There was a moment of silence, and then the banging started again. The Abbess swore that she could hear the old timbers cracking and splintering. Still, they held. But for how long?
She was braced for suffering, but what about the rest? The nuns called hermother. They were her children. They relied on her. This was her problem to solve.
Abruptly, the Abbess turned away from the window and strode through the room. Sister Rosemary scuttled after her, her voice pitching high with worry.
“Mother?Mother! Where are ye going?”
“To address the others,” the Abbess responded shortly. She followed a short set of stairs down into the Great Hall.
Most of the nuns were gathered there. A good many of them had gone to the chapel to pray, but there was still work to be done in the infirmary. Some of the injured locals remained, the sick and the dying, and they huddled in their beds, wide-eyed, wrestling with a new fear. The nuns clustered together, whispering and crying. Some were praying, having sunk downonto empty pallet beds and closed their eyes and lifted their hands.
Kyla sat on one of those beds. She was hunched over, both hands cradling her stomach. She was staring into space, hollow-eyed and grayish. She glanced up as the Abbess approached and swallowed hard.
“What if he sent them for me? For my baby?” she whispered. “My father will want this baby. It’s a threat to him. He will?—”
“Enough,” the Abbess responded crisply. “Laird Dickson will not lay eyes on ye again, lass, if I have anything to say about it.”
Kyla swallowed thickly. “The door will not hold for long.”
“It will hold for long enough.”
Kyla sat up a little straighter, brightening. “Ye have a plan?” she asked hopefully.
The Abbess gave a tight smile. “Aye, I have a plan. Now, I need ye to stay here to keep things running smoothly in the infirmary. Keep the others in good spirits, aye? Tell them a few jokes. Ye are good at jokes.”
Kyla nodded, looking a little brighter now that she had purpose. “Aye. I can do that.”
The Abbess laid a hand on Kyla’s head, smiling fondly.
“Ye are a good lass, Kyla. And ye will make a fine mother.”
She left before Kyla had the chance to reply, striding out into the Front Hall, where the great door stood.
A dozen or so nuns were gathered there. Some were praying, some were whispering, and some simply stood and stared. About half a dozen nuns had arranged themselves before the door, hands pressed on the wood as if they could hold it closed.
“What are ye doing, lasses?” the Abbess called out, making them flinch. “If that battering ram comes through the door, ye will be crushed.”
“Better to die now than later,” one woman called. A hush fell over the room at this. Sister Rosemary glowered at her.
They fell silent, one by one, all looking at the Abbess. They were waiting, she realized, for her to say something. To say anything. She breathed out slowly, folding her hands in front of her waist.
“I’m sure ye all know,” she said carefully, “that I must go out there.”
A clamor broke out, as she’d expected, and she waited patiently for it to die down. The Abbess stretched out her hands, shushing them, and gradually silence fell again.
“I must go out, or else they’ll breach the door,” she repeated patiently. “Look at those cracks. If they get in here, we’ll all be dead. Laird Dickson would not be able to restrain his men’s bloodlust even if he wanted to. I will go out, and I will try to stall for him.”
“He’ll kill ye,” Sister Rosemary remarked flatly. “He’ll slit yer throat the moment he sets eyes on ye.”
The Abbess sniffed. “I think I have a wee bit more time than that. Now, I have made my decision, and I’ll waste no more time. All of ye, take my blessing. I love each of ye, and it has been the great privilege of my life, and the greatest honor I will ever carry, to serve ye all as yer Abbess.”
There was a muffled sob from somewhere in the back of the room. The Abbess didn’t wait to see who it was. If she waited for too long, she would lose her nerve. And shewasnervous. Of course she was.
The echoing booms of the battering ram stopped, and the familiar voice shouted out his refrain once more.
“Give us the Abbess of St. Deborah’s! Give her up, and the rest of ye?—”
“Oh, pipe down!” the Abbess shouted, approaching the wooden door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
