Мерседес Лэки - Passages

Brother Thomas frowned. “I don’t know why we don’t,” he admitted. “The Prior gave me a portion of the altar to use to build the new altar here. Perhaps it needs to be assembled and put into place. I’ll do that this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Brother,” Maja said with feeling.

The altar was in place in the chapel in time for evening prayers, and Maja’s rounds before bed showed nothing out of place. But as the days passed, it was apparent that the Peace of the God was still lacking. The animals were twitchy, and the novices were worse.

“I’m not sure whether I’m being punished for the sin of pride,” Brother Magnus said one night when he, Brother Thomas, and Maja were meeting in her office after the novices were, she hoped and prayed, in bed. She thought Dexter was watching them—and lately she suspected that he was smarter than most of them. “But when I remember how smug I was when my friends from other orders defined novices as ‘creatures who spill lamp oil, break crockery, and giggle,’ I want to cringe.”

“And those were single-gender orders,” Brother Thomas added. “I broke up a shoving match today between Edvin and Hugo over who was going to help Stina in the kennels.”

“I hope you sent both of them to work somewhere else,” Maja said.

“I sent them both to look after the pigs. Stina is perfectly capable of doing her assigned work without their help, and she’s actually fairly good with dogs. Birds, of course, take more skill and a more delicate touch.”

Not that you’re biased, of course . Maja didn’t say that aloud. She didn’t feel safe teasing anyone these days, not even the priests, who were grown men and secure in their vocations. And speaking of vocations—

“I’m concerned about Stina,” she admitted.

“Because she doesn’t have Animal Mindspeech?” Brother Magnus asked.

“No, it’s not that. Mathilda doesn’t have it, and she doesn’t worry me the way Stina does. None of the boys have it, including Sven-August, who has more skill with birds than anyone other than Brother Thomas. And if either of you has the Gift, nobody ever told me.”

Both men shook their heads.

“What bothers me,” Maja continued, “is that she doesn’t seem to want to be here.”

“As opposed to in Haven?” Brother Thomas asked.

“Doesn’t seem to have a vocation?” Brother Magnus said at almost the same time.

“More like acts as if she’s serving a prison sentence.” Maja sighed. “We get people dumped on us by their families—Keven is an example of that—but generally they’ve at least chosen the Temple, if not whether to live in one or not.”

“She actually did choose our order,” Brother Magnus said. “But if you are concerned about her vocation, Sister,” he emphasized the title slightly, “you are the one to speak to her about it. It’s part of your job as Superior—or as Acting Novice Mistress, whichever applies here.”

“Probably both,” Maja agreed. “Thank you. I’ll talk to her.” She stood up. “Time for us to seek our own beds. Is it me, or does morning come earlier every day?”

“It’s you,” Brother Thomas said. “It’s after the Equinox, so morning is actually later each day.”

“Go to bed, Sister,” Brother Magnus said kindly, sketching a blessing over her head. “May Thenoth send you good dreams.”

“Amen to that,” Maja said fervently. “Thank you, Brothers. I appreciate your company and advice.”

What she actually dreamed was that she was in the street in Haven, trying to enter the courtyard of the Temple there, but the stone threshold kept rising up and hitting her knees. She was surprised not to have bruised knees when she woke up.

She was splashing water on her face from the basin in her cell to help her wake up—she didn’t bother with a real wash until after the early morning chores—when the shouting started. She swiped a cloth across her face with one hand while reaching for her robe with the other, and ran for the courtyard as soon as she was decent. She remembered as she ran that the Prior had told her that a Superior should be calm and dignified at all times. I wonder how he manages that—aside from decades of practice.

She arrived to find Karl and Sven-August rolling in the dirt, fists flying. Sven-August was two years younger than Karl and had been raised by his widowed mother, so Maja wasn’t surprised that he was getting the worst of it.

Brothers Thomas and Magnus arrived right behind her, and each of them hauled a boy to his feet. Maja notice that Sven-August still needed to be restrained, despite the blood dripping down one side of his face and what looked like a developing black eye.

“Take it back!” he snarled at Karl.

Karl seemed to be willing to stop the physical fight at least, but he was not in a conciliatory mood. “She doesn’t care about you ,” he sneered. “She just likes boys—or men.”

“Enough!” Maja said firmly. She didn’t need to ask who “she” was. Time to break this up before they make it worse . She looked at Karl and didn’t see any visible injuries, but it was her job to be certain. “Karl, are you injured?”

It didn’t help that Karl looked insulted. “Of course not,” he snapped.

“In that case,” Maja said, “you are now on silent retreat. Meals will be brought to you in your cell, where you will remain until breakfast tomorrow.”

Karl looked outraged. “What about him?” He glared at Sven-August.

“It is my place to deal with him,” Maja reminded him. “It is your place to do as I tell you, and I strongly suggest that you consider the state of your own soul and vocation before worrying about his.

“The rest of you, back to your chores,” she ordered. “Sven-August, come with me.”

She was relieved to see that Brother Magnus had decided to escort Karl to his cell. She headed toward her office with Sven-August limping beside her. As they arrived, Brother Thomas caught up with them. “Sister, before you talk to the lad, perhaps I should patch him up?”

“Thank you, Brother. That would be a kindness.” She let them into her office and waited outside. It didn’t require her three years of experience with Sven-August to know that he would be mortified to have her patch him up; he was a sixteen-year-old boy. The rumble of voices coming dimly through the door gave her hope that Brother Thomas was talking some sense into the boy, or at least calming him down.

She waited until Brother Thomas came out and said, “He’s all yours.” She smiled a thank you, and then straightened her face before entering her office. Sven-August stood before her desk, looking thoroughly miserable. She sat down and gestured him to do likewise.

“All right,” she said quietly and calmly. “What happened?”

“He called Stina a lightskirt!”

“I do hope he’s not stupid enough to actually believe that,” Maja said. “Do you think he really does, or was he just trying to provoke you?”

Forced to stop and think about it, Sven-August winced. “He was provoking me. He said she doesn’t really like me, that I’m just a spoiled little boy.”

“Are you?”

Sven-August looked outraged. “You know I’m not!”

“Well, I certainly didn’t think so,” Maja said. “So we agree that you are not a spoiled brat and Stina is not a lightskirt.”

Sven-August nodded.

“So why do you care what he thinks?”

“He said it in front of Stina,” Sven-August explained. “So I couldn’t just let it pass.”

“I can understand that,” Maja agreed. “She’s next on my list of people to talk to anyway.”

“No!” Sven-August protested. “It not her fault!”