Sir Guy reined his horse back to a walk when the bulk of the western foothills hid the monastery from sight. He opened his visor and yanked off a gauntlet, so he could wipe his brow. "That was hot, heavy work, Lord Wizard."
"Shoulda shtayed aroun' 'n' burned 'em down t' the' groun'," Stegoman slurred.
Matt eyed his mount warily, but he seemed docile enough for the moment. The ride was a bit on the bumpy side, though. "Well, we got out with only a few scratches, and that's what matters, Sir Guy ... We are heading west, aren't we?"
"Aye." The Black Knight grinned. "The dragon did not swerve too badly. We should arrive at Saint Cynestria's convent ere nightfall."
"Good." Matt pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I have a feeling that somehow, without us, they're in heavy trouble."
"Not unless the army besieging them is far more fell than that which we battled last night," Sayeesa said grimly.
"Which it is," Matt replied. "I'll lay you long odds on that one. I have a sneaking suspicion the whole situation is set up to guarantee that we have to be there, to give the Cynestrians a fighting chance. Why else would they attack this particular convent?"
"I think it has to do with our good Sayeesa," Alisande said thoughtfully. "She may have a greater part to play in this war than we ha' known."
"Yeah.. ." Matt chewed at the inside of his cheek. "The priest who heard our confessions in that country church said something of the sort."
"Nay, surely not!" Sayeesa frowned. "I am humble and a sinner! I could not have such great import!"
"Yet still 'twas said," Alisande pointed out. "And if 'tis so, the sorcerer has done all he may to prevent her coming to the convent..."
"Without much luck," Matt added.
"That is to your credit," Alisande admitted. "Yet 'ware false pride, Lord Wizard."
One of these days, Matt decided, Alisande was going to give him a real, full, unqualified compliment-and when she realized she'd done so, she'd probably have a heart attack.
"So," the princess went on, "if he cannot prevent her arrival at the Cynestrians' gate..."
"He can eliminate the gate." Matt's lips tightened. "And the convent with it. Sure. But wouldn't that indicate that Sayeesa, herself, isn't vital? Instead, it's her joining with the convent that's a key event."
"That, I can more readily accept," Sayeesa said. "Yet not fully; for I cannot believe I'd add much power to those iron, holy women!"
"Some change may overcome you there," Alisande said offhandedly, "transforming you to a greater force than we can think."
"I'll not hear more," Sayeesa said flatly, and nudged her pony on ahead.
"But I kinda think she wants to." Matt frowned at the ex-witch's retreating back.
"There may be truth in it," Alisande mused. "Yet it could be no more than their joining; the two could form a most potent combination. For, look you, Lord Wizard - the Cynestrians accept as novices only women who have sinned, and deeply. All within their walls are therefore penitent, laden with remorse - and, as a consequence, staggering in the intensity of their devotion. They fast and pray both night and day with greatest fervor, seeking to atone. 'Tis said they pray with vengeance - on themselves."
"Hmm." Matt pursed closed lips. "They could put out a lot of spiritual power, couldn't they? Come to think of it, they'd have to - what else could have held Malingo's army off all night?"
"If they did succeed in that," Alisande reminded him. "For which, let us pray ... Yet their power is not prayer alone; for there are former bandits in their midst."
"Women?" Matt's eyebrows shot up. "Female bandits? In this kind of society?"
"'Tis our ways and customs formed them," Alisande demurred. "They are women who could not, would not, be subjected to a man's command; and in such a land as ours, there is scant space for such unfeminine women."
Sir Guy nodded. "These Ladies of the Waste could best most men. Nay, I've heard of them. Such a band did gather one short year a small army, they were indeed - bandit-maids and scourers, who did loot and burn throughout these marches. They were, for several months, scourges of the West, lording it over all the borderland."
"This did begin when Astaulf came to power?" Alisande demanded, thin-upped.
Sir Guy nodded. "As the king does, so do the subjects; and Astaulf is a bandit king. Yet when these bandit-maids had grown intolerable, the Mother Superior of the Cynestrians swore they gainsaid Nature, in that God made women to protect and care for others, not to sack and slay them. She vowed that she would bring them to repentance, or die in the attempt. Many of her order sought to join with her, but she'd not have them; the hazard was for her, and her alone. Thus she rode singly out to face the outlaw band. She found them, endured their torments and their insults, then began to speak to them of Christ and Blessed Mary. Thus she showed them the estate that they were born to and had spurned; and by Heaven! not a one of them who heard her could stand against remorse!"
"She brought them out repentant, as she'd said?" Alisande's tone was hushed.
Sir Guy smiled. "Each and every one. They rode back with her to the convent, turning postulant. If the walls of Saint Cynestria yet stand, your Highness, they are why; they are the ones who bore the brunt of fighting."
Somehow, Matt wasn't exactly eager to meet the good sister, sat least, not unless they were sure he was on their side. In the afternoon, he had a chance to mention this to Sir Guy.
"You never shall convince them of it," Sir Guy declared. "They're sure, these bandit-maids, that all that's male conspires against them-save Christ, which is why they're so devoted to Him. Still, if you can bring their Reverend Mother to believe you, her warriors will side with you; for they'll be ruled by her."
"Hmm." Matt chewed that one over. "Well, I'd better be my most persuasive-but I don't think that means charming."
"Indeed not," the Black Knight agreed. "She will see through whatever face you wear to your true one; so, best that be the face you wear."
"Yeah." Matt nodded. "Just my ordinary self."
"Nay. Your true self."
Matt turned slowly. "Whaddaya mean? I am my true self!"
"Then you know that you do hold feelings for our princess that are somewhat more than those of a liegeman for his lady?"
"Now, hold on! I don't know anything of the sort!"
"Then the face you wear lacks truth. Nay, do not speak-I've seen it in you. Admit these feelings, Wizard-at least unto yourself. This game you play must cease."
"Game?" Matt felt anger kindle. "What are you talking about? I'm not playing any game!"
"Are you not? 'Tis even as I've said-you will not acknowledge it, even to yourself. I pray you, do; yearnings hidden may weaken you-and through you, all of us."
Matt felt his emotions still and settle into an icy block. "If you're talking about lust, don't sweat it-I'm not exactly hot for her Highness's body ... Well, not usually." He remembered her dance in the Stone Ring; but that had been an aberration.
Sir Guy turned away, sighing and shaking his head. "Well, I spoke my piece, and hard enough it came. Yet I bid you hearken to my words." He clucked to his horse and rode ahead.
Matt glowered at his back, coals of resentment smoldering in his belly.
The sun was low in the sky, silhouetting a low, sprawling building with a steeple rising up from its midst, perched on a low hill in the middle of a valley - the convent of Saint Cynestria. It looked much like the Moncairean monastery.
Matt wondered about the army that surrounded it. The levies didn't seem to be any more numerous than the host hemming in the Moncaireans; but there were some big holes in the gathering, empty patches of ground with a look of waiting to them, scrupulously avoided by the soldiers. He wondered who-or-what, would be dropping in.