Chapter 5
While Boyd conferredwith his men in the courtyard, Abbess Bethóc gently touched Bella's arm.
"Come, child.Walk with me a moment."
Bella followed her to a quiet alcove off the main hall.Now that the vows were spoken, the reality of what had just happened was crashing down on her.
Abbess Bethóc was quiet for a moment, studying Bella's face with those wise, knowing eyes."I want to tell ye something I've learned over the years."
Bella nodded, her throat tight.
"The hardest people to love," the abbess said softly, "are often the ones most afraid of being hurt."
"Ye think Boyd is afraid?"Bella's laugh was bitter."He fears nothing."
"Does he not?"The abbess tilted her head."I see a man at war with himself.Whatever happened between ye in the past, it haunts ye both."
Bella whispered."The man I knew before was gentle and kind, he has changed so much.Even the way he speaks is harsh, ye've seen it."
"I want ye to take some wisdom, Bella.A man is not defined by his words but his actions.'Tis not what he says but what he does that ye need to heed."
The abbess took both of Bella's hands in her own weathered ones."Listen well.Ye must be strong, not with the hardness of iron that breaks under too much weight, but with the strength of the willow that bends in the storm and rises again."
"But how do I do that?"
"Ye must learn to choose yer battles wisely, Bella.Save yer fire for the things that matter most.Let him have his bluster and his commands when they cost ye nothing.But when it comes to yer heart, yer dignity, yer very soul, that is when ye plant yer feet and refuse to yield.But I suspect," the abbess added with a knowing look, "the man ye just married is in for a surprise when it comes to ye."
Bella embraced her tightly."Thank ye.For everything.For giving me a home when I had none."
"Ye will always have a home here should ye ever need sanctuary."
***
FINALLY, BELLA CLIMBEDthe narrow stairs to her cell one last time.The small chamber had been her sanctuary for ten years.A simple cot, a wooden chest, a tiny window overlooking the herb garden.She'd cried herself to sleep here countless nights.Learned to find peace here.Grown from a broken lass into a woman who could survive anything.
She ran her fingers along the windowsill where she'd carved a tiny heart years ago, in a moment of weakness.A heart she'd meant to scratch out a hundred times but never had.
Inside her wooden chest, she gathered her few belongings including her mother's ring, carefully wrapped in cloth, a worn hooded cloak and a hand spun woollen shawl her dearest friend Una Murray had gifted her.Una had been the only person from her little village who had visited Bella regularly over the years and filled her in on clan gossip.She had remained a loyal friend when everyone else had abandoned her and Bella treasured their friendship still.She felt a pang of regret that she had not the time to notify Una of her new circumstances, but she would once she was settled.
Finally, Bella reached into a false panel she'd installed in the wooden floor and pulled out two perfectly balanced combat knives.
Bella lifted them carefully, testing their weight in her hands.The blades gleamed in the afternoon light, sharp enough to split a hair.She'd forged them herself in the abbey's hidden smithy, under the watchful eye of Sister Beatrice.
St.Agnes Abbey kept many secrets.The beer brewing and whiskey distillery were well-known locally, providing income for the abbey's charitable works.But the combat training was known to very few.
Not all of the sisters participated, of course.Only those who showed aptitude and interest.But for those who did, the training was rigorous and comprehensive.Self-defense, knife work, even sword and quarter staff training for the truly dedicated.
Bella had discovered her gift early.While she was adequate at reading, decent at herbalism, and competent at manuscript copying, with blades in her hands she was exceptional.Sister Beatrice said she'd never seen anyone take to knife fighting so naturally.
