“Austra Laesdauter, are you making fun of me?”
“No, I’m not. I hope for your sake he does come. You still love him, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And this what’s-his-name—”
“Cazio?”
“Yes, that’s it. How did you meet him? You said you would tell me.”
Anne considered that. “This is one of those secrets, Austra,” she said finally. “One of our sacred ones.”
Austra placed her hand on her heart. “By Genya Dare, I’ll keep this secret.”
Anne explained how she’d found her way out of the cave and met Cazio, still leaving out any mention of the mysterious woman and her newfound senses. She felt ashamed for that, but something still warned her it was prudent.
“So you see,” Anne concluded, “whatever impression Cazio made tonight, at heart he is an ill-mannered rogue.”
“A handsome one, though,” Austra said.
Anne opened her mouth, closed it, and then laughed. “You’re taken with him,” she said.
“What?”Austra’s face scrunched in dismay. “No, I’m not.”
Anne folded her arms and looked skeptically down one shoulder. “You stayed behind me a bit,” she said. “What happened? What did he say to you?”
Austra blushed deeply enough that it was visible even by candlelight. “It’s as you say,” she said, looking toward the corner of the room as if she had lost something there. “He is an errant rogue.”
“Austra, tell me what happened.”
“You’ll be angry,” Austra said.
“I’ll be angry only if you keep so secretive and phayshot. Tell me!”
“Well—he gave me a bit of a kiss, I think.”
“You think?” Anne asked. “What do you mean, you think? He either kissed you or he didn’t.”
“He kissed me then,” Austra said, a bit defiantly.
“You are taken with him,” Anne accused again.
“I don’t even know him.”
“The fickleness of the man!” Anne exploded. “First he’s doting on me, then twelve heartbeats later he’s slavering over you. What could you see in such a faithless heart?”
“Nothing!” Austra said. “Only …”
“Only what?”
“Well, it was nice. The kiss. He kisses well.”
“I wouldn’t know how he kisses. I wouldn’t want to.”
“You shouldn’t. You have Roderick for that. Anyway, I’m sure neither of us will ever see Casnar da Chiovattio again.”
“If the saints are kind.”
Austra shrugged and turned back to the window. “Oh!” she said.
“What is it? Is he down there?” Anne said. “That would be typical of him, to follow us back here and bother us.”
“No, no,” Austra averred. “Not unless he brought friends. Look at all the torches.”
“What? Let me see.”
Anne shouldered her way into the window, and saw that Austra was right. A long glowworm of lights was approaching the coven. Anne heard the snorting of horses and the sound of hooves.
“Who could that be, at this hour?” Anne wondered.
“A Sefry caravan, perhaps,” Austra offered. “They travel in darkness.”
“Maybe,” Anne replied dubiously.
At that moment, the coven bells began to peal the signal to gather.
“I suppose we’re going to find out,” Anne said.
Sister Casita met them in the courtyard at the foot of the stairs, where other sleepy girls were already beginning to converge, murmuring in irritation and confusion at being wakened so soon after bed.
“Go to the wine cellar,” Casita said, gesturing in the general direction with a willow wand. “Remain there until you are told to return to your rooms.”
“What’s going on?” Anne asked. “We saw riders approaching from the tower.”
“Hush, Sister Ivexa. Keep quiet and do as you’re told. Go to the wine cellar.”
“I’m going nowhere until I know what’s wrong,” Anne insisted.
Before Anne could dodge, Sister Casita switched her across the mouth with her wand. Anne tried to cry out, but found her lips frozen together.
“Obey me,” Casita said, to all of the girls assembled there.
Seeing what had happened to Anne, no one else dared question her. Anne, furious and frightened, nevertheless went with the rest of the girls toward the cellar.
The sacaum Sister Casita had laid on Anne’s lips wore off a few moments later, leaving only an odd tingling in her jaws. By then she and Austra had reached the head of the stairs that led below the coven, but rather than descending them with the rest of the girls, Anne pulled Austra into a side corridor.
“Come on,” she said.
“Where?”
“Up on the wall. I’m going to find out what the matter is.”
“Are you mad? Haven’t you learned not to disobey yet?”
“We’ll keep hidden. But I’m going to find out. Something is wrong. I think the coven is under attack.”
“Why would anyone attack a coven?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m not going into the wine cellar.”
“Anne—”
“Go with the rest if you like,” Anne said. “I know what I’m doing.”
She turned and walked off. After a moment she heard a sigh and the soft swish of Austra following her.
They wound past the kitchen and the herb garden beyond, to where the small arbor of grapevines sent tendrils out to climb the cracked stone. There, Anne remembered, was a narrow stair that led to the top of the wall that surrounded the coven. It was steep and crumbly, and she slipped twice, but soon enough they had reached the top and the walkway there. She began softly moving toward the front gate, Austra behind her. Once, they heard running feet and ducked into the shadows of a tower as a robed figure entered it. Anne listened to the muted sound of footsteps ascending its heights, then scurried past.
The large court inside the front gate was filled with dark-robed figures, the greatest part of the members of the Cerian order. Sister Secula wasn’t with them; she stood on the wall above the gate, along with Sisters Savitor and Curnax, looking down at whoever was there. Anne could hear that she was talking, but couldn’t make out the words. She crept ever nearer, Austra still following, and together they discovered an outjutting section of the bastion from which they could see both Sister Secula and the men who had arrived outside the gate.
“Saints!” Anne murmured.
In the torchlight she made out about thirty riders, handsomely mounted on warhorses and clad in full plate. None of them, however, bore standards—not even their leader, who wore armor gilded at the edges and sat his horse about two yards in front of the rest. He had his visor pushed up, but Anne couldn’t discern his features at the distance. He was talking to Sister Secula—or, rather, she was talking to him.
“… the matter,” the mestra was saying. “We are under the protection of the church and the meddisso. If you do not heed me, the consequences will be dire. Now, go.” Her voice was taut with command, and even though her words weren’t directed at Anne, they made her wince. She wouldn’t want to be that knight, whoever he was.
The knight, however, seemed unimpressed. “That I may not, lady,” he shouted up. Behind him, spurs rattled and horses stamped. The smell of burning tar from torches wafted over the wall. The whole scene was unreal, dreamlike.
“I am sworn to this,” the knight continued. “Send her out, and we can be done with this business. Make whatever complaints you wish.”
“You think because you come as cowards, bearing no standard or emblem, we will not find who you are?” Sister Secula returned. “Go. You will get nothing here save the curses of the saints.”
“The saints are with us, Sister,” the knight replied matter-of-factly. “Our cause has no blemish, and I do not fear any shinecraft you may loose on me. I warn you once more. Send me down Anne Dare, or you will force me to incivility.”
“Anne!” Austra gasped.