The River Maid. Dilly Court

       Chapter Seven

      The journey along the coast to the monastery was undertaken on sure-footed donkeys with Falco at the head of the small procession, followed by Raven and Lady Alice, who was still in a sulk and refusing to speak to anyone. Her argument with Raven had resounded throughout the inn. Essie had been able to make out the odd word, but it was obvious that her ladyship was not happy.

      ‘What’s happening?’ Sadie asked, drawing her donkey alongside Essie’s as the path widened. ‘Why is everyone so cross?’

      ‘It’s probably the heat,’ Essie said vaguely.

      ‘But the captain said he was taking us to Australia. It’s on the other side of the world, where convicts go. That can’t be right.’

      ‘Yes, he did, but Lady Alice wants to return to London, and I’m sure she’ll make alternative arrangements for us as well as for herself.’

      ‘I want to go home,’ Sadie whispered. ‘It’s too hot here and I don’t like the food. I miss London.’

      ‘I suppose I do, too. Although it is beautiful here and the sea is such a wonderful colour, and the air is fresh and clean, but London is home.’

      ‘Stop chatting and keep up, or you’ll get left behind.’ Raven turned in the saddle, beckoning to them. ‘That goes for you, too, Alice. And you can take that look off your face. We’re not school children now, and you can’t expect to have everything your way.’

      Lady Alice responded by urging her sturdy little animal to a trot so that she passed Raven and was second in line to Falco. She glanced over her shoulder. ‘The same to you, Raven. If you think you can ride roughshod over me, you’re very much mistaken.’

      Essie and Sadie exchanged knowing looks and encouraged their donkeys to walk on a little faster.

      It was midday and the sun blazed down from a clear sky that was so blue it hurt Essie’s eyes to look into its azure depths. There was not a cloud in sight and silence was broken only by the sound of the donkeys’ hoofs on the hard-baked ground, and the gentle swish of the waves on the shore. The tussocky grass was burned brown in places, but clumps of pink and white rockrose and blue bellflowers had managed to survive, adding welcome bursts of colour to the sun-bleached landscape. It was hard going on the rough terrain, even riding animals that were used to such conditions, but the sight of the monastery perched high on the cliff top, gleaming golden white in the sunshine, was more than welcome. The donkeys seemed to realise that rest and shade were near and they raised their heads and quickened their pace.

      As they drew nearer Essie was confused to see that half the building appeared to have collapsed into the sea, but a plume of white smoke rose high into the sky, confirming that what remained of the monastery was inhabited. An olive grove straddled the hillside and trees studded with bright yellow lemons softened the harshness of the landscape. As they neared the high stone walls there were goats tethered by the roadside, munching on anything within their reach, and hens scratched in the reddish brown soil of the open courtyard.