Chapter 43

Ste. Genevieve

The evening bell for dinner had long since rung. Both nuns and children had gathered for a simple meal of hearty soup and warm crusty bread, and had filled the small refectory during dinner with laughter and jests. To Alisaunne, long familiar with the quiet dignified meals of her own school, the joy in this place was a balm to her heart. All had gathered except the old nun who, for the moment, appeared to be head of this place. She alone did not attend.

Alisaunne could not help but wonder if the old nun's absence had something to do with her. But for the life of her... she could not think of anything that she'd done to create a problem. Except, of course, by having been dumped on the residents here. Still, Alisaunne eyed Ian across the table and smiled, not everyone was acting as if her presence were a burden foisted upon them.

Laughing at some joke Ian had made, although she didn't quite get the point of it, Alisaunne felt herself relaxing into the convent school's routine.

One of the nuns stepped up behind her to whisper in her ear. "Sister Luke needs to see you when you finish eating." Alisaunne nodded, noting the suddenly serious expression in Ian's freckled face. Sometimes the girl felt he was entirely too glum for one so young!

***

Sister Luke sat quietly in her cell tatting. She'd tatted as long as she could remember... since she'd been a girl at the knee of the old woman who'd raised her. Swiftly she worked the shuttle back and forth... making the lacy patterns to adorn the linens. She'd not done much in the last years of her mortal life... she'd suffered from some arthritis and stiffening of her old fingers, and her eyes had begun to fail her. But as a fully healthy immortal... she could once more maneuver the shuttle back and forth between her fingers and see the intricate knots by which the lace grew. It was one of the pleasures of immortality, that she could do this once more.

A soft knock at her door let her know the girl had arrived. "Come in, child," she said evenly... still wondering why it was Marie-France had not yet returned. This worried her... and she feared that if something happened to the older immortal... all here would be looking to her to lead the way. Luke did not think she was the one who needed to be doing the leading. She had noticed the easy friendship and slight flirtation growing between Ian and the girl, Alisaunne. While she would not and could not tell the girl about immortals or about her possible future... Luke had to tell her something to prevent this attachment from growing too strong. Already Ian's eyes followed Alisaunne wherever she was. He was tempted... so Luke would also talk with him. But first the girl.

"You wanted to see me, Sister?" Alisaunne had found some casual clothes to wear. She was dressed no longer in her school uniform... but in some old jeans and a blue chambray shirt that must have belonged to some long forgotten dweller in this place. On her feet were simple canvas tie shoes. She'd tied her long dark hair up in a pony-tail and her scrubbed face no longer betrayed the tear-tracks so evident when she'd first arrived. Her gray eyes glittered in amusement and peace.

"Sit down, child." Luke laid the tatting aside and carefully folded her old hands in her lap. She did not like mortals to see her tat. She was far too swift for the eye to follow. Marie-France had remarked on it once. It was a giveaway of her immortality. So too was her walk, thus she used the cane to slow herself down... to appear more like an old woman than she truly felt.

Alisaunne sat demurely. She had been raised by the nuns at Academie de Sacre' Coeur and knew fair well when one of the sisters had wanted to have a "chat" with her... about her sometimes outrageous behavior. She was always quietly obedient at such times... at least outwardly. Inside she was usually giggling. "Have I done something wrong?" she ventured.

"Not at all." Luke smiled at the child and wondered just how to approach the subject of Ian. Finally she sighed. "You are making friends here?" The girl nodded with a smile that told Luke she was already developing some feelings for the boy. "I have not heard from Monsieur MacLeod but I have no doubt he will return to collect you in a day or two. Until then... be certain you stay on the grounds."

"Of course, Sister. Is there anything else?" The girl was clearly curious, but until Luke spoke with Ian... anything she might say on that subject might well be for naught. Luke dismissed her.

As the door shut behind her, Luke reached once more for her tatting and began weaving the shuttle back and forth in the age-old patterns... patterns even older than she was... likely even older than Marie-France. One by one the delicate traceries of lace grew in her hands. Once more there was a knock at her door.

"Come!" she said, and Ian entered.

"I know why you called for me," the boy began.

Luke continued her tatting. Before other immortals she had no fear of showing her speed... at least not before the ones here. "You should not get too attached to that girl."

"I am aware of that." Ian paced across the room and stood gazing out across the vineyard through her small window. "I am at least ten times that girl's age... To her if I showed the age I am... I'd be an old man... far too old for her."

"Then why persist in this?"

Ian turned to Luke with a smile. "She makes me feel young... as young as I might have felt in my village before I died, when I still had illusions about love and marrying a woman and having a family."

"These things are not possible."

"You who lived a long life before losing it... would you give up one day of it?" Ian's voice was sharp as he asked.

Luke gazed at him sadly and shook her head. Love was something rare and precious... no matter if one was mortal or immortal. To be loved and to return the love of someone was one of the truly great mysteries of life. Sometimes one found it... but many only settled for its form and never knew love at all. Luke had truly loved her husband and had grieved at his death. Even now, there were times she still spoke to him. She also knew that one day, she'd pass beyond this immortal life and she hoped to greet him once more on the other side. "You must not love this girl... you must not be tempted to freeze her into a moment just so you can hold onto her. She must be allowed to find her own destiny."

"I know. I won't do anything... but still," Ian smiled wanly, "for just a few days... it is a lovely fiction."

"Just be careful." Luke returned to her tatting. As the interview was concluded, Ian left.

As he walked slowly down the hall he saw Alisaunne waiting for him. She must have seen him enter although he'd come from another direction. The girl looked at him quizzically as if wondering what they had done to arouse the old nun. Ian smiled at her. He put on his best pleasant face but even as he reached her side, the mask slipped and he gazed at her with a growing knowledge that all his best intentions might be for nothing. Her own expression mirrored his. Ian took her hand and walked out into the night.

"Tell me, Alisaunne de Pres have you heard the stories of the constellations of the heavens?" Ian said with his Welsh lilt, thinking to himself that to sit in the night with this girl in his arms... even if for only a short time... would be the most pleasing thing he could think of to do.

"I have heard the Greek stories," Alisaunne murmured, whispering close to his ear. "Are there others?"

"Aye, lass... there are."

***

Ursa watched the young people from the shadows where he sang once more for the joy of the music. He smiled to himself and chuckled as the two sat on the stone bench and pointed at the heavens and spoke in low whispers and gentle laughs. There were no dangers in this place. There was only a great peace as if the land itself were blessed by gods far older than the ones he knew.

He who had been when the world was young and the only weapons men raised were of stone... had... by his sheer size... survived into a day when size meant little. There was no hate for any in his heart... just the determination to live and to protect those he cared for. The holy man had told him to come here... to use his strength to protect the small ones in the battle that would one day come. Some of those here in this place would be able to assist him... but it would be to him that they would look for protection.

Ursa concentrated on the symmetry of the music... reveling in the gentle tones that lifted his heart and soul to the heavens. He had no wish to kill anyone... but he would... should anyone come here and threaten the small ones.

Ursa lifted his voice once more in song... and the song wafted through the night.