"Ah." Magnus smiled. "Like to the Order of Cassettes, who did save thee when thou went left for dead."
"Very much like them, in that they decided to set themselves up as a convent, without anybody's sponsorship or approval-but unlike them, in that they're Catholic, and these people aren't."
"They are Christians, certainly."
"Oh, yes, certainly Christians-but they don't believe in the Trinity, from what I heard the priest say during that funeral sermon-if you can call it that. And Heaven only knows how many other differences there are."
"Heaven should know, indeed," Magnus murmured.
A young woman bustled out, bearing a tray, and set it down between them. "There, gentlemen! Thou wilt pardon my hurry, but I am like to be late for schooling if I haste not." She set a bowl in front of Rod, then another in front of Magnus-but her motions were more deliberate with him. Magnus followed the dainty hand as it drew back, and looked up along the arm to a round, pretty face with large blue eyes, framed in blonde curls that escaped from under the rim of a white bonnet. She wore a brown dress with a white apron, both cut very fully, almost as though she were trying to disguise her figure-which probably she was; Rod had noticed the same kind of dress on all the other women.
The sexual mores of the community apparently tended toward the puritanical. But the folds of the fabric were draped enough to hint at a voluptuous figure, and the apron cinched in about a very slender waist. Magnus gazed up at her face, and smiled slowly. Her eyes sparked with interest just before she modestly lowered them, blushing.
Calculation or innocence? Rod wondered. Too early to tell, either way. "You have a free school here?"
"Nay." The girl grimaced. " 'Tis not free; we must attend it, whether we would or no."
Rod smiled, amused. Didn't every young one say the same? "But you don't have to pay in order to go."
"Pay?" The girl smiled. "We've little use for money, gentlemen; the bishop keeps it for us all. Nay, we give him a tithe of all our crops, and timber, and cloth, even as our neighbors do in return for our ale. And we cook and serve the meat they bring, even as some wives sew the bishop's robes, and those of the curate and the nuns; others cook their meals, in turn. So there's little need for payment, at the least in coin."
"I expect you'll be glad of ours, anyway." Rod slid a few coppers across the table. The girl stared at them, wide-eyed, then picked one up for closer inspection. Her lips curved in a smile. "True money! So rarely have I seen it!"
"Then thou couldst mistake it," Magnus pointed out. "It could be lead, painted over. Bite, and if it shows not the mark of thy teeth, 'tis hard, and therefore like to be real."
The girl turned her smile upon him, her eyelids lowering. "And canst thou teach me what is real in the world, and what is not?"
Their gazes connected, and Magnus felt a thrill shoot through him, feeling her challenge and attraction both. Opportunity was calling-but opportunity for what? He smiled slowly, very much aware of the lush curves hidden by the rough, loose tunic, the full lips, the inviting eyes-but also marginally aware that his own defenses had risen, that he had become wary of demands in reserve, of the potential attempt to use him. He bore that in mind as he returned her smile, and found that he could think of things other than the girl herself. He tilted his head to the side, and answered, "I would think thou hast teachers enough. Didst thou not speak of school?"
"Aye," she said, "yet I have little wish to learn what the nuns teach. Thy matters, though, might entrance me."
Rod glanced from one to the other, very much aware of the girl's appeal for his son, and wondering already what her motive was. Somehow, he doubted that she was interested in the Gentle Giant for himself alone.
"I am hight Hester," the girl said. "And thou?"
"I am hight Magnus," the young man said with a slow smile, as though he was relishing the encounter.
And in truth, he was. Wary of the girl's motives though he might be, the sensations her interest aroused in him were quite enjoyable. The early stages of this game were very pleasurable, and he intended to appreciate every moment of it. Time enough to withdraw when the game became-deeper, and the stakes needed to be put on the table. "Thou art not yet too fully grown for school?" Magnus asked.
The girl made a moue. "I have only some six months and a few days I must attend. Surely a dozen years of schooling more than suffice for any woman! Nay, to answer thy question, gentleman, I would say that I am grown enough, and more-but the bishop and his nuns would not agree."
"And their word holds sway?"
"Of course." The girl stared in unfeigned surprise. "Do they not ever?"
Magnus exchanged a glance with Rod, and said, "I have never met a bishop before-nor am I like to now, I warrant."
"Oh, he doth wish to speak with all newly come to our village!"
"I doubt me an we'll tarry long enough to be newly come," Magnus answered. He gave her a roguish smile, though, and added, "Still there might be benefit in dallying a while."
"Hester!" the innkeeper snapped, hurrying out of the kitchen. "Wherefore standest thou there in converse? Thou shalt be late for school!" He thrust a slate and a cloth bag at her.
"Oh, aye, Papa;" the girl said, with a sigh. She took the bag and slate, and turned back to Magnus. "I must away, good gentleman." Again, the innocent's attempt at a sultry smile. "Shall I see thee when I am freed?"
"Hester!" the innkeeper barked, instantly angry; but she turned a saucy smile on him. "Ought I not seek to interest him in our congregation, Papa?"
That toned the innkeeper down to a glower. "In our congregation, aye . . ."
"And I am minded to see more of thy town and thy ways." Magnus stood, facing Hester. "May I accompany thee to the school, maiden?"
"Why, I should be delighted, sir," she chirped, and the two of them set off side by side.
The innkeeper stared after them, appalled, but at a loss-by the rules of their society, he couldn't object-at least not without stronger reason for suspicion.
Rod let him off the hook. "Don't worry, I'll be right behind them." He pushed his chair back from the table. "Thanks for the breakfast, innkeeper-it was quite filling." He gestured toward the pennies. "I hope that'll cover it."
The innkeeper stared at the money. "Oh, aye, sir! 'Tis too much!"
"Then I'll come back for lunch." Rod strode toward the door. "Sorry to be abrupt, but I'm going to have to hurry to keep up with them." And he set off after his son, as he'd been doing for most of the last ten years.
"Thy father would have to follow us," Hester said, nettled. "Can they not let us live as we would?"
"Why, he can, and hath done so aforetime," Magnus said, "yet I believe he, too, doth wish to see this school of thine. 'Tis rare, seest thou."
"Rare?" Hester looked up with a quick frown. "Why, how so?"
"Outside this forest, few of the commonfolk have schools of any sort," Magnus explained.
"Ah, fortunate are they!" Hester sighed. "Would I had grown in such a village."' And, for no discernible reason, she gave Magnus a smile that would have melted ice.
"Why?" Magnus asked, with keen interest-not altogether intellectual. "Hath not knowledge made thy life richer?"
"Oh, I must say that it hath," Hester sighed, "for the nuns do tell us the Word doth enrich our souls, and increase our chances of Heaven."
"Oddly phrased." Magnus frowned. "Yet it doth, at least, tell me why thou hast a school. Thou dost wish Heaven, dost thou not?"
"Oh, aye," Hester said, with another sigh, "though only for its succor from the fires and torments of Hell, which the good sisters have told us of."
Magnus cocked his head to the side. "Thou dost not wish eternal bliss?"
"The bliss I wish is here and now-or could be." She stared directly into his eyes, hers seeming to become huge. "The Heaven in the sky is so dull a place, from all they say-only taking ease on clouds, and playing of harps and singing of hymns. The Heaven I wish is very much of this world."