Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me

by Lana Williams

  Thomas had always thought him better suited for his former life as a knight. His tall form, broad shoulders, and brawny body spoke of vigor that would serve him well on the jousting lists. Why he’d given up a life of winning tournaments and moved to one devoted to God remained a mystery.

  When he’d first met Clarke, Thomas had thought the abbot had hidden himself away in the abbey to hide from people. The wine-colored birthmark that covered all of one eye and most of his cheek would’ve made Thomas hide himself to avoid the stares and ridicule that surely accompanied it.

  Much to Thomas’s bewilderment, the mark didn’t seem to bother Abbot Clarke. The calm and pleasant expression on his face suggested an inner peace that Thomas did not understand. In truth, it made him uncomfortable.

  “What is it you want?” he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

  “I came to speak with you regarding the offerings for the poor.” His glance caught on the documents on Thomas’s desk.

  Confident the abbot could not discern the purpose of the letter Father Daniel had been transcribing, Thomas leaned back in his chair, his fingers rubbing the ornate carving of a roaring lion on the arm. “The offering we gave was more than sufficient.”

  “Many are still in need,” Clarke argued.

  “The harvest was plentiful. Those in need should’ve worked harder to earn their share of it.”

  “Not everyone is able-bodied enough to do so. The knot of beggars outside both the abbey and the church grows each day.”

  “Pah.” Thomas waved a hand in dismissal. “Giving too much only encourages them to work less. They become dependent upon our handouts.”

  “I realize you are directing the income you receive to your renovations on the cathedral,

  but—”

  “The expansion of the cathedral will benefit all.”

  “But mostly you,” Clarke argued, the knowing look in his eye making Thomas shift in his chair.

  “A larger cathedral will draw more revenues, and we will reach more people.” Thomas shook his head. They had already had similar discussions, and he well knew Clarke would never see his side of the issue. Still, his plans would proceed more smoothly if the abbot agreed with his desire to expand the cathedral.

  He used the one argument he knew would appeal to Clarke. “Think of how many we can help.”

  Clarke tilted his head to the side, studying Thomas as though finding him odd. Thomas did not appreciate it.

  “How can we care for additional souls if we can’t help those in need now? More isn’t the answer,” Clarke argued.

  But ‘more’ was what Thomas wanted.

  More prestige. More power. More wealth.

  More of everything.

  He knew his greed was a sin, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that others would benefit as well. Most of his life, he’d lived without. He remembered what it was like to go to sleep at night with hunger burning in his belly, with shivers from the cold rattling his teeth. Being of noble birth did not guarantee well being. His father had squandered their meager wealth and lands and his childhood had consisted of cycles of feast and famine with the feasts being few and far between.

  Those painful memories drove him. He pitied any who had suffered as he, but also realized he was a better man for having survived it. Others could do the same, and they would become stronger for it as well.

  After all these years of hard work and humbling himself, he’d found the key to his future. How ironic that it—or rather she—had been under his nose all along.

  He pushed away his anger at the years he’d wasted. If he’d known earlier, life might have been easier. But in truth, now was the perfect time for Cristiana to join him.

  She should arrive on the morrow at the latest. Just the thought of the possibilities her gift would bring him brought a smile to his lips and lightened his mood.

  Glory would be his at last. Waiting for it this long would make it taste even sweeter.

  “Is that new?” Abbot Clark asked, pointing to the heavy gold ring on Thomas’s finger. It bore a crosier, a pastoral staff symbol, with a ruby in the center.

  “Aye,” Thomas said. “A pity my previous one has not been found.”

  “Rather disturbing to think you might have a thief under your roof, isn’t it?”

  “The thief appears to have been someone passing through,” Thomas said with a scowl. He had his suspicions of who had taken his ring, but it no longer mattered. That loose end had been taken care of; she would bother him no more.

  Besides, he thought as he studied the deep red jewel, he liked this one better than his last.

  “What a relief.” Clarke’s bland expression made it difficult to tell if sarcasm colored his tone.

  Thomas debated telling him about Cristiana and her unique talent. Nay, he decided. He wanted to test her and the extent of her ability before he shared it with anyone. He’d let Abbot Clarke witness Cristiana’s skills for himself. Then at last, the abbot and everyone else would realize how brilliant he was for bringing her to Longsbury under his guardianship.

  Knowing what the coming days and weeks would bring, he could afford to be generous.

  “I will see to it that the handouts are increased.”

  The surprise on the abbot’s face gave Thomas a bit of pleasure. He didn’t want to become too predictable by denying every request with which the abbot came to him.

  “Thank you, Thomas. We will do our part at the abbey as well.”

  “I’m certain you will. Now I’m afraid I must return to my correspondence. I’m dictating a rather important letter.” He was inviting the archbishop to visit Longsbury and view the construction himself. By the time he arrived, his plan for Cristiana would be well under way.

  “Of course. My apologies for the interruption.” Though the words were said with sincerity, there was something in the abbot’s smile that belied the apology. “Shall I send Father Daniel back in?”

  “Aye.” Never mind, Thomas decided. Soon, there would be nothing but respect and admiration in the abbot’s face. That would be a welcome sight indeed.

  ***

  “I still don’t understand how that could be possible.” Henry shook his head, his voice low as he rode beside William.

  “Nor I, though I’ve heard of such things from my mother. She too is a healer, but not like Cristiana.” William looked back at the lady in question. Shadows marked her eyes, and her usual determination seemed to have dimmed. Healing him had taken a toll on her.

  “I’m surprised she appears so normal. She should carry some sort of mark upon her forehead or something to warn others.”

  William glanced at Henry, shocked at his comment. Was that what he thought of his brother? Nicholas hid his second sight when he could, and William was certain Cristiana did the same.

  “I only jest, William,” Henry said. “You should know me better than that.”

  With a scowl, he thought of his own reaction when he’d realized what she’d done. Suspicion had come quickly. Too quickly. He of all people should better understand her and her gift. Had watching Nicholas deal with his second sight all these years taught him nothing?

  “How do you feel now?” Henry asked.

  “Much improved.” He straightened, easing back his shoulders. “In truth, my shoulder feels even better than this morn.”

  “I for one am thankful to her for your recovery. That damned injury seemed to be worsening instead of improving.”

  “It was. Much worse. A fever struck last night. I fear you would’ve had to leave me behind if Cristiana hadn’t healed me.”

  “She looks worn out this morn.”

  “It seems that using her gift makes her tired. We may need to shorten our day so she can rest,” William advised him. Now at last he understood what the abbess had told him. The lady was special indeed.

  His memory of the previous night was unclear. Perhaps the fever had addled his brain as Cristiana had said, but he was certain they’d kissed. And
it had been no ordinary kiss. In all honesty, he wanted a chance to repeat the experience.

  He frowned as he realized that was a terrible idea. If he gained empathy for the lady, he would want to aid her. And if he aided her, he would be breaking his word to the bishop. All in all, that would be most unwise.

  “She’s certainly beautiful.” Henry’s quiet words echoed William’s thoughts.

  “I suppose.” William kept his tone noncommittal, knowing his friend would latch on to the slightest nuance and he’d spend the rest of this journey denying an attraction to her.

  Henry’s brows rose in disbelief. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”

  “Let’s just say I think it ill-advised to get involved. We will part ways in a few days.”

  “All the more reason to enjoy her company while you can,” Henry suggested with a smile. “How often do you get to spend time with a lady such as she?”

  Temptation filled William but he held his silence.

  “Did you not recently learn how short life is?” Henry asked.

  “Indeed. Life gives us unexpected turns.” He’d had more than his fair share.

  “All I am saying is that you should enjoy the moment.”

  With a smile, William looked at his friend. “Your advice is wise but in this case, her relationship with the bishop changes everything.”

  “No wonder the bishop wants her. It almost makes me feel sorry for her.”

  “Being with the bishop might give her protection. He should be better able to understand her gift than anyone,” William argued.

  “William, I think you let the color of the man’s robes cloud your thinking. Next time we see him, look at him as a man and nothing more. Then see whether the lady is better off with him.”

  “You are jaded. You’ve lost your faith in the good people can do.”

  “We shall see, William. We shall see.”

  Before William could say more, Sister Mawde rode between them. “We must rest for a spell. Lady Cristiana is weary.”

  “There’s a meadow with a small stream ahead. We’ll stop there for a time,” William advised her.

  He thought it more likely that the nun was the one who wanted to stop. Again. At this rate, they’d be lucky to make Longsbury in a fortnight. He glanced back at Cristiana and immediately felt guilty. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes were downcast.

  All because of him.

  Why had she sacrificed so much to heal him? He was virtually a stranger to her. Yet she had done the same thing for that little girl at the fair. Her actions befuddled him, but he hesitated to delve too deeply into finding out more. The lady already drew him far too much. He had to maintain his distance if he wanted to keep his word to the bishop.

  They soon arrived at the clearing, and William dismounted so he could aid Cristiana.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  She nodded, her gaze not meeting his.

  He lifted her down with ease, unable to believe how good his shoulder felt. While still weak from lack of use, the deep nagging pain was gone.

  “Thank you,” he told her as he set her on the ground. He continued to hold her until at last her eyes met his. “You’ve given me a gift beyond measure.”

  She raised a brow. “And?”

  He frowned, confused by her question. Obviously, his simple statement of gratitude wasn’t enough. “I am in your debt. Is there a price I should offer to pay?”

  Her pale face flushed. “Do you think I did it for money? Do you think I find injured people to heal so I can receive payment from them?”

  “Nay. Of course not. I meant no affront.”

  Her anger fled as quickly as it had come. “The only thing I would ask of you is to let me go.”

  “And I would give you all that I could except for that.” He shook his head, reluctant to disappoint her. “I would think having the bishop as your guardian would be perfect for one such as you. Who better to help you than him?”

  Now it was her turn to shake her head. “One such as me?” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I see that I will not change your mind.”

  “As I’ve told you before, I am duty bound to deliver you to him. Perhaps after you meet with him, your feelings will change.”

  With a sigh, she opened her eyes. The sadness in her expression made him sorry he couldn’t comply with her wishes. But he had a mission of his own to complete: finding his place in this world and making certain he was worthy of the second chance God had given him.

  Breaking his word to a bishop would not aid his cause.

  He changed the subject, deciding there was nothing more to be said on that particular topic. “Would you care to rest?”

  “I’d prefer to stretch my legs first.” She moved to step away.

  Reluctant to let her go too far alone, he offered his arm.

  She stared at it then looked up at him. “What? Don’t you trust me?”

  He cocked his head, hoping to lighten her mood. “Is it so difficult to believe that I would like to spend some time in your company?” Never mind that he had just told himself to keep his distance. Something about the lady was irresistible.

  “Aye. That is very difficult to believe.”

  William tipped his head back and laughed. Henry turned from his conversation with Sister Mawde at the sound, making William realize it had been some time since he’d laughed like that. He couldn’t believe how good he felt. That damned injury had smothered his normal enjoyment of life. Now that he had it back, he felt as if he could climb mountains.

  Cristiana smiled, though it seemed reluctantly.

  “Well, it is true.” He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as he smiled down at her. “Beautiful day, is it not?”

  Her continued smile was all the answer he needed. They walked together around the edge of the clearing, stopping here and there to admire a particularly golden leaf or an interesting rock. He found her ability to find beauty in the ordinary refreshing. In the past, he would’ve looked at a leaf and thought it nothing more than a leaf. Yet since the accident, he noticed the way the sunlight filtered through the evergreens, the way a bird cocked its head as it watched them. And somehow, sharing an appreciation of such things with her made them all the more fascinating.

  “Cristiana, you take delight in items most never see,” he told her.

  “I’ve learned that if you don’t stop to admire the little things, the big things no longer matter.”

  He pondered her words, wondering how she’d arrived at such a clever observation. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Oh!” She clutched his arm as a squirrel hopped onto a log nearby. They both stilled, enjoying the moment as the creature flicked its tail at them and then bounded off. “What do you suppose he was thinking?”

  “I hope they don’t hunger for squirrel meat?” William asked with a smile.

  Cristiana shook her head, her smile genuine. Then she stopped and looked up at him. “What happened when you were injured?”

  William looked away as a myriad of emotions chased through him. “I was at a jousting tournament in Poitou, preparing to go on to the lists when I was struck from behind.”

  She frowned. “But the wound was on your shoulder.”

  “Only one of several. That first strike was to my head and knocked me unconscious. The man stole my colors and left me bound and gagged. Sometime later, the villain returned to thrust a lance into my shoulder.”

  Cristiana gasped. “Why?”

  “He had just killed another man on the lists and wanted me to take the blame for it. Apparently the man had been struck in the shoulder, and he wanted me to have the same injury. And, of course, he returned my colors.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I awoke to find an angry lord screaming that I had murdered his son. He hit me on the head as well, and plunked me in a boat to cross the channel. The next thing I remember was freezing in some damp dungeon with my shoulder festering and no recollection of where I
was or how I’d gotten there.”

  “How terrible.”

  William swallowed. It had indeed been terrible. He’d felt so helpless, so damned scared that he was going to die in that tiny cell with no one the wiser. The memory of that helpless feeling still gave him nightmares. “Fortunately for me, the daughter of that old lord decided I was innocent and aided me, even going so far as to haul me in a cart to my brother’s holding.”

  “How brave of her.” Cristiana’s brow creased as she considered the details of accomplishing such a feat.

  “Aye. Very brave. She is a unique lady,” he added, thinking of Elizabeth with love and gratitude. “Once she arrived at my brother’s gate, she left me there as she didn’t want to be caught and have her father implicated.”

  He waved away Cristiana’s look of astonishment.

  “She hid in the trees until she made sure I was found. But my brother didn’t know that. So after he saw me settled and did all he could for me, including having the priest give me last rites—”

  “Nay!” She took his hand, smoothing hers back and forth over it. He wondered if she realized what she was doing.

  “Three times I’m told,” William said with a smile he didn’t feel. “I nearly didn’t make it. My brother couldn’t stand watching me lay there anymore, so he left to seek revenge.”

  “But how did he know who the culprit was?”

  William held silent for a long moment, wondering if he should explain his brother’s gift. On the one hand, it wasn’t his secret to tell. On the other hand, perhaps Cristiana would appreciate that she was not alone. There were other unique people in the world.

  “Nicholas has second sight.”

  Her lips parted and her hand stopped caressing his. “Visions?”

  William nodded. “’Tis something he’s struggled with his entire life.”

  Cristiana dropped his hand and turned away. “Being...different is a challenge. Of that there is no doubt.”

  “And you, Cristiana?” He stepped around so he could face her again. “How has your gift changed you?”