly approaching evil, there came the slow tolling of a distant bell. Instantly, she felt the unseen wickedness falter in its onrushing flight. She turned in the saddle, lashed her mount, and raced up the steep mountain trail leading to the abbey. Above the wild drumming of her heart she
