Sister Ada strolled along the coastline behind Brynja, who paced the shore, hands on her hips, spear not far away. “Are you certain the boat will be here?”
Brynja answered without turning around, focusing on the sea around them. “Of course. He always comes in the morn. Sometimes he comes at night and other days he doesn’t.”
Hildi came running toward them. “Sister Ada, why are you here this morn?”
The nun sighed. “The truth is that I worry about you two.”
Brynja stopped her pacing and turned to face the woman. “There is no need to worry about us. I’ll protect both of us.”
“But I worry for your soul, lass, not that you will be attacked. I know that’s your primary concern, but I trust our Lord to keep us safe, along with the assistance of you and Simone. I think you spend too much time out here, chasing a boat that may come or may not. But what’s inside of you?” She patted her hand to the middle of her chest. “This is what worries me about you.”
Brynja turned away so she could roll her eyes, something her mother hated, but it was a perfect way to express how her insides felt without speaking. “I’m fine, Sister. I missed the fools this morn. I overslept. We’ll come help cut vegetables for the pottage.” It was something they did nearly every day, and she didn’t mind at all. It helped her deal with some of her feelings that she couldn’t put words to.
“I would appreciate that. You neglected your chores yesterday and it’s not the first time this has happened. I don’t want you to be so immersed in revenge that you forget everything else around you, Brynja.” The sister folded her hands in front of her. “God is always watching, lass.”
She knew she’d missed once, but twice? What would happen if they rejected her? Sent her away? The thought was too frightening. “My apologies, Sister. I’ll see that it does not happen again.”
“We will forgive you this time as you’ve had much to deal with.” Sister Ada turned away, her robes billowing in the wind as she headed back to the hallowed grounds. “Follow me then. We can talk inside.”
How she dreaded this. Why did everyone insist on worrying about her? All she had to do was put her spear in the heart of the two men who killed her mother and her aunt, then put her dagger in the other man’s belly. Then he would leave her alone.
She had to do it. Every night of the past four moons, she had nightmares of the men who attacked her mother and aunt, stealing their cottage, and then taking the two lasses to another cottage on Tiree.
It was there they learned why. The bastards were going to sell the two young girls to men across the water. She didn’t understand exactly why, but she heard different words from the fools who guarded their cottage.
Mistress, love slave, plaything.
She hated men, every spitting part of their bodies. They lied and connived and beat people. How many others had they stolen away? How many more would be their victims?
And most of the ruffians smelled horribly. Did they never wash their clothing in the sea?
“Come along,” Sister Ada said.
“I’ll be right there. I’ll put my weapons away, then I’ll be along.” She waved Hildi off with the nun.
Brynja trudged into their hall with the multiple beds, thinking about Sheona and how much she missed her. Iona was now the home where she and Hildi lived, their days filled with praying and working and worrying.
A far cry from the days when she and Hildi would help their mothers with chores, then spend the rest of the time swimming or hiking the isle of Tiree. They loved to watch the birds, climb the hills to overlook the sea, or fish for their dinner.
They laughed and giggled and spent their days doing whatever they wished. Then at night, they’d listen to their mothers tell tales of the Norse and the goddesses. Freya was her favorite, mostly because she was her mother’s favorite.
How she missed her mother, her gentle touches, her soft-spoken ways, her warm hugs.
They never laughed on Iona unless they played with the bairns at the nearby Ionaland.
She tidied up her bed, put her weapons away, and left, strolling across the courtyard to the kitchens of the nunnery. It was beautiful here, the stone arches and walkways something she’d never seen before. The abbey wasn’t far from them, the structure the largest on the isle, but they didn’t go there often.
She opened the door and heard Hildi’s voice immediately. “Over here. Carrots to cut.”
Bryjna joined the two at the workbench, grabbing a knife and chopping with her usual vigor.
“Brynja, perhaps it might be better if you forgot about the boat. It may be simply a fishing vessel,” Sister Ada said. “Have you considered that possibility?”
“Why? I think it’s wise to make sure they aren’t coming to attack us.” She gripped the knife harder and sliced a carrot with a precision others didn’t care about.Chop, chop, chop, chop.
“I’ve known others who carry a hate and a vengeance deep inside them for too long. What I fear is that it could draw your focus too much. I think your time would be better spent praying or meditating.”
Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop.
