The Fickle Winds of Autumn
2. Pikelets for Breakfast

Kira walked along the dim unlit corridor away from the refectory and allowed the convent walls to play with her fingertips; their rough, cold stones smoothed down with the use of centuries.

The sweet, warming smell of breakfast still lingered tantalisingly in the cloistered air and mingled with the incense of morning worship.

She bumped and brushed past the bodies of her classmates, who had already begun to line up in the gloom of the passageway, forming a neat impatient row in their best uniforms and lilac cloaks.

“You’re going the wrong way!” grumbled Sara.

“As usual!” added Meg.

“We’ve been waiting ages for you!”

“Do hurry up! Why do you always have to spoil it for everyone else?” complained Hettie.

Kira felt the pull of conflicting desires. She was keen to do as she was bid - to put on her cloak and join the queue; to line up and file out through the Western Doors; to finally have the chance to breathe the natural air outside the walls; to escape the stuffy conventions of the Nunnery, with its rules and regulations; its strict time-keeping, ordered by the unfeeling bells; to end the drudgery of a lifetime of the subdued, unending corridors; the restricting, candle-lit rooms and alcoves. Her pulse quickened at the prospect of being able to see and smell and taste the outer-world for herself at long last.

And this was her chance; the opportunity she was desperate to seize.

She had heard of the glories of the daylight - but had never been allowed to look upon it; for hers was not to gaze upon the varied wonders of the Great Surrounder, but to worship the harmonies and purity of the silvered Moon.

What would the day-sky really be like? What was the truth behind its unending blueness?

Perhaps there would be houses and trees and people? Who really knew what sounds and sights lay beyond the convent walls?

To finally have a chance to see the outside world - if only for a few hours or days! This had been her fondest dream for as far back as she could think. And if this also brought with it the added bonus of missing a few lessons, then so much the better!

Her classmates had spoken of nothing else for the last week, and the buzz of excited anticipation filled the narrow corridor.

Kira’s skin had tingled to goosebumps when she first heard the news, and she thrilled at the prospect of joining them soon: but for now, the urgency of another matter occupied her mind, and the slight warm bulge of the sweet breakfast pikelet hidden deep in her robe pocket, pushed Kira onward as she continued to jostle her way along the corridor against the flow of her restive classmates.

She had almost made it past the ire of the other girls when, at the far end of the line, two of them began to squabble about their cloaks. Kira turned her head to better hear the commotion, but kept walking forward, and in the dark of the narrow corridor, her bustling progress was suddenly halted by the staunch, immobile figure of a large rotund body.

The frozen blood sank and drained from Kira’s heart.

Her panicked senses told her instantly that she had collided with the solid imposing form of Sister Amelia Constance.

She gasped at her clumsy mistake and shuddered to her core in fearful anticipation of the vehement scolding that was sure to follow. Her nervous fingers felt for the contraband food in her pocket; she was certain the austere nun would detect it.

“Kira! Why aren’t you lining up with the others? I knew you’d be trouble! Worthless little good-for-nothing!” began the gracious Sister.

“We’re only allowing you to go out because the other girls are too ill to travel - not that you deserve or appreciate such a rare privilege!”

Kira’s heart thumped hard in her chest as she tried to casually move her hand to cover the lump in her robe; the hidden pikelet shrank and wilted in queasy sympathy with her situation.

She was sure to be punished if she was caught. To be punished was one thing, but to risk the wrath of Sister Amelia Constance was quite another. And the journey out of the convent - would they even let her go? After all these years of pining for some sort of freedom from the dismal confines of the cloistered walls; all her dreams and hopes of escape; her one chance to finally see the sky and breathe the air of the outer-world, was now certainly doomed.

“One simple job to do and you can’t even manage that properly! Or on time! Typical!” continued the good Sister.

The gloom of the corridor, or the earliness of the hour, did not shield Kira from the full glare of the Sister’s fierce scowl.

Perhaps the heavy palpitation of her heart would betray her? Or the prickling blood rising and burning in her cheeks? Or the sweet, happy smell of the pikelet drifting up from her pocket, which no amount of ceremonial incense could ever hope to cover? Surely the gimlet sharp eyes of the nun would root out the illicit food she was smuggling in her clothing?

Some of the younger girls even claimed that Sister Amelia could see straight through the stone of the nunnery walls; what chance did she have against that?

A sharp, burning anxiety welled up from her stomach.

She was bound to be caught and then she would be for it - weeks of punishment on end. And extra chores. And maths-lessons. Oh, how she hated maths-lessons! What even was the point of them?

Perhaps it would be best to confess now and get it over with? Perhaps they would be lenient with her if she acknowledge her faults? If she repented and showed a purity of heart?

She hesitated, then looked up at the imposing outline of the solidly built Prima Sister. Somehow her faceless silhouette, looming large and shapeless, in the sinister dark of the corridor, while she barked out the withering barrage of her rebuke, made her all the more terrifying.

The Sister paused for a brief intake of breath, ready to continue her chastening flow with renewed venom.

Kira recognised her opportunity and opened her drying mouth; her heart leaped into her pounding ears as she attempted to stutter an embarrassed apology.

The squabbling commotion, down at the far end of the queue, erupted once more.

The Sister jerked her head in its direction, her furious attention drawn towards this new disruption.

“What in the Surrounder’s good Grace are you bickering about?”

She launched herself past Kira and barged her way down the passageway to investigate.

“Woe betide the pair of you when I get there!”

Kira hardly dared believe her luck. Her heart still thudded with pent up adrenaline; but not wanting to waste her chance, she tip-toed away in breathless silence, determined to continue her journey.

She knew she was already late for the queue; and that she had nearly been caught: but, with the Prima’s stern warnings still ringing deep in her glowing ears, Kira also knew she had an appointment that she needed to keep.