by Jody Hedlund
The abbot finally turned. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.” His serenity only stirred a new longing inside me — a wish to slip the torture apparatus over his head and let him experience a dose of his cruelty.
“I don’t believe you’re sorry, Father Abbot.” My voice quavered with the effort it took to keep myself calm.
“Of course I am.” He lifted the ball and swung the incense above my head. “But don’t worry. I shall keep your nursemaid alive. She’s not valuable to me dead.”
He nodded at the guard who stood next to Trudy. The guard tightened the strap that wrapped around Trudy’s head. The sharp point pressed farther into Trudy’s mouth.
My nursemaid gave a strangled cry.
“No!” I screamed, and swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. “I’ll do anything. Anything. Please just take that off Trudy’s head. Please.”
The abbot smiled. “Ah, yes. That works nicely. I figured it might, especially after evaluating your reaction to the tortures I staged in town recently.”
What did he mean staged?
Seeing my unasked question, the abbot’s smile became more calculated. “I needed to see for myself if you still held an aversion to torture. I knew such knowledge might become useful to me in helping to control you should you develop any willful, disobedient tendencies — as you are now.”
My body shook at the sense of betrayal. “So the sheriff was just obeying your orders?”
“As he should. As you will too.”
“This is my land. I’m the rightful heir and ruler.”
“You are a foolish young girl who knows nothing about ruling.”
His words struck me like a slap across my cheek. “My people love me.” But my declaration came out weak. If the sheriff and abbot felt that I was foolish, how many others did?
“You have emptied your coffers foolishly and would have become a pauper if I’d not stepped in to eliminate the poor in your kingdom.”
“You eliminated the poor?” Again his words hit me, but this time in the heart.
“If you had your way, you would have given every last possession you owned to the wretches. I decided the only way to save you from such foolishness was to get rid of those demanding much of you but giving little in return.”
“Then ’twas you who started the outbreaks of the illness?” My nausea rose up again along with the keen hurt of his betrayal.
“You’ll appreciate the fact that I’ve saved your wealth.” The abbot didn’t move, except to continue to slowly swing the ball of incense above me. “There will hopefully be enough now to build the abbey and the cathedral we’ve been planning these many years.”
“That you’ve been planning.”
“In building them, you’ll leave a legacy.”
“And perhaps you’ll gain more power and fame?”
The abbot didn’t respond. But from the gleam in his eyes, I could tell that I’d come close to the truth.
How had I not noticed his ulterior motives before now? He’d hidden them well. Or perhaps when I’d been resigned to life in the convent before knowing about the exception to the Vow, the abbot had no need to hide anything. He’d simply planned to guide me as he always had. In my insecurity, I’d turned to him all too often and made it easy for him to move me like a pawn in a game of chess.
But with the real possibility of me getting married, had he realized he’d lose the ability to control me? Had he been the one to undermine the contest, to try to murder the knights?
I lowered my head for fear he would see the revulsion roiling through every corner of my body. I wanted to ask how he’d done everything. Perhaps he and the sheriff had been working together. But what difference would it make now to know any more? I knew enough. I knew the man I’d always adored and trusted was not the man I’d believed him to be.
Anger swelled in my chest. I wanted to stand up and lash out at the abbot. But one look at the blood dribbling down Trudy’s chin and I knew I could do nothing. At least at that moment. I couldn’t risk bringing any more pain to my dear nursemaid. And clearly the guards were loyal to the abbot.
The abbot began to pray, in Latin, the opening lines of the ceremony that would irrevocably turn me into a nun. Once I spoke the vows, I would be bound to life in the convent. There would be nothing anyone could do to change my future, even if they wanted to.
Mingling with my anger at the abbot, my heart cried out with the pain of everything I was losing, the beauty of life and love. And Derrick.
I let my head dip lower, the weight of the sorrow and horror of all that was happening pressing down and threatening to flatten me. In some ways it was a funeral. Since it was now well past midday, I had no doubt the abbot had carried out his threat to have Derrick put to death. The merest thought about how much he’d suffered made me want to weep.
“We are gathered here to unite Rosemarie Montfort of Ashby,” the abbot started, “in the solemn occasion of marriage to the God of the universe.”
One of the windows near the back of the church crashed, sending shards of colored glass spraying into the nave.
I stiffened and turned in time to see a man jump through the opening. He rolled to the floor amidst the glass, and then sprang to his feet. When he straightened, I gasped.
It was Derrick, and he was still very much alive. Relief hit so swiftly that I gasped out a half cry. His hair was windswept and his chest heaved as if he’d run the distance from the castle to the convent.
Derrick’s steel eyes swept around the church and came to rest on me for an instant. His gaze raked over me as though surveying my safety before he strode to the center aisle, holding his halberd with both hands, with his knight’s sword holstered on one side and his dagger on the other. He spread his feet wide, and his eyes blazed with fury. The convent guards started to slowly approach him, their swords unsheathed and gleaming in the bright light that streamed from the open window.
I counted the number of guards advancing upon him. Eleven.
A new fear seized my heart. How could he possibly fight against eleven well-trained and armed soldiers?
A movement by my side and another drawn sword raised the count to twelve. The soldier that had been guarding Trudy was joining the ranks of those circling around Derrick.
He would soon be trapped in the middle of twelve soldiers.
I wanted to scream my protest. But how could I? What good would it do now?
As one of the guards lunged at Derrick, he rapidly beat him away with the axe head and then fended off another blow with the sharp spear-like tip of his weapon.
My breath caught in my chest and I turned away, unable to watch him fall to his death.
At that moment, my gaze landed on Trudy, whose agonized eyes begged for release from her pain.
One look at the abbot told me he was distracted by the skirmish. If I hoped to free Trudy, now was my chance. I couldn’t delay.
Before the abbot tried to stop me, I stood and made my way to my nursemaid. Even though my hands were bound, my fingers were still free. With the grunts and cries of the battle taking place behind me, I resisted the temptation to crumple to my knees and cry out in dismay at the sight of the contraption on Trudy’s face.
Instead, I found the leather strap and latch at the back of Trudy’s head that held the torture instrument in place. With shaking fingers, I fumbled for it. At the barest movement, Trudy gave a guttural, animal-like cry of pain.
“Our Father who art in heaven,” I whispered while swallowing screams of my own. I wanted to back away, to hide, to pretend this was all just another nightmare. I wasn’t sure that I could face my fears so fully.
A roar sounding much like Derrick’s voice came from the battle, jarring me and reminding me that he was facing twelve armed guards. He’d come to rescue me. If he could defy death itself and fight so valiantly, surely I could stand strong too.
Trudy’s entire body shook, and I moved faster.
“You’ll be fine in just a moment,”
I crooned, fighting back tears. “You’ll be fine, my sweet, sweet Trudy.” My fingers tangled with the latch as I desperately tried to loosen it.
In one last agonizing moment, the contraption slipped free and the metal fell away from Trudy’s mouth. It crashed to the floor with a clang. With my bound hands, I caught her against my body and eased her to the floor. She buried her face into my chest, her body heaving with sobs.
Another cry rose above the clanking of swords.
I peered to the circle that had crowded ever closer to Derrick. From the bodies sprawled on the floor near him, he’d apparently already taken down four soldiers. But that left eight.
He wielded his halberd and spun with a deftness and sureness that showed him as the superior knight he was. I could imagine that this was how he fought on the battlefield, how he’d earned a distinction as one of the three noblest knights in all the realm.
He fought off one blow while ducking to avoid another. But how could he carry on indefinitely? He already had a bloody patch on his leg. Just at that moment, the tip of a sword grazed his arm, and in an instant a crimson spot seeped into his tunic.
“Stop!” I called, but my throat was too constricted with anxiety and my words came out breathlessly. Derrick lunged with the halberd’s hook, grappling and felling one more.
Even so, the circle around him grew tighter. The guards advancing on him moved in for the kill, until he was completely helpless with seven remaining swords pressed against his body and ready to plunge.
“Drop your weapons,” the abbot called to Derrick.
Through the danger of the sword tips digging into his skin, Derrick’s gaze sought mine. Across the distance, the blaze in his eyes consumed me, went deep into my soul, and reassured me that he’d done this for me.
He loved me. I could see the message shining there.
“I love you too.” I mouthed the words, praying that if he couldn’t read my lips, he would see into my heart and know the truth of my undying affection for him. I would never love anyone else again.
As if my words had traveled the distance and entered his heart, he gave a renewed cry, ducked beneath the circle of swords, and chopped at the legs of the guards surrounding him with the halberd’s axe head, causing them to fall back.
My heart surged with fresh hope, but it was immediately doused as the abbot’s boney fingers circled around my neck and dragged me forward. His grip was hard and unyielding.
Trudy fell away, crumpling to a heap on the floor, her eyes dull with pain, her mouth a bloody, swollen mass.
“Drop your weapons this instant,” the abbot called, “or I shall start slicing the face of her ladyship, one slice for every slash you make at my guards.”
The icy steel of a knife pressed against my throat.
Immediately, Derrick pulled himself back. “Don’t harm her.” His voice was laced with panic.
“I like how this works,” the abbot said, thrusting the knife all too close to my skin so that it pricked painfully. “In fact, I think I’m going to like my new position of power very much.”
“So you freely admit you’ve been undermining Lady Rosemarie’s efforts to find true love. That you’re the one who sabotaged my companions.”
The abbot chuckled. “Of course I thought she was falling in love with them first and hoped to scare them away. But then once I realized she liked you the most, it was all too easy to pin the blame for the crimes on you and make you look like the jealous friend.”
After all I’d already learned about the abbot, the news didn’t surprise me. Nevertheless, it stabbed me. “Father Abbot, how could you —”
The tightening pressure of the blade silenced me. “I only did it for your protection, your ladyship.”
“Her protection?” Derrick called. “And I suppose you think you’re protecting her now?”
“She’s taking her vows very willingly, aren’t you, your ladyship?” The abbot tossed a glance to Trudy and the tongue slicer lying on the floor near her.
Derrick followed his gaze, and at the sight of my tortured nursemaid, his eyes glittered as sharp as double-edged swords.
“Drop your weapons.” The abbot repositioned the knife so that it finally nicked my skin. I couldn’t keep a cry from slipping out, more from fright than pain.
Derrick’s face turned pale and somber. He released his halberd, and the shatter of steel against stone ricocheted through the nave all the way to the arched ceiling, reverberating deep within my heart.
It was the sound of good-bye.
He unsheathed his dagger and sword and let them fall as well. And when he met my gaze this time, I knew he was saying farewell.
He was giving up his life to save mine.
Chapter
24
“No!” My scream pierced the air.
I wouldn’t let him make that kind of sacrifice. But even as my scream rent the nave, a trumpet blast swallowed the sound and was followed by splintering wood.
In an instant, the church door caved in and the afternoon sunshine poured into the room. A knight ducked low upon his horse and charged through the gap, his longsword aimed and ready to thrust.
I didn’t need to see the emblem on his horse blanket to know the knight was Sir Bennet. I only needed to see the deftness with which he sliced and stabbed his weapon as his steed crashed through the group of guards, his sword slashing them down.
While the guards were fending off Sir Bennet, Derrick swooped to retrieve his halberd. In one motion, he grabbed the weapon and swung it against the heels of the closest guard, sending him to the ground with a cry. Derrick spun and chopped into the swinging arm of a guard ready to stab Sir Bennet.
Sir Bennet repaid the deed by plunging into a guard who came roaring toward Derrick. Within minutes, the two knights had injured or felled the rest of the guards. When they were finally unopposed, Derrick grinned up at Sir Bennet, whose horse snorted and stamped sideways.
Another crash came from the church entrance, and two more warhorses barged into the nave — the duke and Sir Collin, who were both winded but wielding weapons and prepared for battle.
“Thanks for finally showing up,” Derrick said wryly.
“You know us. We like to make things as exciting as possible whenever we can.” The voice hinted at humor and belonged to Sir Collin.
“A few key bridges on the return trip had been destroyed by the abbot in an effort to keep us from returning.” The refined statement came from Sir Bennet.
“Bennet was right about not needing to free you from the dungeon,” Sir Collin said with a laugh. “I should have known you’d make your own way out of prison when the need arose.”
The duke remained silent. He sat regally upon his horse. I could see through the eye slit in his helmet he was taking in the scene of battle in one sweep. When his gaze came on me, he stopped and stiffened.
I’d been watching the whole fight without moving. I’d hardly dared to breathe, much less speak, with the blade still pressed against my throat. Throughout the melee before us, I had waited for the abbot to strike, to punish me for the knights’ actions, but the knife had not moved. I had a terrible feeling he was saving his wrath until Derrick’s full attention was focused on me once more.
“Let Lady Rosemarie go,” the duke called. “We’ve found evidence that proves you were behind the murder attempts you blamed on Sir Derrick, and have arrested the marksman you hired to shoot Sir Collin. We also have in custody a soldier who works for the neighboring Lord Witherton, who claims you paid him to kill and cut out the sheriff’s heart.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the abbot said, taking a step back but keeping the knife against my throat. “I’ve got her ladyship now. And nothing you do will make me hand her over. There are only hours left until she’s mine anyway. You might as well admit defeat when you’re faced with it.”
“We also found the liquid you had the sheriff pour into the ale that was distributed among the poor, a poisoned liquid that was ca
using everyone who drank it to fall ill. We located the man who sold it to you and have him in custody as well.”
“It’s my word against theirs,” the abbot said.
Although my hope had been rising with each new piece of evidence against the abbot, it quickly came crashing down. The abbot would only need to perpetuate lies. All he had to do was tell my people that the duke wanted control over me and was making up the charges to keep me from fulfilling my sacred duty to the Ancient Vow. Who would dare oppose the abbot, at least without fearing for their lives?
Fresh hopelessness seeped into my chest.
The duke exchanged a pointed glance with Derrick.
“If you don’t turn around, ride out of here,” the abbot said, his voice ringing with the victory that was surely his, “and leave Ashby for good, I’ll begin cutting her up.”
Derrick shifted, and his jaw clenched with barely restrained anger.
“If you hand her over willingly,” the duke replied, “we may spare your life.”
The abbot’s thin fingers dug into me. Who was this man? Had he ever cared for me at all? Or had he guided me out of the selfishness of his heart for the control he’d hoped to gain over my lands when I was finally locked away in the convent?
“I haven’t gone to all the trouble to counsel her ladyship only to have you come in here at the last minute and steal all that’s rightly mine and to take away my dreams of building a holy empire.”
Now that the whole truth was out, my shoulders sagged with his betrayal. “I thought you loved me.” My voice quavered but I didn’t care. “I thought you truly wanted what was best for me, but this has only been about what you can gain, hasn’t it?”
“And I do want what’s best for your soul, my child.” His voice gentled near my ear. “But at this point you’re too enamored with the knights. You’ve become a simpering fool of a girl. And you’ve forced me to resort to this violence.”
“Hand her over.” The duke’s voice boomed through the church. “This is your last chance.”
