“Very well, Captain. Just a few more hours,” the prioress relented. For Silene’s sake.
Silene knew it was for her sake when she smiled, and the prioress smiled with her.
“You and your men,” Mother said, turning back to him, her smile turning to distaste and distrust. “You and your men will stay in the northern quarter of the house. You will all eat in the great hall before the sisters have their supper. You will retreat until they are finished eating. You will leave after that.”
One of his men muttered something about her list of orders.
The captain tilted his head an inch and glanced around him at his four men, who shifted uncomfortably in their spots.
The captain was still insulted by the prioress’ words and her behavior, but he agreed to stay.
He said he was weary but the way he stared at her when she smiled at the prioress almost had Silene convinced that he was staying because he understood that she didn’t want to leave her home yet.
The men were shown to the north quarter by two lay women. Silene attended prayer but she was distracted often with thoughts of Captain Galeren. She had never seen a man like him before. She’d only seen a few, of course. Messengers, guardsmen, priests. His fine frame had bewitched her. She said penance until it was time to eat.
She’d finally had some hours of peace until she saw him again.
The sisters were waiting for their time to eat. She heard some disturbing whispers traveling throughout the wide corridor. The whispers were about the prioress serving the men yesterday’s food. The fresh meal would be served next.
Silene’s belly knotted. She didn’t want to think of the prioress’ stingy behavior.
She ate very little and thought of how the captain had looked while he ate here, laughing with his friends. She was glad Mother had let them stay.
She used her time in the great hall to bid her sisters farewell. Agnes wept and clung to her. Silene was friends with all the novices and nuns, so her farewells took more time. She took the longest with the prioress, hugging her farewell and saying nothing about what Silene had heard about her.
She carried her bag to the small stable, where the men readied their horses. The captain was not there.
With the sisters following behind her, keeping a safe distance away, Silene marched onward into the midst of the four men. She looked around for someone with whom to give her bag. One of the men retrieved a horse that belonged to the nuns and handed it off to her. She secured her saddle as best she could and was almost done when the captain arrived with the prioress. He looked over her saddle from where he was standing and then made Silene freeze when he came steadily toward her. “Have ye ever tied yer saddle?”
She shook her head. “Nay, Captain.”
He moved her aside and began untying all the knots on her saddle. “’Tis verra important that ye know what ye are doin’ on a horse or they will throw ye.”
She watched him untie it, then retie it again, showing her how to do it.
“Now ye try.”
She took the leather straps from him and secured her saddle after the first try. He didn’t let her mount but checked the saddle first to make sure it was safe.
She didn’t ride horses. She’d never needed to. She’d always been content to be where she was. Only five of the sisters rode and, of course, the prioress knew how.
In her long scapular and habit, she could barely separate her legs enough to fit her foot into the high stirrup. She had to lift her skirts up to her knees. Some of the sisters watching gasped and covered their mouths with their hands.
Silene was torn between laughing and weeping. How was she supposed to ride a horse? She didn’t need to wonder long when the captain’s big hands closed around her waist from behind and lifted her off the ground, high in the air. She remembered to close her mouth, but barely, when she landed sideways in the saddle—gently, as if he were returning something fragile to its place.
“Thank you, Captain.” She turned to him, but he was already leaving, returning to his horse. Should she tell him that she had no idea how to ride? And, oh, she was high up! She made the sign of the cross and picked up the reins. What now? She watched the man closest to her pick up his. Before he did anything else, he turned and looked at her. He dipped his dark cinnamon brows over eyes that were the color of the sea. He moved slowly, demonstrating what she should do with her reins next.
She imitated him, flapping her reins.
Her horse took off running, almost leaving her behind. She foolishly held on, bouncing on the hard saddle until her brains felt joggled. With both legs on one side there was nothing to hold on to. She slipped and bounced off the beast and into the dirt on her buns.
She heard someone behind her chuckle. A man’s voice. When she thought of it while her insides settled, she imagined it was quite humorous. She wanted to throw her head back and laugh. But in the presence of men, such behavior was unsightly.
Still, she could barely contain a smile when the captain reached for her. He must have seen the amusement in her eyes and thought her odd, for he quirked his brow at her and almost smiled as well.
He took her hand and pulled her to her feet without any effort. His fingers were broad. His skin was rough and callused from wielding the enormous sword hanging from his belt. He looked as if he might speak but his gaze fixed on her forehead.
She lifted her hand to see what he was staring at and found a few tendrils of her hair had come loose in the fall from her horse. She tucked them back underneath her wimple.