Chapter 15.3

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I looked up to see Charles standing beside my bed. His clothes and weapons had been replaced by a simple monastic robe, tied with a rope. He looked excited, though, not deprived.

"Good day," I signed.

"You’re awake. Good." He smiled and sat down in the chair. "The abbot thinks you are a monk from west of the Royal City."

I signed, "Did you tell him that?"

Charles shook his head. "I said only that I met you on the road and agreed to help you. But some of the other monks said that they had seen you off to the west, and that you might be of Saint Sebastian’s Monastery."

Songless was indeed west of here, but any monk that had seen me there would know who and what I was. I had friends here, apparently. Their silence, however, was a message that I too needed to keep the truth quiet. "What have you been doing while I’ve been here?"

"Penance." He grinned. "I’m to keep all the walks free of snow as penance for my many sins."

"That makes you happy?"

"When I’m finished, I may take my first communion. I’ll be a complete Christian then – and I can pray for your soul."

"And I shall sing for your heart," I signed back.

He laughed, a joyful sound. Then he sobered. "I only hope that this will pay for all my sins, even the ones I had no time to confess. I talked from Terce to Sext, until the priest sent me away. When I asked if I could come back, he suggested a pilgrimage instead."

"Perhaps I may join you," I signed. There was, after all, no need for me to return to Songless after this. I owed no allegiance to the lord who had abandoned me.

"I’d best go now, before I am missed," Charles said. "No one is supposed to see you or talk to you, other than Peter or the herbalist – but I’ll still come tomorrow."

"Wouldn’t that be a sin?"

He grinned, wide and easy. "It can go with the other unconfessed sins."

For some reason, I felt that all his sins against me, minor as they were, went in that category.