[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Or at least they should know where she is."
"I've b-been th-thinking about th-that," Kestrel replied, around a mouthful of pie. "I have a p-p-plan. If
y-you l-like it t-too, that is."
She grinned; they must have been thinking identical thoughts. "Just so it's better than one ofmy plans!"
she teased. "Going in there in disguise as a Brother, for instance, is probably not a good idea. The last
thing I need to do is have to rescue you from an Abbot who thinks you're one of his novices or have
him discover that I'mnot a boy!"
"I'd th-thought of th-that," he admitted. "It w-would s-serve you r-right, after all, t-to b-be on the other
s-side of th-the w-w-worry!"
She slapped his knee with the ends of her reins by way of an answer. "So what's the real plan?" she
asked.
He finished the last of his pie, and licked his fingers. "Th-thereis a d-disguise, b-but n-not a d-dangerous
one "
It seemed to take forever to reach their destination, though perhaps that was anxiety and not reality.
Finally the road dove down into the valley that contained Carthell Abbey; it was just before sunset, and
the sky above the western hills glowed flame-streaked and glorious. Too bad the valley did not match the
view bare trees on either side of the road stretchedriblike limbs toward them; a clammy, spectral mist
rose from stagnant pools of water as they passed through the Beguilers' swamp. It was very cold and
damp here, and the deep shadows of the surrounding hills made it colder still. But at least by now the
treekies and the Beguilers would have gone into hibernation for the winter.
Now just so that there aren't any gellens or varks in this valley as well, Robin thought. Kestrel must
have felt the same way, urging the horses to a faster pace.Be just our luck that there are nocturnal
winter monsters here as well as the ones that hibernate .
Kestrel had taken over the reins shortly after he awoke; he stopped the horses well out of sight of the
Abbey, and Robin climbed down off of the passengers seat. She was dressed in her warmest and
drabbest, and she only hoped that Brother Pierce, the surly Gatekeeper, hadn't gotten a good look at her
the last time they were here. Right now, she looked like a very respectable young woman straight out of
Gradford, and that was what she wanted him to think she was.
A very respectable, very wealthy, and very assertive young woman. The kind Brother Pierce wouldhave
to answer, whether he liked it or not.
They unhitched one of the horses, and threw a blanket over it, hoping that in the semidarkness, it would
look like a saddle. She trotted up the road to the Abbey afoot, leading the horse, for she did not know if
it had ever been broken to ride, and now was not the time to find out! The brisk pace warmed her
thoroughly, her breath puffing out in front of her in clouds of white. There was going to be a hard frost
here tonight, and perhaps a light sprinkling of freezing rain . . . not ideal weather for camping. There
wouldn't be a choice, however; not tonight. Far safer to camp than trust to the safety of anyshelter
offered by the Church. Assuming theywould offer it.
Not bloody likely.
The Abbey loomed up around a bend in the road, lanterns beckoning with a promise of warmth that she
already knew would not be kept. She hurried her pace a little; the horse tugged on the rein in her hand,
and whickered. Poor thing; it thought she was taking it to a stable. If therewere varks out here, she
wanted to get back to the wagon as fast as she could!
She stopped, a few paces away from the door, to compose herself. The horse pawed the ground with
impatience. When she had caught her breath, she rang the bell with an imperious hand, hoping to sound
like the sort of person who was not used to being kept waiting.
When Brother Pierce did make his appearance, he gave no sign of recognizing her as anything other than
a female, and thus, a major intrusion into his life. He frowned at her, his face taking on all the look of
someone who had bitten into an unripe plum.
"What doyou want?" he asked, rudely. "Be off! We don't house vagabonds "
"I'm no vagabond, you insolent knave!" Robin said, with shrill indignation. "If this were Gradford, I'd
have my servants horsewhip you to teach you manners!" She had heard enough of the wealthy women of
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
