Maresi Read online

  That morning we finally got fresh bread again. Sister Ers and her novices had celebrated Havva’s festival the day before, and now the oven was cleaned and blessed and we could bake again. After several moons of nothing but porridge it was a feast to sink my teeth into salty bread warm from the oven. I grinned at Ennike, my mouth full of bread, and she laughed.

  “No one loves spring bread quite as much as you, Maresi!”

  “Yup, and there is only one thing I love more than spring bread.” We looked at each other, giggled and shouted, “Nadum bread!” in one voice.

  It is easy to laugh with Ennike. It is one of the things I like about her.

  Jai sat and picked at her food. She had eaten some bread but left the pickled onion and smoked fish. I pointed at her plate.

  “Just wait until summer! Then we get a cooked egg with the bread and a thick wedge of goat’s cheese. And once the Spring Star has gone back into slumber, we get honey!”

  “You should see Maresi at autumn breakfasts,” said Ennike. “They bake nutty, seedy nadum bread in the kitchen and Maresi waits outside the Hearth House door before anyone else, sniffing like a hungry dog! We get cheese and bright-red nirnberry sauce in autumn too.”

  “They make the sauce with mint and honey. Sister Ers always says it is good enough to offer to the First Mother herself.” I licked my lips at the thought.

  Ennike looked curiously at Jai. “What kind of food did you get back home?”

  Jai closed up like a mussel, hunched inward with a far-off look in her eyes. I shook my head at Ennike and quickly changed the subject to distract Jai from Ennike’s question.

  “If it were not for autumn breakfasts I do not think I could put up with the never-ending winter porridge,” I said. “Porridge, porridge, porridge, day in day out. You know what I dream about all winter long?”

  Jai did not answer but Ennike smiled and nodded. “Moon Dance! After the dance we have a huge feast up in the Moon Yard.”

  “Then we get koan egg in spicy sauce. The koan bird is the symbol of our Abbey and we only eat its egg after Moon Dance. Sister Ers serves it with delicious crispy meat pies and sesame biscuits sprinkled with cinnamon.” I had to swallow. The thought of all that tasty food was making my mouth water. Ennike took a sip from her cup.

  “And we get to drink something other than just water. Strong mead and sweetened wine!”

  “The steps down to Novice House feel very long when your belly is full of food!”

  We laughed. Ennike and I, that is, not Jai, but she seemed to have opened up a little. I was pleased that I could help her relax. I got up from the table.

  “Come on. It is lesson time.”

  We offered the last of our bread to the Hearth, walked down Dawn Steps, across the central courtyard, and up Eve Steps to Knowledge House. Knowledge House is the oldest structure on the island. Sister O taught us that it was the first and probably the most important building that the First Sisters built after they sailed here in the ship Naondel.

  It is my job to stand by the cracked wooden door to the junior novices’ classroom, making sure they all sit still until the sister arrives to take their lesson. Jai followed Ennike to our classroom while I ushered in the late girls, the last of whom is always Heo. That morning I found her sitting under the lemon tree out in the Knowledge Yard, stroking a gray Abbey cat that lay on its side purring. As I approached she looked up at me, and it occurred to me that her slanting eyes always look as if they are laughing.

  “Can’t I take him with me to class, Maresi?”

  “You know you can’t. Hurry up, Heo. Sister Nummel is coming soon and you do not want a scolding, now do you?”

  “You get plenty of scoldings,” said Heo as she stood up and put her little hand in mine. “I want to be like you.”

  I kissed her white headscarf. “Choose my good points and not my bad.”

  Hand in hand we hurried to the junior novice classroom and Heo just managed to sit down before Sister Nummel came sailing in, rotund and cheerful. She would never give Heo a scolding, and Heo knows that well enough.

  Once the junior novices’ class had started I ran to my own. I am the only one who is allowed to come late to the lesson. The door to the senior novices’ classroom is made of old, cracked wood, similar to the junior novices’ door but darker. I always close it very carefully behind me, afraid that if I slammed it the cracks would give way and the whole door would collapse.

  I slipped into my spot on the worn wooden bench where we all sit along a large table. Sister O conducts the class from the front of the room. Only the oldest novices who are soon to become sisters do not come to lessons. They learn about their duties instead.

  I love our lessons. We get to learn about history; mathematics; the First Mother; how the world works; about the moon, sun, and stars, and much more besides. The junior novices have to learn to read and write, if they cannot already, and lots of other things.

  That day we were continuing our study of the history of the island.

  “Do you remember how the First Sisters came here?” asked Sister O. I stood up at once, and she gave me a nod.

  “Maresi?”

  “The First Sisters decided to flee from a land where a wicked man had taken all the power and treated his people very badly,” I answered. I had just read about it in a book in the treasure chamber. “He would not let anybody else have knowledge. The First Sisters refused to be his slaves so they stole as much knowledge as they could and sailed here in the ship Naondel.”

  Sister O nodded. “Their voyage was long and arduous. They came from the land far East, so far away that we no longer remember its name. Nobody has come to the Abbey from the Eastern lands since the First Sisters. It was a miracle that the boat did not smash on the rocks when a great storm heaved Naondel onto our island. Instead, the place where the ship landed marked the spot where the First Sisters were to build Knowledge House.”

  Ennike got up. “But how is that possible, Sister O?” She pointed out of the window. “Knowledge House is so high up the mountain. Not even the strongest autumn storms could throw a ship all the way up here.”

  Sister O nodded. “Indeed. But so it is written in the oldest texts. Perhaps the storms were worse then. Or perhaps the text should be interpreted in a different way.”

  I saw that Jai was listening intently. She sat leaning forward, her eyes transfixed on Sister O.

  “Knowledge House conceals all the power the First Sisters brought with them,” I recited from memory. “Sister O, why do they talk about power and not knowledge?”

  “Because knowledge is power,” said Dori.

  Dori is Sister Mareane’s novice and helps out with the animals. She is a few years older than me, but so absentminded and dreamy that she often seems younger. Dori is of the bird folk, and when she came to the island she brought one of their sacred birds with her. It is as big as a dove, with red and blue feathers, but the blue ones change color according to the light: sometimes green, sometimes black, sometimes golden. It usually sits on her shoulder, pecking and pulling at her black hair and jutting ears. It does not have a name, only Bird, and it seems to understand Dori when she speaks to it.

  Sister O smiled at Dori and it was one of those rare moments when a smile softens her thin lips and dark eyes. “That is right, Dori. Knowledge is power. That is why it is so important that novices come here and take the knowledge back out into the world once we have taught them all we can, especially Sister Nar’s novices, because they can share their knowledge of herbs and medicines all over the world.”

  “But other knowledge is important too,” I interjected. I wanted to impress Sister O with how much I knew, even though I am younger than Dori. “Arithmetic and astronomy and history and . . . and . . .”

  I could not come up with anything else.

  “Cleanliness,” Joem filled in. “Farming. How to feed many on little. To help prevent starvation.”

  “Animal care!” said Dori enthusiastically.

&nb
sp; “Architecture,” added Ennike. “How to build bridges, calculate durability, erect large buildings.”

  I was disappointed. I had wanted to come up with all of that myself.

  “That is absolutely right,” said Sister O seriously. “Any knowledge you can bring back to your homelands is important.”

  “But surely it is important that some novices stay here? To keep the knowledge alive and pass it on to the new novices?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Sister O. She looked at me with a solemn expression. “But our Abbey must not be used as an excuse to hide away from the world.”

  I did not entirely understand what she meant, but asked no more questions. All I knew was that on the island, with its warm sun, cool wind, and fragrant hillsides, amongst goats and bees and sisters and novices, I was home.

  During the break Ennike and I went to our favorite place under the lemon tree. Jai came with us. We ate our bread, drank cold spring water, and gazed over the wall out to the silvery-blue sea, which shone so brightly it hurt our eyes. The air was filled with the sharp, sweet fragrance of the herbs and flowers Sister Nar grows in Knowledge Garden. Birds hovered on the breeze above us, sometimes alone, sometimes in flocks of gleaming white wings. A black cat with gray paws sat on the low garden wall grooming itself. Ennike leaned back against the trunk of the lemon tree and stretched her legs.

  “I hope I get called to a house or a sister soon. I cannot take Sister O’s lessons anymore.”

  “But they are fascinating! We learn something new every day!” I gaped at her and she smiled.

  “You can soak up knowledge like a sponge for days on end, Maresi. But I need to start doing something. Just think, if Mother called me as a servant to the Moon! That would be such an honor.”

  “You are the oldest novice on the island without a house. Of course she will choose you.” I lay on my back and looked up at the tree’s foliage. Small white flowers shone here and there amongst the dark leaves. The black cat jumped down from the wall and strutted toward us. Jai stretched out a cautious hand, and the cat rubbed its head against it and started to purr. Then suddenly Jai tensed up. I sat up and followed her gaze.

  A little white boat with a blue sail was making its way into the harbor below.

  “A fishing boat,” I said softly, “coming to sell its catch. Look, there is Sister Veerk and her novice Luan. They handle trade. Now they are going out on the pier, see? They will fill their baskets with fresh fish and then pay with copper coins or beeswax candles or maybe some healing ointment prepared by Sister Nar. She is the one who takes care of us when we are sick. She knows everything about healing and herbs. The fishermen usually tell us what they need so Sister Veerk can have it ready next time they come.”

  Jai still could not relax, so Ennike and I exchanged glances and got up.

  “Lessons start again soon. Come on.”

  Jai soon got used to the Abbey’s ways. I only had to show her something once and she remembered it. She took her dishes to the scullery when she had finished eating, she offered her bread to Havva, she took her clothes to Body’s Spring for washing and she read the texts Sister O gave her every evening. She learned the movements of the sun greeting and the songs of thanks and praise within a few days. In the evenings she would come with me straight to Knowledge House and sit reading until sundown. She did not leave my side. The sisters noticed and did not separate us when they shared out duties, so Jai came with me to herd the goats up the mountain, harvest mussels on the beach, make the year’s first batch of cheese, fetch water from the well, sweep the courtyards, and clean Novice House.

  It soon became clear that Jai had not done much physical labor before. She was weak and could only carry half a bucket of water, but she never complained. She hardly ever spoke at all.

  She had intense dreams at night and often woke me up with her anxious tossing and turning. I heard her mumble things I could not quite make out. She kept repeating one name: Unai. I did not know if that was a woman’s or a man’s name, but it must have been somebody very important because Jai dreamt about Unai every night. Lots of us sleep in the same dormitory, and I was not the only one who heard Jai’s dreams.

  Over the next few weeks spring came in full bloom. It started getting warmer and the sisters began talking about Moon Dance and all the other rituals of spring. Soon the mountains were draped in white and blue spring flowers and the air was alive with the hum of flies and bees. Dori strolled around singing along with the birds. She can mimic any bird perfectly.

  One evening, half a moon after Jai’s arrival, we were sitting together in our dormitory getting ready for bed. The older girls brushed the younger girls’ hair, and I helped Ennike untangle her curls, which are always windswept and knotted by the end of the day.

  She was sitting with her head back and her eyes shut. “My sister used to do this when I was little,” she murmured. “I do not remember much about her other than the feel of her hands in my hair.”

  Heo sat by my feet and played with a kitten with fur as black as her own hair. The cat pounced on her fingers with its sharp teeth and claws, but Heo did not mind getting scratched.

  “I don’t have any sisters,” she said. “Do you, Maresi?”

  I nodded, brushing Ennike’s hair until it shone. “One brother and two sisters. One of my sisters is older than me and my brother is your age, Heo. My big sister Náraes never had time to brush my hair. She helped our mother with the farm and I took care of the little ones.” I swallowed. It was still difficult for me to talk about Anner. “My youngest sister—”

  Jai was mending a hole in her trousers with a needle and thread. As I braced myself to carry on talking I saw that her sewing had fallen onto her lap and her cheeks had gone as white as the snow up on White Lady’s peak. Just then Heo interrupted me.

  “Jai, who is Unai? I have heard you say the name at night.”

  “Heo!” I said sharply, and she looked up at me with her big brown eyes, taken aback by my tone. At the same moment Jai let out a high-pitched, whimpering cry. It was a terrible sound. She raised her hands and smacked herself in the face, over and over again until I leapt forward and grabbed hold of her hands. But I could not stop her wailing. I turned to Ennike without letting go.

  “Get Sister Nummel!”

  Ennike rushed out of the room as the other novices moved out of the way. Heo had curled up into a little ball between the beds and was silent. Before long Sister Nummel came rushing in and together we led Jai to Sister Nummel’s bed. Jai did not protest, but we had to hold her hands to stop her trying to slap or scratch at herself. Ennike ran to fetch Sister Nar, who swiftly turned up with a tincture she made Jai drink. It afforded her a little calm and soon she lay subdued on Sister Nummel’s bed.

  The sisters shooed me and Ennike away, and we had a hard time trying to get the agitated junior novices into bed. When the dorms were finally quiet, Ennike and I went out to get a breath of fresh air and calm down.

  The indigo sky, dotted with stars, arched over the central courtyard. Everything was quiet but for the sea’s gentle hush beyond the wall. Ennike took a deep breath.

  “She has gone through even worse things than I have. I was often beaten by my father and grandfather, but she has had worse than beatings.”

  I tried to understand what it would be like to be hit by your own father. I thought about my skinny little papa, who gave up his own portions to us children in that never-ending winter. I thought about how he had gathered together all the stories he could about the Abbey, where it was and how to get there. How he wept when he realized that living in the Abbey would be the best thing for me. How he would not let go of my hand as I sat in the cart that was to take me away from our home, from our village, from our land, to the far-off southern coast.

  “She does not know how to feel safe.” As I said it I knew it was true. “We will have to teach her how.”

  We are mostly self-sufficient at the Abbey. We harvest mussels, birds’ eggs, berries and fruits from
mountain and sea. We have goats for milk and cheese and meat, and we grow vegetables in one of the valleys between the Abbey and the Solitary Temple. There are also some olive trees and vineyards by the Solitary Temple, and we get honey from Sister Mareane’s beehives.

  But we do have to buy grains, fish, salt, and spices, as well as fabric for clothes and incense for our censers. All these things require silver, but the Abbey has more than enough of that, thanks to the bloodsnail.

  The bloodsnail is the only way to dye fabric truly crimson. You can get plenty of different reddish shades with various plants, but none of them give the same deep, brilliant red color as the bloodsnail. I think the color is beautiful, of course, but it still amazes me how sought after it is in all the known lands and how high a price it commands. Bloodsnail red dyes the garments of kings and fabrics of the rich. Only those with a heavy purse can afford the color. The bloodsnail is what gave the Red Abbey its name, or so I thought, but when I said so to Sister O she replied that there were probably several reasons. It is also about the sacred lifeblood and things I did not entirely understand yet.

  When Mother was a girl, bloodsnail red did not fetch the same price as it does today. At that time bloodsnails were harvested in different places, including many of the islands of Valleria, and even as far west as the land of Longhorn. I heard that the Vallerian folk produced their dye by gathering the snails in large barrels and leaving them to rot in the sun. The stench filled the Vallerian archipelago for several weeks every summer. In the end the bloodsnails were wiped out completely. There were none left.