Rusty hinges complained as the gate swung open. CC tried to sit straighter, ashamed of her bedraggled appearance. But before she could even smooth her hair, Andras slid from the horse's back and pulled her down beside him. CC was horrified to realize that she couldn't stand on her own. Her vision was blurred and everything went cloudy and gray as her knees buckled. Instantly the warrior lifted her into his arms.
"The princess needs rest and care. I found her washed ashore not far from here."
"Brother Peter, have the guest quarters readied for this lady and have one of the sculleries attend to her." CC could hear the scuffle of robes as the man hurried to do the abbot's bidding.
"Are there other survivors to follow, my son?"
CC could feel the warrior shaking his head.
"Poor child," the priest spoke quietly, but he made no attempt to mask the obvious curiosity in his voice. "And you say she is a princess?"
"She remembered her name, but I am afraid she has not been able to say much else," Andras said.
"What is her name?"
"She is the Princess Undine."
Silence greeted the knight's words, and CC wanted desperately to open her eyes and see the abbot's expression. But common sense warned her that it was best to keep up the pretense that she had fainted and was still unconscious.
"Undine?" The man enunciated the name carefully. "Are you quite certain she said Undine?"
"I believe so," Andras answered. "Yes, I am certain she told me her name was the Princess Undine. Do you recognize that name, Father?"
"I only know that in some tongues an undine is a spirit from the sea. How very odd."
"Abbot William." The first monk hurried back to them. "The guest room is ready for the lady and the scullery awaits."
"Let us get her safely within," Andras said. "There will be time to question names and such when she has recovered." CC could feel the warrior's eyes on her and when he spoke his lips were close to her ear. "Look at her, Abbot. It is most certain that she is a princess." Andras's arms tightened possessively around her.
"Let us not be deceived by beauty, my son." The abbot's voice was condescending. "But you are correct, she must rest before we can expect her to speak. Follow me to the guest quarters."
CC rested her head against Andras's shoulder, slitting her eyes to try and catch a glimpse of her surroundings. She saw the green of the grass as they crossed some kind of courtyard, and she was surprised to note the fading light. It was obviously dusk, but it had seemed like only minutes had passed since she had been pulled ashore by the merman. Her hand twitched in remembrance. Surly that wasn't his kiss that she still felt warming her skin?
When they entered the monastery, the heels of Andras's shoes rang against the stone of the floor, and all CC could see through her half-closed eyes was the gray of the stone walls in a dark, narrow corridor.
"Through that door, my son," the priest instructed. "Leave her on the bed. The maid will care for her."
Andras put her gently on a hard, cotlike bed and reluctantly released his hold on her. CC curled onto her side, careful to keep her eyes closed.
"Isabel!" Abbot William's voice was hard and cold when he addressed the maid. "Get her some water with which to wash and one of the good Brother's robes to wear until her own clothing can be cleaned and dried. If she can take sustenance, offer her some broth and watered wine. Then come report her progress to me."
"Yes, Abbot." CC could hear the rustle of the servant's skirts as she curtseyed and rushed out of the room.
"Let us have our own dinner, my son. There will be ample time to speak with the child tomorrow." The priest's voice lost its hard edge when he spoke to the knight. "Your princess is in excellent hands, and as you said, she must rest."
The door closed securely behind them. CC breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. The room was small and barren. The walls were made of thick gray stone. CC hugged herself, feeling a chill that the newly lit fire did little to dispel. The room held only a small, hard bed that was covered with a scratchy brown blanket and a narrow dresser on which was placed a large, plain bowl made of brown pottery. Over the head of the bed hung the only decoration in the room—a wooden crucifix which was bare except for pointed splinters of wood resembling nails that had been driven into it where Christ's hands and feet would have hung.
She squinted and stepped closer to the crucifix. During her years in the air force she had attended church services on several bases for many different denominations, everything from Baptist to Methodist, Protestant to Catholic, but she had never seen anything like that nail-decorated cross. Something about the barren crucifix made her feel very alone.
A breath of fresh air blew into the small room and ruffled her hair. CC breathed deeply, savoring a scent that was at once magical and familiar. She took another deep breath. The air was filled with salt and water and life. Desire flooded her. As if she followed the sound of an imaginary Pied Piper, her face turned to the wall farthest from the door. High up on that wall was cut a narrow window slit, probably less than three feet wide. CC's body went still as she breathed in the odors of the sea. She could hear the rush of the waves against the shore. She could almost feel the warm fingers of water against her body.
An image came to her of Dylan pressing her hand to his lips. She touched the back of that hand, remembering the jolt of feeling his caress had caused.
The door opened and CC jumped guiltily. A small, stooped woman wearing a dress made of rough, nondescript brown wool limped into the room. Her face was so heavily wrinkled that it almost looked deformed; CC thought that she had to be the ugliest woman she had ever seen. In one skeletal hand, she balanced a tray, which held a pitcher, a goblet and a bowl. In the other, she clutched a folded piece of material. Her body jerked in surprise when she saw that CC was awake and instantly dropped into a nervous, lopsided curtsey, sloshing some of the red liquid out of the goblet.
"Oh! I am so sorry, Princess." She lurched over to the dresser, pushing the tray onto the top of it. In her haste she almost knocked over the bowl that was already sitting there. "I am afraid you startled me. I thought you would still be asleep."
Her voice was low and whispery and creaked with age.
"It's me who should be sorry," CC said quickly, covering her shock at the woman's appearance. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
The old woman ducked her head and wouldn't meet her eyes. She curtseyed awkwardly again, then stood nervously plucking at her skirt with her free hand. CC waited for her to say something, but she just stood, looking like she couldn't decide if she wanted to faint or run.
CC cleared her throat and gestured at the goblet that was still on the tray. In a gentle voice she said, "I really am very thirsty."
"Yes, of course, my lady!" In a shaky motion, the woman yanked the goblet from the tray and held it out to CC, who took it with a grateful smile and drank deeply. It was wine watered with cool water, and it was sweet and delicious.
"If the princess will allow me to help her disrobe, I will take, her garments to be cleaned and dried." She shook out the material with her gnarled hands and it became a towel-sized cloth and a long robe. "I will help you wash the saltwater from your body, then you can wear this robe until your clothes have dried."
CC looked down at her dress, which was really several dresses, each layered over the top of the other. Even wet the skirts hung gracefully and the long, full sleeves ended in embroidered points that almost dragged the floor. The outfit was certainly beautiful, but she didn't see one zipper or one hook. She had no idea how she would get out of it without the woman's help, and she was honestly too tired to care.