Eyes still closed, she drew, in her mind, the form of the rose, but its shape and airy substance vanished like bird tracks in sand washed by the tide; she could not keep hold of it. But she could use the table as a kind of engraving surface. She set her hand lightly on the polished wood grain and carefully, precisely, traced out the dimensions of the Rose on the wood. Such a slight task to make her sweat so; her face flushed with heat, and she felt warm all over.
Hand drawn to the end of the pattern, palm hanging half over the lip of the table, she paused.
A sudden noise jolted her out of her concentration.
“Liath? Is there a fire in here?”
Liath jumped up so fast she banged her thighs on the table’s edge. Cursing under her breath, she spun around. “Hanna! You startled me!”
Hanna wrinkled up her nose, sniffing, and cast about, rather like a dog. “Your brazier must have overheated. It smells like burned wood. You’d better—” But even as she spoke, the scent dissipated. Hanna sighed, heartfelt. “At least you have color in your cheeks.” She walked forward and took Liath’s hands in hers. “I hate to always see you so pale.”
“Does Hugh know you came here?” Liath asked, darting to the door and looking out. The passageway remained empty. She heard Lars chopping wood outside.
“Of course not. I saw him riding out—”
“He’ll know you’re here. He’ll come back.”
“Liath! Take hold of yourself.” Hanna grasped Liath’s hands and chafed them between her own. “How can he know if he’s gone from the village? He didn’t see me leave the inn.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll know.” Liath was shaken by a sudden swell of emotion. “You’re all I have left, Hanna,” she said in a hoarse voice, and then, abruptly, hugged her fiercely. “It’s all that’s kept me safe, knowing I can trust you.”
“Of course. Of course you can trust me.” But Hanna hesitated and slowly pushed back out of Liath’s arms. “Listen. I’ve spoken to Ivar. He needs servants to go with him, to keep him in proper state at the monastery. He’s taking—me.” Liath, stunned, heard the rest of Hanna’s confession through a veil of numbness. “I’m sorry, Liath. But it was the only way I could get out of marrying young Johan. Mother and Father have agreed to it.”
With nothing left to hold her up, Liath sank down onto the chair.
“Oh, Liath. I knew—I never meant—” Hanna dropped to her knees. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I don’t want you to leave me. But Liath knew she could not speak so.
“No,” she said instead, so softly the words barely took wing in the air. “You must go. You can’t marry Johan. If you go with Ivar, then you can find a better marriage or a better position. Quedlinhame is a fine town. Both monastery and convent are ruled over by Mother Scholastica. She is the third child of the younger Arnulf and Queen Mathilda. She is a learned woman. That is why she has the name, Scholastica. She was baptized as Richardis.” It was all there, in the city of memory, all the knowledge that Da had taught her neatly lined up in niches, along avenues, under portals and arches, but what good was it if she was utterly alone? She wanted to cry but dared not, for Hanna’s sake. So she kept talking. “Queen Mathilda retired to Quedlinhame after King Arnulf the Younger died and their son Henry became king. All of Quedlinhame is under her grant, her special protection, so it is a very fine place, they say. I believe the king holds court at Quedlinhame every year at Holy Week, when he can, to honor his mother. There will be every opportunity for someone as clever as you to advance yourself in service. Perhaps you can even attach yourself to the king’s progress, to his household. He has the two daughters, Sapientia and Theophanu, who are old enough now to have their own entourages, their own retainers.”
Hanna laid her head on Liath’s knees. The weight and warmth were comforting and yet soon to be gone from her forever. “I’m so sorry, Liath. I would never leave you, but Inga will be coming back from Freelas in the summer with her husband and child, so there isn’t room for me. It must be marriage or service.”
“I know. Of course I know.” But hope leached out of Liath like water from a leaking pail. She shut her eyes, as if by being blind she could cause this all not to come to pass by not seeing it happen.
“Liath, you must promise me you won’t lose hope. I won’t desert you. I’ll try every means to secure your release.”
“Hugh will never release me.”