Page 20 of Peregrine's Call
She was terrible at holy thoughts. She kept wondering about Octavian, and thinking about Cecily and Alric being either frantic or furious with her, and angry that the seneschal thought Octavian might not be trustworthy simply because he looked different.
The first time Robin had seen Octavian, she’d been surprised. She hadn’t seen that many people in her short life, and so it had been a revelation to learn that someone could have skin as dark as Octavian’s. But she’d been equally struck by how very much he’d seemed an ideal knight. Beginning that day, Robin admired Octavian the way she admired heroes in tales.
Whereas the seneschal looked at Octavian and made him prove he wasn’t a devil.
Idiot.
She looked up at the church altar and tried to look suitably prayerful. There were tales of saints who prayed alone in the wilderness for years. She could hardly make it through an hour before she wanted to take the church walls apart stone by stone. When would he come to fetch her?
She heard the soft squeak of the door, and then footfalls down the center aisle. She shifted slightly, assuming what she hoped looked like an attitude of prayerful calm. She couldn’t peek to see who had come in, and anyone who lived here had a reason to enter the church.
Someone slid onto the bench behind her.
“Robin,” Octavian said softly, leaning forward to be heard. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving, and you know it!” She plucked her hood back a little and looked to him. “Why exile me to the church?”
“I wanted you in a safe place, with the fewest eyes possible.” He handed her a few items, all bundled up in a linen cloth. “Bread, sausages, and cheese. I’ve got some ale in a jug here as well. Eat, and then we’ll go to the dormitorium. It’s not private, but I claimed the two pallets in the corner. It should be safe enough.”
Robin nodded absently. She was already too engaged in eating to care about sleeping arrangements. The seasoned sausages disappeared first, and then she tore into the bread. It was a hearty, dark, grainy loaf, and she relished each bite.
“Drink.” Tav lifted the small jug toward her.
Robin took a sip of the ale to wash down the food, then started to devour the cheese.
“You were hungry,” he said. “If I’d known, I could have brought more.”
“If you’d let me talk, I could have told you,” she whispered.
“Your vow of silence is what keeps this masquerade together. But I will bring more food next time. I’m sorry I thought this was enough, but you’re so little.”
She finished the last bites of cheese. “Riding all day makes anyone hungry, no matter how big or small.”
“So I see. You’ll be all right?” he asked then. “Sleeping in the dormitorium?”
“Naturally. I’ve slept with men many times.”
Tav’s raised eyebrow made her blush. “Amongmen, I mean. Growing up in Rainald’s camp, I was just another boy—till the past couple years, I suppose. Then they insisted I stay with Sara in the women’s cottage.”
“Good.” From his tone, it sounded as though Octavian thought she ought to be locked in a tower.
“You had a whole story ready for the guards and the host,” she noted. “I never would have guessed you’d be a good liar.”
He smiled a little. “I’ve learned that it’s not always prudent to tell the truth. I’ll ask forgiveness for all my deceptions—after this business is concluded.”
“Do you have to do that often?” she asked. “Prove yourself?”
Tav hesitated before saying, “More than I’d like. Especially in the countryside. In London, or the port cities, it’s not so common.”
“It must be annoying.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t have to add the obvious point that if he returned home, he wouldn’t have to deal with the ignorance. Robin bit her lip, thinking that it was only a matter of time until he did leave. Why would he want to stay in a backwater when he could easily travel home to the center of the world?
* * * *
After leaving the following morning, they continued on the road north.
