Chapter 62
Ste. Genevieve
After the morning services and breakfast, Alisaunne had once more found herself at loose ends. She had no set task or routine here. She was a visitor with nothing to occupy her time. At Sacre Coeur she would have had classes or kitchen duties or even her friends to visit with. Here... when the children were in class... she had no one. Sister Luke had suggested that she might enjoy some gardening. Not wishing to be disagreeable, the girl had agreed.
At least out here in the sun and fresh air she could listen to Ursa and watch for when the children got out of class. Once again she had asked about joining the class, but even Ian had suggested she find other activities.
As before, Alisaunne had the strange impression that those children were more in charge around this place than the nuns were. Indeed, other than Sister Luke, the other nuns appeared to just be at everyone's beck and call. They seemed to do the mundane activities about the convent... keeping everything in order... but did not seem to have any control over the children themselves.
Everything here was definitely puzzling.
Alisaunne had come across Denara yesterday, reading... not a child's picture book... but some old text in Greek... she was certain it was Greek.
"Isn't that a little hard for you?" she'd asked the little girl.
Denara had looked up from her reading and clutched her stuffed rabbit tightly. "I was born Greek. I learned to read it before I came here," she had lisped in her little girl's lisp. Denara had said nothing unusual... perhaps she was some sort of genius... but Alisaunne was beginning to think that there was far more going on here than she thought.
No contact with the outside world... that is no radio, no television, no telephone, she supposed she could understand... but the people here did not even seem to belong in the modern world. Whenever Alisaunne had mentioned current events or pop culture... her comments had been met, for the most part, by stares that held no comprehension of her words.
Had no one here been off the grounds in years?
She weeded the flower gardens and raked the dead leaves from the paths, concentrating on the physical labor to occupy her. Once finished, she carefully returned the implements and wandered back into the main house.
Always one to enjoy reading, she'd gone into the small library and began to examine the tomes on the shelves. Most were very old... many in Latin or Greek... a few in other languages she could only guess at. Evidently modern fiction... especially romance novels were not in demand here. That did not surprise her... but the lack of many modern texts did.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?"
Alisaunne turned to see one of the nuns regarding her inquisitively.
"Just something to read," she offered lightly and returned to scanning the shelves.
"I fear there is little here that you would find entertaining."
"I noticed that. Why is that?" Alisaunne turned to watch the nun replace a book on the shelf and select another.
The nun smiled. "We have all we need here. We have little need for the outside world."
"But don't you wonder what it's like out there?"
"You are here because you saw someone killed, yes?"
Alisaunne nodded soberly. She had not thought of Monseiur Maillot once today.
"Is that not enough reason to ignore the outside world. Here... we have peace and nature... and all the time we need to contemplate them both."
"I suppose... but... I miss my friends... my world. I could never just remain here."
The woman nodded sadly. "Not everyone can." She'd hugged the volume to her chest and left the library.
Curious, Alisaunne pulled the book the nun had replaced from the shelf. As she thumbed through it, she realized it was some sort of history, but in a language she was not quiet certain of. She put it back and continued to scan through the titles. Seeing one that looked oddly familiar, she pulled it out and thumbed through it. A bound manuscript... not a printed book. The handwriting and sketches looked vaguely familiar. She lightly ran her fingers over the pages wondering what it was about the drawings that fascinated her. She had the feeling she'd seen this once before... but she couldn't recall where.
The sound of the chapel bell indicating that classes had been dismissed made her look up. She shoved the volume back onto the shelf and raced for the garden.
She met Ian and the others as they were exiting their classroom. One of the children was carefully placing a sword within his coat. Alisaunne paused staring at the boy. He offered her a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Fencing practice," he mumbled.
"Fencing? I can fence! My teacher said I was quite good!" Alisaunne's excitement at discovering a common interest bubbled over. "Do you think I could practice with you?" She surprised herself with those words. Just yesterday... the very thought of a sword had reminded her of what she'd seen. Now... a sword was one way she could keep Monsieur Maillot's memory alive. She could be the best fencer possible... dedicating all her matches to his memory.
The boy looked guiltily at Ian who nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe we could fence a bit later today if you wish."
"You fence too, Ian?" Alisaunne regarded the young man with her best smile. She did like him... with his freckles and that shock of white hair, and that lilting accent he had. It always surprised her when he seemed to look at her with so much sadness, and she wondered why that was. After all, surely neither of them had illusions that this was anything more than a flirtation... or was it. When she was with Ian... the world stopped... and she wished that the two of them could go on forever... caught in that single moment of time.
"That and a bit of hand-to-hand," he said slinging an arm about her shoulders and guiding her into the garden. "I could show you later if you wish."
"I wish," Alisaunne said. But she did not specify exactly what it was she was wishing for.
From the refectory doorway, Sister Luke watched the exchange between the two young people and worried. This entire relationship was fraught with peril. She'd likely have to talk to Ian again. He had said he understood... but when he looked at the girl... it was if all the wisdom of his two hundred or so years was lost and he was in fact what he appeared to be... a young man experiencing his first real crush.
"For your sake, I hope your friend returns for you soon," Luke whispered to herself. "He should never have brought you here." She straightened as much as her ninety-six mortal years would let her... and slowly walked back into the building.
