Xan ran while the boom, boom, boom crashed in his head.
As he got closer to the dorm, the girl’s voice rang out again. “Leave me alone!”
Jeering boys shouted over one another.
“She’s afraid of warts!”
“She’s gonna cry.”
“Don’t let her go!”
Joshua ran out to meet him. “You have to help Lucy!”
Why him? He was the newest boy at the abbey; all he wanted was to go home. Is this the kind of thing he’d done back in Hardonbury, running from place to place rescuing girls in distress?
Too out of breath to speak, he kept on until he reached the rim of the circle.
“Lucy, Lucy, smells like a goosey,” one of the boys mocked.
Six boys surrounded the black-haired girl—her soft, brown eyes moist with anger. She wore a dainty belt around a white, ankle-length tunic. A speck of a mole graced her pale cheek. She seemed about the same age as Xan.
“I told you to let me pass,” Lucy said, her voice strong and crisp.
The other delivery girl must have slipped out of the circle and fled back to the nuns, because she was nowhere in sight.
“What’s going on here?” Xan said, barely able to talk as he huffed.
“Well, well, look who’s here: our forgetful new friend, Sire Clumsy.”
Of course, it was John, the leader of all the mischief. His muscular arm held a huge, croaking toad toward Lucy. She pushed his hand away.
Xan’s interruption gave her a chance to escape. She bolted to the edge of the circle, but one of the hooligans grabbed her hair and yanked her back. She cried out in pain.
“Stop this!” Xan said in his sternest voice. But why should John listen to him—a boy with no memory who’d quickly got tagged and bumbled like a fool?
John laughed. “What’s the matter? I found this cute toad and wanted to show it to the delivery girl, is all.” He stuck the terrified creature in Lucy’s face again.
“Let me out of here,” she said calmly.
Xan tried to keep his voice as calm as hers. “Let her go.” Maybe someone at Hardonbury had taught him it was best to speak with reason when standing up to a bully.
John didn’t move.
Just then, the throbbing in Xan’s head flashed with light—maybe a memory: a scarred horseman in black, sneering down at a group of men with shovels and hoes. Then it was gone.
A rush of anger pulsed from his head to his hands. If he’d had a stone in his palm he would have thrown it with all his might. The impulse overwhelmed him; his fists shot up in front.
“Oh, really?” John said, dropping the toad. “So you want to fight then.”
Lucy turned and ran. David stepped aside as she escaped past him toward the trail that led to the convent.
Xan’s head cleared. He stared down at his fists. Why was he so filled with rage? John was a bully, true, but that had nothing to do with him. Except John had picked on an innocent person, and Xan suddenly hated anyone who used power to harm the weak. Maybe he’d seen such injustices at Hardonbury. His parents would know.
Xan dropped his fists to his side.
“That’s what I thought,” John said. Several boys snickered in the background.
John stepped toward him. “Don’t look so grumpy. We weren’t gonna hurt her.”
Xan shook his head and walked from the circle. “Only cowards pick on girls.”
“Is that so?” John said. “Then come teach this coward a lesson.”
Xan didn’t look back. All that mattered was waking up in the morning healthy enough to walk to Hardonbury with Brother Andrew.
Suddenly Brother Leo stormed out of the dormitory with a paddle. Several boys scurried out of his path, but John stood his ground.
“I saw all that from the window, you rascal,” the monk said, grabbing John’s arm and paddling at his backside three times hard. “Scripture says to discipline your body and make it your slave! Only with discipline will you be saved, you unruly child.”
John fell to the grass, his eyes glistening, his face bright red.
The monk pointed the paddle at the group. “Now, go get washed for the evening meal.”
The others scattered around Xan, but Lucy stood on the trail to the convent, her hair dark as night. She was looking this way. Hopefully she’d seen John get punished for what he’d done.
Perhaps he should check to make sure she was all right. He jogged down the path until he reached where she stood. She’d waited for him.
For a moment, all he could do was stare—her eyes were more soft and her face more perfect than anything he’d seen in this new life of his.
She cast her gaze to the ground, and her cheek grew rosy red.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She nodded. “Thank you for helping me. Did that John try to fight you?”
He shrugged. “I’m all right. Brother Leo took the paddle to him, anyway.”
“Good. I’m Lucy, by the way.” Her smile chased all the pain from his head.
“You can call me Xan. I can walk with you to the convent.”
“That would be fine,” she said.
They strode side by side in silence as the stone convent drew near.
What could he say to her? Surely he’d never spoken with a girl as pretty as this one in Hardonbury or anywhere else. If he told her about his memory, she might think him dumb.
“I haven’t seen you at the abbey ere today,” Lucy said.
“I just got here. I . . . I was injured. I’ll probably be going home tomorrow.”
She stopped walking. “Good for you. I’ve been here for months with no end in sight.”
“Did you lose your parents, too?” Maybe she was just like him.
She shook her head. “Father’s left me here ’til his duty is done. He serves the lord of my manor. Last year, the king called our lord to service, and Father had to travel away with him again.”
“Your father knows King Henry? That’s amazing!”
Lucy smiled. “Don’t sound too excited about the king, especially around all these monks here. You know, the king and the Church, they don’t get along well at all.”
“Nay, I didn’t know that.” Or if he had known it, he’d forgotten it like everything else.
“Anyway, Father doesn’t really know the king. He mainly cares for the noblemen’s horses.”
“And doesn’t your mother miss you when you’re gone?” he asked.
“She died when I was a baby.” Her eyes narrowed. “She was taking me to see her family in Sicily. That’s where Father had met her while traveling abroad. She got sick—a plague.”
Lucy had shared so openly with him. She probably wouldn’t judge his flaws too harshly.
“I don’t remember my parents,” he said. “To be honest, I can’t remember much of anything since the injury. I’m going to Hardonbury tomorrow to find them.”
Just then, a woman stepped out the convent door, garbed in a black robe similar to the ones worn by the monks. A habit covered her head but not her youthful face.
“Lucy,” she said, her lips turned down. “You know the rules.” Her voice was gentle but reproving. This must be one of the nuns who cared for the girls.
Lucy’s cheeks flushed red again. “Sorry, Sister Regina. ’Tis a long story.”
What rules had Lucy broken? “Did I get you into trouble?”
She grinned. “We’re not permitted to walk alone with boys, but don’t worry. Sister Regina will understand when I explain it all to her.”
She curtsied politely to him. “’Twas a pleasure to meet you, Xan. I hope you find your family tomorrow.”
He waved as Lucy took Sister Regina’s hand and entered the convent.
Perhaps it would be all right if he got stuck here at Harwood Abbey a few extra days waiting for his parents. There at least would be one friend for him to get to know better.
“Boy!” An outraged voice echoed from the other end of the path. “Get yourself back here this instant or I will take the paddle to you.”
It was Brother Leo. The old monk wasn’t joking, either. Even from this distance the heavy paddle in his hand was visible.
Xan jogged back up the trail. If he were lucky, Brother Leo might forgive him for coming down here to check on Lucy instead of washing for the evening meal.
Whatever his punishment might be, though, it will have been worth it.