Ned—who could not lie to save his life—threw a pleading look at Brendan.
Sighing, Brendan drained his tankard and turned to face the men.
“Give him a break, lads,” he said bluntly. “How could he know what goes on in there?”
The first man sneered. “Why would he not?”
Brendan held out his arms. “It’s a nunnery.”
The men eyed him blankly. Brendan sighed.
“Men aren’t allowedin.”
They blinked at that, looking rather foolish. There were some mutters, and the youngest man threw an apologetic look at Ned.
Ned bobbed up and down, a rictus grin on his face. As soon as he could, he hurried back behind the counter.
“Best get going, lad,” he whispered. “They’ll get drunk and nasty in a minute, and ye just humiliated them. They’ll remember that.”
Brendan nodded. “No need to tell me twice. Take care of yourself, Ned.”
“I’ll try, lad, I’ll try.”
The Priory was not asdramatic inside as Freya had expected. The walls were mostly plain stone, plastered and whitewashed in places. The floors were smooth stone flags, worn down by centuries of feet and countless scrubs. She had expected ornate tapestries, furnishings, gold and gilt and silver. Instead, the rooms were just… ordinary. Not deliberately uncomfortable, and everything was clean and tidy, but there was nothing ostentatious. Nothing to imply that the nuns in here lived a better or more privileged life than the ordinary folks outside.
Senga and Kyla took her on a tour, pointing out the prayer rooms, the chapel of course, and a place called the Great Hall which seemed to have been turned into a sort of makeshift infirmary.
“Just wait until ye see the library,” Kyla said dreamily. “They say it could be the biggest library in Scotland. And people come from all over to study, especially healers.”
On cue, a woman walked past, back straight, a pile of books tucked under one arm. She had unusually dark skin for a Scot, and her hair was done in thick braids that reached to the small of her back. Freya noticed that her fingers were stained green, from fingertip to the first or second knuckle, the sure sign of a healer who handled plants regularly for medicines.
“Is that why ye came?” Freya asked. “To learn healing?”
“Me? Nay, I just want to learn,” Kyla’s eyes turned misty. “Nowhere else in this country could I study the way I do here.”
“And yer Abbess allows it?” Freya ventured.
Senga glanced at her and smiled. “Abbess Tenet encourages it. She says that only education can banish ignorance.”
Well. Shedidsound like an interesting woman.
I could tell her,Freya thought, heart thumping.I could tell her what I’m running from. Perhaps she would protect me. Perhaps she would understand.
And what if she doesn’t?
No, no, it was a foolish idea. Freya cleared her throat, putting the thoughts aside.
“Do you think Abbess Tenet is likely to let me stay?”
Senga and Kyla exchanged glances.
“I’m sure she will,” Kyla said, smiling encouragingly.
Senga sighed. “Don’t give her false hope, it isn’t fair. Look, Freya, the Abbess is just, but she’s a very stern woman. Our resources are stretched, and we’re limited as to how much charity we can offer. If ye stayed, ye would have to work—which I’m sure ye wouldn’t mind—but even so, she rarely allows women to stay for longer than a day or two. Except in special circumstances, of course.”
“Ye won’t be turned out,” Kyla added hastily. “We’ll get ye back on yer feet before ye leave, don’t worry.”
“I’ve been here for a long time,” Senga said abruptly, not looking at either of them. “In my time, hundreds of women have come here looking for shelter. Maybe even more. I lost track of how many. Much as we wanted to feed and house them all, we simply couldn’t. So, no, Freya, I don’t think she would let ye stay permanently. I’m sorry.”
