Read The Red Abbey Chronicles Online

Authors: Maria Turtschaninoff

The Red Abbey Chronicles (9 page)

 

I
T WAS THE DAY AFTER THE
R
OSE HAD
chosen Ennike as her novice, in the early morning when the light is still thin and shadows linger around the mountains and houses, that we were woken by the sound of the Blood bell. We got out of bed in a daze. I chased all the junior novices outside in their nightgowns and with uncovered hair. We were met in the central courtyard by stern-faced sisters in nightgowns rushing across the courtyard from Eve Steps to Dawn Steps. They grabbed hold of the novices by their hands and arms and shoulders and dragged us along with them, pushing, shoving, pulling. We sped barefoot over the cold cobblestones up towards the stairs. The Blood bell clanged incessantly between the houses and I wondered who was ringing it.

As we climbed higher a brisk morning wind swept in from the sea, lifting our nightgowns, tangling our
hair. The sky was pale blue and cloudless. I heard a shout, saw a raised arm, a pointing finger. I turned to look at the sea.

A ship came sailing near the Teeth. Its white sails swelled with wind and the pointed bow ploughed through the water, making mighty splashes against the sides of the vessel.

The Blood bell quietened.

I already knew. I knew who it was and I turned to look for Jai in the crowd of white-clad figures jostling their way up the steps. I had to find her before she saw the ship. I caught sight of her blonde hair as she came running up with Joem and Dori.

“Jai!” I called. “Jai!”

I do not know if she heard, because at that moment Joem caught sight of the ship and pointed. As Jai looked she stopped in her tracks.

“We are lost.” Her voice was weak, but I heard every word. “We are all lost!”

She began to sway.

“She is falling! Catch her!”

Sister O managed to catch Jai in her sinewy arms just as she fell. Without stopping, she swept the girl up and continued up the steps with long, deer-like strides. For a while it was chaos, no one knew what
to do, everybody stared out to sea with frightened murmurs.

“Hurry!” Mother called. We all looked up and saw her standing there on the highest step, bareheaded like everyone else, her long grey hair like a silver waterfall around her shoulders. “We do not have much time.”

Everybody set off at once, climbing the steps in haste, into Hearth House where Sister Ers was holding the doors open. I ran in at the same time as Mother.

“I think I have everything,” I heard Sister Ers say quietly to Mother as we passed. “Some are old, how was I to know…”

Mother gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and continued into the hall.

I saw Joem rush past everyone and fall to her knees by the Hearth, where she quickly brought the embers to life. We positioned ourselves around the table, alternating sisters and novices. Someone went and opened all the windows wide. I stood where I could keep my eye on the Teeth and soon I saw the ship emerge from behind the farthest rock. I could not tear my eyes away from the white, foaming water. The sun was beginning to rise on the other side of the mountains, and, as the world lit up with its first rays, I saw something gleam on the ship.

Exposed weapons.

I had never been inside Hearth House with the sisters before. Sister Mareane was standing next to me, but then she moved to make space as Sister O herded Jai in next to me and rushed away. Jai had come to her senses but was still so pale I feared she might faint again. She was not shaking. She was completely still, like a mouse face to face with a hungry cat, hoping against hope that the cat will lose interest and leave it alone.

Sister Ers, Joem and Cissil rushed in carrying a brass dish. The dish was laid with dark-green leaves, almonds and candied rose petals.

“Take and eat,” they said as they negotiated their way between tables and shoulders. “One of each. Take. Eat. Hurry.”

I reached to take some for myself but Jai did not move a muscle so I took some for her also. I helped her put an almond to her lips and ate one myself. It tasted like earth and salt. The candied rose petal was sour and sweet at the same time.

Mother walked past, calm and dignified, her hair flowing in the breeze from the open windows. In her hands she held a golden chalice.

“Eat, my daughters. Then when you have eaten,
drink,” said Mother. “Then when you have drunk, tame your hair. Plait and braid, weave and bind. Do not let a single strand escape.”

I poked one of the strange leaves between Jai’s passive lips, then stuck one in my own mouth and chewed. The bitter taste filled me, from mouth to breast, from womb to sole. It tasted of sorrow and moonlight.

A draught came scurrying across the floor and chilled my ankles. I stopped chewing.

The breath of the Crone. Her realm was close again. A hush fell around me; the only sounds were the wind and the women’s quiet chewing. Was that the voice of the Crone I could hear whispering in the sails of the approaching ship? Was she saying my name? I could not swallow the leaf in my mouth. I could not move. If I moved she would find me.

Mother had come round to us and held the chalice in front of my mouth. The red wine washed down the leaf and the fear. The thick wine was sweet like honey and salty like blood.

Everyone around me had their hands in their hair, twisting, braiding and binding with skilled, nimble fingers. Sister Loeni and Sister Nummel rushed between the benches and tables to hand out bands
to tie it up with. I did not want to stand still and braid. Now that the wine had dispelled my paralysis, all I wanted to do was run. Run away from the ship, from the Crone, run up into the mountains and hide. My hands trembled as I started to braid.

The movement of my fingers through my hair calmed me. I had not braided my own hair since I lived at home, but my hands remembered how to do it. They twisted and lifted and tightened and twisted again. A calmness flowed through my body and I grew still and strong.

The wind coming through the windows began to settle.

Sister Mareane and I helped to bind Jai’s hair. As the plaits formed I could feel her relax, if only a little bit. It was a calm one could not resist.

Jai was the last one to have her hair bound. When we finished the wind died down completely. Everyone stood and looked out of the window and I strained to get a better view.

The sea was still and shining like a mirror. The surface was completely calm, without the slightest ripple. The sun had risen over the horizon but was still behind the mountains. The Abbey buildings cast long, sharp shadows. The ship lay between the Teeth
and the harbour with slack sails and water no longer frothed around the bow. My heart did a little leap of joy in my chest. All the sisters and novices were holding their breath.

Then there were movements on the ship. I could just about make out fair-haired men in black clothes. The shining weapons disappeared. Long contraptions came sliding out from holes along the sides of the ship.

Oars.

“To the Temple of the Rose,” cried Mother in a piercing voice. “Quick.”

We rushed out of Hearth House without a word. Braids whipped soft cheeks, bare feet drummed on smooth stone. We ran. I held Jai’s hand tightly in mine. Down Dawn Steps, over the central courtyard and up Eve Steps. We could see the ship the whole time. Edging ever closer. It was coming more slowly than before, but it was coming.

The Rose threw open the Temple doors and we hurried in. The coloured glass did not let much of the sparse morning light into the Temple and it was almost completely dark inside. I saw two figures dressed in white move swiftly up the stairs to the platform and disappear behind the double rosewood doors. Ennike and the Rose.

We stood in the colonnade and waited.

We could not see the sea from there. We did not know where the ship had got to. Jai was still holding tightly onto my hand. I was terrified. I thought about what the men would do to Jai—to all of us. I thought about the outer wall and whether it was high enough. How long could it keep the men out? My mouth could still taste the bitterness of the leaf, the sweetness of the rose petal, the earthiness of the almond.

The Rose and Ennike appeared up on the platform. It was strange to see them without their hair flowing over their shoulders. They held out two long silver candlesticks and lit two fat blood-red candles. The flames did little to illuminate the Temple, but they made shadows dance in the pale dawn light. The Rose and Ennike disappeared through the doors and came out again bearing something shiny in their hands.

“Let down your hair!” screamed the Rose in a new voice, a voice which cut through the silence like a knife. Ennike echoed. “Let down your hair!” Ennike’s voice was not her own either and it pierced me like a sword.

Now I could see what they were holding. It was the copper combs we had seen the day before.

We started to undo all the braids: fair and dark, red and silver.

A gust of wind swept in through the open doors.

Up on the platform the Rose and her novice loosened their hair with quick, expert movements. Then they picked up their combs and stuck them deep into their flowing hair.

A strong wind lashed at the Temple and made the rose windows rattle. The Rose let out a triumphant howl and pulled the comb through her hair with a long stroke.

“Awake, wind!” she called. “Come, storm!”

She flung her comb across the hall. I saw Sister O catch it and pull it through her hair. Another angry wind thrashed the roof of the Temple.

I undid my final braid. Small sparks flew from my hair when it was finally released. I quickly loosened Jai’s braids. Her hair crackled and hissed. Combs were flying across the hall and diving into hair, making it spark and fly. The Rose and Ennike pulled their fingers through their curls and tossed their heads with loud, shrill laughter. A comb landed in my hand and I pulled it through Jai’s hair first and then through mine.

The wind howled and battered furiously against the walls, ceiling and windows, until the great marble
doors flung open and crashed against the wall. The Temple was full of white-clad women stomping, swaying and writhing, and the faster we whipped our hair, the more the wind howled. I let go of Jai and fought my way towards the door. I had to see, I had to know.

I barely recognized the world outside.

The sky was black with storm clouds. All light had disappeared. The air was full of leaves, branches and detritus whipped up in the angry wind. I could not see the Abbey bay from the door because Sister House was in the way, so I fought against the wind and made my way across the Temple yard. The storm ripped and tore through my hair, and as it did so it seemed to grow more powerful still. My hair thrashed my face and eyes, blinding me. The flicks stung like whips from a thin leather strap.

It took a while to reach Eve Steps and get a clear view of the ocean. When I eventually caught sight of it, it was unlike anything I had ever seen before.

Waves higher than the Temple itself crashed against the shore. Water and foam filled the air. If the Abbey had been lower down by the beach we would have been destroyed a long time ago. The pier and the little storehouse next to it were
washed away. The ocean was wiping out everything in its path.

There was no trace of the ship.

* * *

It took all day for the storm to die down. We waited out the worst of it inside the Temple, then took shelter in Sister House, where the sisters tucked the youngest novices up in their own beds and the rest of us sat by the windows and watched as the ocean reshaped the entire coastline.

As evening drew near, it finally became calm enough for us to risk going outside and down Eve Steps. Sister Ers and her novices rushed off to prepare the evening meal, while Sister Kotke took the rest of the novices to Body’s Spring. The hot water was deeply soothing and we were allowed to stay in the bathing pool for as long as we wanted. Instead of going into the cold bath afterwards, we got dressed in the clothes that Sister Nummel brought us from Novice House. All the other sisters had hastened to see what damage had been done by the storm, and probably also to perform rituals and ceremonies I knew nothing about. Ennike was not with us. She had stayed in the Temple with the Rose.

Jai was unresponsive through it all. She did not speak and only moved if I pushed or pulled her along with me. I had to dry her hair and help her get dressed. As I was pulling her towards Dawn Steps on our way to Hearth House to eat, she stopped in the middle of the central courtyard and looked in the direction of the sea. We could not actually see it over the wall from where we stood, but we could hear the surf sputter and hiss against the rocks on the beach. The wind was still brisk and cold.

“They are still here,” she whispered. I had to lean forward to hear her words before the wind snapped them up. “I can feel it. They are out there somewhere. He’ll never give up, Maresi. Honour and pride are all he has. Without them he is nothing. He will do anything to get me back, and to punish me.”

She did not cry. She did not scream. But her resignation worried me more than her fear.

“But do you not see that the Abbey protects you?” I said softly. “You did not come to harm today and you never will.”

She turned and looked at me for the first time since she had seen the ship.

“He will
not
give up. He will be back.”

 

W
E SPENT THE WHOLE OF THE NEXT
day clearing up after the storm. Dislodged roof tiles needed to be replaced, the yards were full of rubbish and a tree had fallen across the mountain path and had to be sawn up and transported away. Large chunks of rock had tumbled down the mountainsides and ripped away a part of the wall where the drop to the sea is at its steepest. Sister Nar walked around grumbling about all the destruction to Knowledge Garden and Sister Mareane’s forehead was wrinkled with deep worry lines. Even our orchards had been damaged by the storm.

Jai, Ennike and I were assigned to help Sister Veerk and Luan clean up the beach. We found some remains of the pier and storehouse, the rest had been swept away by the sea. Sister Veerk made diligent notes about everything we needed to replace. Soon
our arms and backs ached from hauling heavy wet logs and planks farther up the beach, safe from the ocean’s ravenous waves. There was still a strong wind blowing which made our hair dance before our eyes and stick in the corners of our mouths when we spoke. I looked at Jai’s fair hair, at Ennike’s and Luan’s brown hair and at Sister Veerk’s black hair, all flowing free under their headscarves. So much hidden power.

Ennike and I were dragging a dark, age-cracked log out of the water. I looked over at Jai who was standing up to her middle in the cold sea next to Sister Veerk and Luan, heaving up stones which had rolled down and blocked the harbour. She groaned and screwed up her face with the strain. When a large rock required particular effort she roared loudly. Then she rested her hands on the rock, bowed her head and panted for a brief moment before poking Luan in the side to continue with the next stone together. Sister Veerk said something to her that I could not hear. I saw Jai hiss an answer.

Jai had not retreated into her shell this time. She had got angry.

We walked together up the narrow staircase to the Abbey. I showed her some pieces of smooth
grey driftwood I had collected from the beach. She scowled at them and turned away from me.

“Nobody is listening,” she said and started up the steps with long, angry stomps. “Everyone is running around worrying about the pier and the
fruit trees
.” She spat out the words. “And you!” She turned around so fast I bumped into her. Her hair was flailing in the wind and her eyes were black. I took a step back. “You know. No one else knows except you and Mother and probably a couple of the sisters. You know what happened to Unai. You know what Father wants. Do you think anyone will be spared when he really comes for us? Do you think he will be satisfied with taking only me? He will have his revenge on everyone who sheltered me. Everyone. And you go around collecting
driftwood
.”

She spun around and marched up the steps without looking back. I stayed where I was and swallowed hard. What did she want from me? If she had asked me to do something, I would have done it without question. But I did not know how I could help her if she insisted on blaming me.

* * *

We did nothing but clean up all that day and all the next. There were no lessons and we ate in Hearth House whenever we had time between tasks. Jai did not talk to me. She avoided me. She was acting differently, sharp and prickly like a thistle, and I did not know how to react to her snorts and scowls. She made sure we did not have the same duties, and on the second day I barely saw her at all. At first my heart ached for her. She was scared and I understood that. But why was she only angry with me? She had no reason to punish me!

I spent all afternoon carrying freshly sawn wood from the mountain path down to the woodshed by Hearth House. When evening came my hands were shaking from the strain, my arms ached and I barely made it to Hearth House to get some food.

Jai sat at one of the long tables talking to Cissil and Joem. I know she saw me but she avoided eye contact. They sat huddled together in an intense private conversation.

I took a cup of water and filled my plate with bread, cheese and pickled onion from the serving table. I looked over at Jai and realized I did not know where to sit. She was still acting as if I did not exist. I walked slowly past her and sat a little farther
away at the same table. None of them looked at me or let me join in the conversation. I stared out of the window on the west wall and tried to act as if I had chosen to sit alone, chewing on my bread as quickly as I could. I did not want Jai or Joem to see that I was upset.

When I had finished eating I got up and tried to catch Jai’s eye. She turned towards Joem and said something that made her nod emphatically. I stared straight ahead as I walked out of Hearth House with my lips pressed tightly together. I had been fine without Jai before she came to the Abbey, so I could be fine without her again.

That evening I had to go to the treasure chamber alone and that evening I wished for company more than ever. Sister O was not in her room when I knocked but she had given me permission to take the key in her absence, so I lifted it down and took it across the Temple yard to Knowledge House in the fading evening light. Fear gripped me as soon as I opened the door. I wished I had Jai by my side.

I walked stiffly down the corridor. I was approaching the door to the crypt. It was the first time I had had to walk past it alone since the Crone spoke to me. I clutched the key hard, as some sort of protection, as
a dagger. As I neared the door I started to run, quickly and quietly and though I did not hear the Crone, I knew she was there behind it. Biding her time.

When the doors to the treasure chamber were shut behind me I finally felt safe. I inhaled the familiar smell of dust and parchment. I stood awhile and just breathed. It was so different being there without Jai. It was like before she came, and yet it was not: I was used to her company now. Used to discussing which books we would choose, hearing her turn pages and then talking over what we had read while we locked the door to the treasure chamber and walked out through the dusky, dark house.

That evening I chose the ancient tales of the First Sisters. I have always loved reading about their journey to the island, their struggle to build Knowledge House and their survival in the first few years with nothing but fish and foraged wild fruits and berries as sustenance. Life on the island was difficult for the first few years. It did not get easier until some decades later, when they discovered the bloodsnail colony and the silver began to flow in.

I love reading about the island’s first novice and how rumours started to spread and the Abbey became a sanctuary for the vulnerable and the persecuted.
I revelled in the story and the comforting sense of security it always afforded me.

It was already late in the evening and the light from the window was grey and dim. The massive bookshelves loomed in silence along the walls, full of treasure. The First Sisters planned all of this. They knew they would preserve their knowledge for generations of women after them. How must it have felt when they found the island and were saved? What were they thinking about?

Amid the prevailing silence, I heard the door to Knowledge House open and shut. Rapid footsteps came along the long corridor and the library doors were thrown open.

“There you are. Sister O said I would find you here.” Sister Loeni stood in the door with her hands on her hips. “I know it is late and you have been working hard, but Sister Ers has just discovered that a fallen tree made a hole in the storehouse roof. We must mend it immediately, at least temporarily; else the food store will be ruined if it rains. You have been assigned to help.”

“I am so tired,” I said quietly. It was true. As I put the books back in their places under Sister Loeni’s watchful eyes, my arms were trembling so much I
had to struggle with the heavier volumes. She tutted disapprovingly and shook her head.

“If I was responsible for the library I would never let you run around doing whatever you please. Sister O gives you too much freedom, so she does. She shouldn’t give you such preferential treatment.”

She does not show me preferential treatment at all, I thought, but out loud I simply said, “Is there no one else who can help?”

I locked the door behind me begrudgingly and gave the key to Sister Loeni, who was standing with her hand outstretched expectantly.

“There are several of us already working on it, Maresi. Everyone else is busy with other things. Now then, do not dally. It will not take long and then you can go to bed. No more reading for today.”

But it did take a long time to clear away the tree and mend the roof. By the time we finished it was already night. My head was aching with fatigue but my body was jittering with worry. Something stopped me from going to Novice House and to bed. I felt I needed to see the horizon and be able to breathe solitude. When the sisters were not looking I stole away into the shadows, left through the goat door and walked up the mountainside.

I know the mountain above the Abbey as well as I know Knowledge House, but this time everything was different. Stones had rolled down the slope and there were fallen trees and branches everywhere. I could not see the path in the faint twilight and I soon went astray. Suddenly I found myself too far north, looking down on the Temple of the Rose. I sat down on a rock and tightened my pullover around my shoulders. The night’s first stars were shining in the west. The sea glittered silver under the crescent of the new moon, caressed by a cool night wind. The Abbey rested in darkness below me. Everybody was asleep. The only lamplight came from Moon House and from Sister O’s window. Beneath me the island of Menos mumbled and sighed, getting ready for sleep. Even the nightbirds had settled down to rest. The stillness, the beauty and the crescent moon calmed my senses, but my anxiety refused to let go completely. I thought about Jai, who had been my friend since her very first day but had now turned away from me. I could not understand why.

After a while my toes felt stiff with cold and I realized it was time to go back. I got up and started walking tentatively in the direction of where I thought the path should be. The slope was slippery with fallen
leaves and naked earth. I stumbled several times and was not entirely sure where I was. Some bushes appeared in front of me that I could not remember seeing before.

Suddenly I stepped on something soft. The ground beneath me gave way and a hole opened under my feet. I managed to lurch forward in time so I did not fall down the hole but hung there instead with my belly on the ground and legs dangling down. The storm must have uncovered an underground cavern.

I heard a rustling around me. In the faint moonlight I saw hundreds of iridescent butterflies flutter up out of the bushes. Their wings looked unnaturally large and they shone silver and grey in the soft light. The butterflies seemed never-ending as more and more and more flew out of the bushes and into the night. I was entranced by the beauty and stayed hanging there, enraptured. It was like a goodnight greeting from the island itself.

When the last butterfly had flown I heard the voice.

Maresi
, it whispered.
My daughter
.

It came from the hole beneath me. She was there in the darkness. Waiting. I could feel her icy grasp on my feet. She was grappling to get hold of me. I
kicked and screamed as loud as I could to drown out the sound of her voice.

“You cannot have me!” I screamed. “I am not yours!”

I crawled up and out of the Crone’s icy reach. The bushes around me were still rustling. At first I thought it was more butterflies, but this time skinny shapes came slithering out through the grass and around my feet. Snakes. Dozens, hundreds of snakes wriggled hissing from the bush. They disappeared into holes, under stones, between knotted cypress roots. I stood dead still. Snakes are rarely seen on the island, and here were more snakes than I had ever seen before in my whole life. They made me think of the handle on the Crone’s door, and fear seized me in its strong grip. I wanted to run away from the cavern and the Crone but I could not move for fear of the snakes. Only when the last snake had disappeared did I dare take a single step. Then a second step. I stamped every step as hard as I could in my sandals to frighten away the snakes.

To frighten away the Crone herself, if I could.

It took me an eternity to get back to the path. When I finally found it in the darkness I ran down to the goat door. I had left it ajar and now I closed it behind me.

I closed it, I know I did. I can still hear the click from when I pulled it shut behind me. But I cannot remember if I bolted it.

I was so tired and so afraid of the Crone. I wanted to go to my bed, to safety under my own blanket. My legs were shaking and my arms were aching after the day’s work. I usually always bolt the door, but however much I think about it, I cannot remember if I did that night.

I crept into bed. For a short while I lay there listening to the other girls breathing. I knew that if I stretched my hand out to Jai she would not take it. Finally I was so exhausted that sleep took hold of me and enveloped me like a grave. I slept so deeply and dreamlessly that it took me a long time to swim back up to the surface when a rhythmic noise cut into my sleep.

It was long before dawn. The sound that woke me came from the window. A sharp, rhythmic tapping.

In the bed next to mine Jai sat upright, her hands twitching and gripping the edge of her blanket. She was staring at the window.

There was a flapping and rustling outside. Something large thudded against the glass. Then the tapping started again, this time even more insistent.

Dori’s Bird made a whistling sound. Dori jumped up out of bed, rushed over to the window and flung it open before I could stop her.

In flew a koan bird, the symbol of the Abbey. It circled the dormitory and let out a single piercing shriek. Dazed heads and groans of protest emerged from the beds around me. Jai did not take her eyes off the koan bird.

“The birds…” she said quietly. “The birds bring warning.”

Ennike had woken up. She was listening but did not say a word.

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