The next morning, the boys slept late. They’d stayed up most of the night to help fight the fires, until each threat had been fully doused. Half the fishpond had been emptied in the process.
Then Brother Oscar had escorted them back to the dorm—the first day of his turn watching the boys.
In those final hours, Xan had learned that Father Paul had survived his fight with Rummy, though he was in the infirmary recovering from his wounds. As for the abbot, when he’d returned from compline—the monks’ evening prayers—the elderly man had fallen asleep in the tiny chapel tucked away in the monks’ dorm. Had he come out during the attack, Carlo would have hurt him.
Xan awoke before the other boys and found Brother Andrew exiting the main abbey church, where the monks had just finished terce, their mid-morning prayers.
“I am glad to see you,” the monk said, his brown and blue eyes now set within dark rings of sleeplessness. “I want to tell you how brave and hard-working you were last night.”
“Thank you, Brother.” Except this wasn’t the time for rewards. Last night, he hadn’t the chance to do anything except put out fires. He still must tell the monk what he’d seen and heard.
“May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.” He led them to a stone bench nearby, where Xan began his story.
As soon as he mentioned Carlo’s purpose to harm the abbot, Brother Andrew interrupted. “No more, Xan. These are serious words you speak. You must tell them to the abbot.”
The monk took him to the chapter house, with its sharply pointed roof. Voices spoke urgently within. Brother Andrew knocked on the door and then entered with Xan.
Inside, the abbot was meeting with the prior and Brother Leo around a wide, wooden table surrounded by thick chairs. “We must ask Lord Godfrey for help,” Brother Leo was urging.
As soon as the monks saw Xan, they stopped talking and gawked at him. Maybe they didn’t want to discuss abbey business in front of a peasant boy, but surely they’d make an exception for him this one time. He’d taken action last night; he’d seen and heard important things.
“I am sorry to interrupt, Abbot,” Brother Andrew said, “but this boy has urgent news.”
They sat Xan at the table and listened to his account of events and of his memories. Their eyes widened as he spoke. By the time he’d finished, their demeanor had changed toward him.
“What a remarkable boy,” the abbot said. “Surely our Lord has a mighty purpose for you.”
But Brother Leo poked a purply finger in the air. “What this boy says only makes my argument stronger. Last night, those bandits burned our manor house at Penwood, then rode here to harm our abbot. Our nuns and children are at the mercy of these men without Godfrey’s help.”
What terrible news! Had Brother Leo been at Penwood when the bandits had attacked there? He hadn’t been around for the fires at the abbey. Perhaps he’d arrived late from his journey.
“But Leo,” the prior said. “Godfrey will not defend us ’til the abbot admits Godfrey’s claim over Penwood. Have you forgotten how, just last year, Godfrey threatened us with suit in the courts?”
Brother Leo snorted. “I manage Penwood now, and I can tell you the people there are terrified. Father Paul is wounded; our abbot is threatened. Cursed times call for new decisions.”
Had Xan’s news added to all this trouble? Maybe he should have kept it to himself.
The prior pulled at the graying beard on his chin. “Nay, Leo. If we give Penwood Manor to Godfrey, as you suggest, what will he want from us next—Oakwood Manor? The abbey itself?”
“Enough!” The abbot raised a hefty hand. “King Henry has fought against our Church for far too long. He wants power to control our bishops, priests, and everyone else. I will not turn over our dear Penwood Manor to one of the King’s men, no matter how noble Lord Godfrey might be.”
The abbot glanced in Xan’s direction. The monk must hate that this kind of disagreement would be aired in front of a peasant boy. Yet Brother Leo hadn’t finished being grumpy.
“Not everyone agrees with you, Abbot,” he said, raising his voice. “Last night—”
The abbot slammed his hand to the table. “Not another word, Brother Leo, or your discipline shall be severe! If you are concerned for this abbey’s safety, I suggest you meditate on the Psalms: ’tis the Lord who is our Shepherd and Protector, not Lord Godfrey.”
The room grew awkwardly quiet. Brother Leo bowed his head, though his face was red and sweaty and his eyebrows stood on edge.
Xan’s parents and so many others had been killed by the bandits. These men were so evil they had even desecrated the holy bread in the church. Brother Leo might be right about needing help from Lord Godfrey. Last night, most of the monks had hidden from the danger. If the bandits came again, who would protect the boys and the nuns, and Lucy?
God might be able to do anything, but all the praying of the monks hadn’t stopped the bandits from coming. If Carlo wanted to kill the abbot, what would stop him from returning?
“Are there other matters to discuss?” the abbot said.
Silence.
“Good,” he said. “There is much to clean after last night’s disaster. Let us get to it.”
Xan reported back to the boys’ dormitory. As the abbot had said, the abbey was a complete shambles. That meant Brother Oscar would be assigning lots of extra work for the boys.
Their new dorm-keeper shared many unfortunate traits with Brother Leo, including a love of yelling. Though not as old as Leo, Brother Oscar had graying hair that also refused to cooperate. A clumpy ball of hair stuck up on one side of his head, so that his ringed tonsure looked pregnant.
The monk gathered the boys on the grass outside the dorm and assigned them chores. He told Xan to pick up every scrap of debris and ash that had floated over from the fires at the main abbey to anywhere in the meadow, from the fountain to the convent path.
After the monk withdrew inside, Joshua meandered over with a frown. “Why do I always have to sweep the floors?” he whined, scratching at his red hair, still black with ash.
Before Xan could answer, John approached in a huff, his fingernails caked with grime. “Well, I bet you think you’re someone important now, don’t you, Sire Clumsy?”
Of all days, why would that bully start trouble today? John must realize the miserable week he’d had: learning about his family, being trapped at this abbey, surviving the bandits’ attack.
“What are you talking about?” Xan said, as the other boys gathered around.
“I saw you last night and this morning, all friendly with the monks.” John rolled his eyes. “Now that you’re stuck here, you want to be the monks’ little pet, eh? Hoping for better chores and bigger helpings at breakfast, probably.”
Could it be possible that John was jealous of him, even after all his troubles? John’s family had probably died in that plague last year. Perhaps he was as miserable as Xan. Or worse.
“John, just leave me alone and do your work. I’m in no mood for this.” He turned to leave.
John grabbed Xan’s shoulders from behind and threw him to the ground.
“Don’t tell me what to do, clumsy,” John said, towering over him.
Xan stumbled to his feet as the boys circled round: “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
Joshua—eyes filled with alarm—ran into the dormitory.
Xan stood his ground. Rummy’s evil face filled his mind—sneering down at Father, staring at Father Paul with hateful red eyes. That feeling of rage returned. He lifted his fists.
John pounced, knocking him to the ground, punching at his side. All he could do was protect his face from the blows. Finally he rolled out and sprang up—lip bleeding, side aching.
John would attack again; it was as certain as wheat growing in the granges each season.
Sure enough, the bully threw another wild fist in the air. This time Xan was ready.
As John swung, Xan tripped up the bully’s legs. John’s fist flailed through the air; his legs collapsed under him; his backside crashed to the ground, followed by his shoulders and head. He looked so awkward falling to the grass that a few of the boys even laughed aloud.
A deep voice suddenly boomed from the window above: “Stop, or I will put the paddle to you both!”—Brother Oscar. Joshua must have told him about the fight.
John stared up and then put his fists down. Maybe he was remembering that paddling from Brother Leo the other day. One public paddling might have been enough for him.
“We’ll finish this later,” he promised as he stomped off, followed by a couple of the boys.
Xan licked the bitter blood from his lips.
The others had scattered in fear to do their chores. He might as well get to work too.
He started at the fountain and picked his way across the meadow, putting all the debris in a large wooden crate. At least he’d have time to think without bullies or angry monks around.
Lucy had told him to find a purpose, and Brother Andrew had offered to teach him his letters, just like the novice boys. That’s what the monk wanted, no doubt—for Xan to become a novice one day. Then he’d take the vow of stability and be at the abbey forever.
Learning to read and write would be interesting, but would it be a purpose? The faces of Mother and Father were growing clearer each day. Mother’s eyes were as gentle as Lucy’s, but she never did much of anything in his visions except look at him. Yet even her gaze made him want to cry for some reason. Other memories might come soon, even harder to deal with.
Nay, being lettered might be a good goal, but it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t explain why he’d lost his family or why the monks were being threatened. It wouldn’t even discredit those frightening stories of the Shadow that John liked to tell.
By the time Xan had worked his way to the convent path, the midday sun sparkled overhead. Maybe the girls were down there cleaning the convent yard from the bandits’ attack.
He looked at the hand Lucy had held last night. It still felt warm. Why not go see her?
He wandered along the trail, checking behind him for Brother Oscar. Several of the younger girls were outside playing with dolls made from old rags. They watched him go by.
He arrived at the convent door. He knocked. What would he say? The nuns might get mad at him for trying to meet with Lucy. Maybe he could pretend to be lost—nay, that would be dotie.
The door opened. Sister Regina stood there, surprised. “Xan, what are you doing here?”
“Good day, Sister.”
She noticed his fresh scrapes and bruises. “Oh, my. Have you been fighting?”
“I’m fine. I was just checking to see if everything was all right here after last night.”
“The Lord protected us,” the nun said, smiling as if she knew Xan’s real reason for coming.
She glanced over her shoulder as another nun passed by. “Lucy told me about you tripping that bandit. I wish I could invite you in to check on her, but the rules do not allow it.” Then she lowered her voice. “Take the cobbled path and go around back. We will meet you there.”
He followed her direction and took the path to an empty, tidy garden without flowers or people. It likely would bloom in a burst of colors in the springtime.
He sat on a stone wall and waited.
“Hello again,” Lucy said, stepping out the back door with Sister Regina. She was dressed as always in a flowing white tunic, cinched at her waist by a slim brown belt.
“Sister says you’ve been fighting.” She came and sat next to him while the nun crossed to the far side of the garden and picked dead leaves from a tall plant.
They spoke for a while about the situation with John. Then he told her about Brother Andrew’s offer to teach him to read and write.
“That’s exactly what you need, Xan. You’ll start feeling better ere you know it.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. Especially not after last night.” He told her about all he’d seen of Carlo and Rummy, and about the monks’ angry meeting this morning.
“How dreadful,” she said. “Why would anyone want to hurt the abbot?”
“I don’t know.”
It was a mystery. The same bandits who had killed his family and destroyed his home were now terrorizing the good monks at this abbey. None of it made sense.
That’s it!
The idea came in a flash. How could he not have thought of it before?
“Lucy, I think I might know why God sent me to this abbey, and what I need to do now.”
Her eyes grew wide with anticipation. “You do?”
He stood. “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to solve the mystery of these bandits. And when I do, I’ll finally understand why all this has happened to me and my family.”