Chapter 16.2.2

He frowned, and looked out the window. "This summer, perhaps. Now the roads are covered with snow."

I might be free to go where I wished, but he was still bound to his lord.

He brightened. "Still, the road to Slatten should be open. We could go there, and see if we find anyone we know."

"When would we go?"

"I need to finish my penance, first, then take communion. And it will be best for you to rest at least a week more."

"I don’t wish to wait long," I signed back.

A rattle of dishes came from the door. Peter stood there with a tray in his hands, his eyes wide and his face stern. He looked at Charles, then at me.

The knight lifted his hands. "Do you remember the rats in Wellcome’s dungeon? They were four feet long, the color of swamp mud, and stank worse than a midden. Three of them took less than to hours to strip that horse to its bones, then..."

Peter set down the tray by my bed. "Idle chatter is not becoming to a monastery, and neither are idle hands."

Charles snatched up his broom and darted out the door, surprisingly quick for one of his frame.

"There is more between you and the knight than I thought," Peter said quietly.

"This is not our first adventure together," I signed back. "He knows the language of the hands, and is a welcome companion."

Peter bit his lip, as if blocking off further questions. "Here is your breakfast."

Had our discussion from the night before offended him? I asked him about it.

He shook his head, paused, then spoke. "I talked with the abbot. He reminded me that you are a Heathen and ignorant of the truths of the Christian faith. That you have good intentions, but still, it is best that I speak to you no more than necessary. Then he sent me to ponder the stations of the cross until all impure thoughts were cleansed from my mind."

What was impure about accepting the summons of a god?

"But I must know, Gerard – why did you come to Rockridge disguised as a Silent Monk?"

"There truly is something wrong with my voice, and I cannot speak. No one questions a Silent Monk’s lack of speech."

"But – why did you come to Rockridge at all?"

"To help the Lady Laurice escape with the Bard." That was true enough.

He sighed. "And now that she has chosen his apprentice, we are both cast aside."

Far too true.