She scraped the tablet clean and scrawled into it again.
“What’s wrong?”Timothy asked.“Can’t ye talk?”
She shook her head.
“Why?”He wrinkled his nose in disgust.“Did ye get your tongue cut out?”
Edward gave him a light shove.“Dolt!He’s probably under a vow o’ silence.”Then he glanced at her.“Are ye under a vow o’ silence?”
She nodded.Then she showed him the letters on the tablet.
Edward read it for Timothy.“SAINT…ANDREWS.Ye’re on pilgrimage to Saint Andrews?”
She nodded.
“I’mgoin’ to Saint Andrews,” Timothy boasted.
“Nay, ye’re not,” Edward said.
“One day.”
“Maybe one day.But we’re stuck at the priory until we take our vows.”
“When’s that?”Timothy asked.
He shrugged.“My cousin John was fourteen.”
Timothy’s brows shot up.“Fourteen?That’s…” He screwed up his forehead to think.
“He can’t do sums either,” Edward confided.
“I can do sums,” Timothy protested.He proceeded to count on his fingers, finally giving up.“’Tis a long time, isn’t it?”
“Seven years.”
Timothy sighed.Then he gazed up at her.“How old were ye when ye took your vows?”
She scraped the board and picked up the stylus, considering what age to carve into the wax.
“Look!”Timothy hissed, elbowing his friend and pointing across the cloister.
She followed his gaze.The breath froze in her throat.Her fingers fumbled on the stylus and dropped it.
Two monks, led by Prior Isaac, were hauling Adam across the cloister.
“Gather, brethren!”the prior called.“In the chapter house.”
Other monks began to follow them.
“Us too?”Timothy murmured.
Edward nodded.
Timothy narrowed his gaze.“What are they goin’ to do?”
“That’s the monk who accosted a lady yesterday,” Edward said.
“What’s accosted?”
