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.Escapingsteam filled the room with the aroma of seafood, onions, and familiar spices.Pierrette's mouth watered, and her stomach moaned.The abbess laughed."Sit down.We'll feed the lion inside you before wetalk." The stew that she ladled from the pot contained whole mouthsful ofredfish, chewylangouste , and mullet."Haven't you eaten boiled fish before,child?" she joked seeing how Pierrette hurried each bite from bowl to mouth.Pierrette paused long enough to acknowledge that she had but never sodeliciously spiced, and of such delicate flavor."This is Sister Marthe's recipe," said the abbess."She is Massaliote, of thetwentieth generation, and claims her secret is as old.She doesn't know I'vediscovered her trick." She paused.Pierrette, whose mouth was again full,raised a dutifully curious eyebrow."When the broth has simmered well, shethrows pine knots on the fire, and it boils over.The others mock her`forgetfulness.' The spilling soup quenches the flames, and only then does sheremove the pot from the fire.Can you figure it out?"Pierrette, swallowing, pondered.Was the question more than it seemed? Shedid not hasten to answer it.She envisioned the cooking process, the look ofthe simmering broth, and."Of course!" she exclaimed."When it boilsover, the floating fat washes away, leaving the broth clear, not heavy withoils.""I wasn't mistaken," the abbess said softly."You don't accept the firstexplanation to come to mind, thus scratching an itch without ridding yourselfof the flea.Let's sit on those pillows.It's time for other questions."All too soon they were settled.When her questioner asked how Marie'scondition had come about, Pierrette said only that the Burgundian knight hadclaimed the first night with her, and it had driven her mad.Yet the tale lacked meat, like a weak soup.As the abbess tasted it, she wasaware that something was missing."Rape is not a treasured memory," she saidreflectively."Yet it seldom drives us mad." She spoke with confidentauthority.This place, Pierrette realized, was more and less than a religiousinstitution.The sisters were not all drawn here by abounding Faith alone.Some were novices whose eyes shone with holy zeal, but children's voicesechoed in the courtyard.Their mothers were refugees, driven to holy vows lessby conviction than necessity.But were they less sincere, for that?The abbess was still speaking."Rape destroys innocence and trust, andsometimes drives us to seek God, but doesn't drive us so far from the worldthat we can't return.No, child.There is much you haven't said.If we are toguide your sister back to this world, you must risk telling me.""I'm afraid, Lady," Pierrette murmured, eyes downcast."I'm afraid of theclubs thegens of this city wield." She then told of her mother's death and ofthe small witcheries that led to it.Gently, the woman with the trusted face and voice of Ma pulled apart thetangled skein of Pierrette's memory, until almost all was told.Yet Pierrettehad not once mentioned Anselm, her studies or the fire spell that now gavePage 100ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcool, colorless light."Much remains unsaid," the abbess concluded, when Pierrette had told what shesaw during the All-Saints mass, and described the visions beside the pool ofMa.Recounting the transformation of Jerome, she trembled, and the abbessgathered her close.Now she huddled in the woman's skirts, as coarse and brownas the beech leaves that rustled dryly beneath her beside the quiet pool."Some say `Marie' derives from `Marius,'" the abbess said."I am called`Sophia Maria.' Yet there's more to my name and your sister's than remembranceof a Roman general who fought a battle a day's march from here.Tell me whatyou know of words and names, child.No angrygens will hear."Pierrette spoke.The names Maria, Marie, Mary, and Marius all sprang from onename: Ma.She hesitated to claim that Christian prayers to Mary were heard bythe spirit who listened by the sacred pool.but Ma was also virginal, amother, and her offspring died and were reborn."I'm not ignorant of the old ways, girl," said the abbess."I sprang from thesame rocky soil, the same clear sunlight, as you.Is it any wonder the threeMarys who brought Jesus' words to this land were welcomed? Who were they butmessengers of a deity we already knew yet with a new message, indeed
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