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Chapter Two
TUCK
Slowly, I turned back for the abbey, resigned to another miserably quiet night. A lonely night, like so many others behind and so many more ahead of me. I stared glumly at the abbey — from the soaring church tower to the solid block of the dormitory, the refectory, the library…
At least there was that. As a friar, I wouldn’t have to live my life within those four walls. Once I finished my training, I could live in any normal community.
The thought perked me up, and a new idea took root in my mind. Who said it had to be a normal community? What if I could join Robynne Hood’s Merry Men in Sherwood Forest?
The abbot was responsible for assigning me to a certain location, but maybe I could work around that the same way I’d worked around so many unsavory duties in the monastery. Like library duty — day after backbreaking day hunched over a table, copying books word for word. I’d weaseled my way out of that, hadn’t I? All it had taken were a few missed vowels…paragraphs…even chapters here and there. Not to mention the mustaches I’d added to the angels or fair ladies painted around the edges…
Then there’d been the job in the laundry — a metaphor for cleansing my soul, as Father Benjamin had lectured me on. I’d lasted less than three days, thanks to a lot of hot water that shrank the abbot’s underpants down a few sizes. Which only made sense, as I’d told Father Benjamin. As a man of the cloth, the abbot didn’t have much use for the equipment he kept down there anyway.
That had landed me in the kitchen, followed by a job with the herbalist — two laughably easy assignments to get myself booted from — to the brewery, a job I was much more suited to, with a side gig in the garden. Not as bad as I’d imagined, since it took me outdoors. Still, it was a long, long way from the exotic lands and valiant deeds I pined for.
I sighed. Once upon a time, my father had clapped me on the shoulder and said, You’ll know the day you become a man, my boy. You’ll recognize it when the moment arrives.
I snorted. I could live to one hundred in this abbey and never experience a challenge that brought me to that point. I would forever remain a misplaced soul shriveling slowly away.
I clawed at a tree, then continued toward the stables. When a mule brayed, I quickly shifted to human form.
“Shh,” I called, giving Rita a pat. “Good girl.”
She and Rosie were the only females at the abbey. Too bad they were both equines. Both were unwitting accomplices to my nightly forays in lion form since I left my clothes at their end of the stable.
Then I slapped a hand over my mouth. I was supposed to be observing a vow of silence. Did talking to mules count?
It was late — nearly midnight — and though I doubted anyone would spot me, I shushed them a second time. I pulled on my tunic and plain brown robe, then tied my belt, a simple length of rope.
See? Poverty, I could do, easily. Didn’t one out of three count for something?
I ran my hands over my hair, patting it into place. One strand, then another, and another…
Okay, so the feline in me liked to look good. But if it was my lion side, it didn’t really qualify as vanity. More like a basic need, like food, water, and air to breathe.
Rita nickered softly, and some of the horses stirred in their stalls — including the pretty white mare across the aisle. A classy new arrival who seemed out of place among all the beasts of burden around her.
Good night, ladies, I mouthed to them all. See you tomorrow.
Rita and Rosie nickered as I flicked my hood over my straw-colored hair and stole across the lawn. I paused under the arched entrance of the monastery, then slipped inside. I was halfway up the long staircase to the dormitory when it hit me. I’d forgotten to do one thing.
I backtracked down the stairs, happy for a little excitement, as minor as it was.
Tuck, please, you have to help me. Cyril, one of the other novices, had begged me earlier that evening.
I tiptoed down the hallway and out into the arched colonnade of the cloister, keeping to the deepest shadows. A fountain bubbled in the center of the garden, the only sound in the abbey at that late hour.
I need you to sneak into the library, Cyril had continued.
Easy, my lion hummed.
I hurried from one column to the next, paused, then hurried on. Each was chiseled with a different motif: a saint here, a shield there, and even a few mythical creatures…or not so mythical, like the dragon wrapped around the next column.
Dragons, my lion sniffed. So high and mighty, and such attitudes.
Moving silently, I pushed open a heavy door and entered the chapter house. Normally a place for meetings, it was eerily quiet at this late hour. I headed for the stairs in the right corner, leading to the second level.
If I hadn’t been on a secret mission, I would have taken the broad, straight stairs at the other end of the building. But this back staircase was a better option for a man sneaking around like a burglar. I kept my head cocked as I wound around and around the spiral staircase, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for trouble.
