Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me

by Lana Williams

  She sat and smoothed her kirtle, wondering how best to answer. Did she speak of her mother bluntly and see if she could garner a reaction? Or did she explain softly and hope to gain his sympathy? After a moment’s pause, she went with her instinct.

  “My mother was brutally murdered nearly three months past on her way home from visiting a friend.” She watched him closely, trying to determine if he knew anything about it.

  “Oh, dear! That is terrible. Who would do such a thing?” His hands were folded on his desk, his relaxed pose showing no true surprise.

  That might be because Abbess Catherine had already told him the circumstances of her mother’s death. She should’ve asked the abbess exactly what she’d shared with the bishop.

  “From where was she returning?” he asked.

  Hurt filled her though she did her best to hide it. In truth, she didn’t know. Her mother had told her she’d be visiting a friend who lived west of them, but her murder had taken place on the road to the east, the route to Longsbury.

  Why she had traveled in that direction remained a mystery. Branwen hadn’t been able to provide any answers.

  Cristiana refused to admit her mother hadn’t told her the truth. Nor would she tell the bishop of her frequent trips or secretive behavior.

  “She was visiting a friend in a nearby town,” she said at last.

  “What town?”

  Cristiana looked in surprise at the bishop. His questions seemed inappropriate given the circumstances. She was done answering as she had a few questions of her own.

  “Were you acquainted with my mother?”

  “I don’t believe so,” he said as he gingerly eased back in his chair, one hand rubbing the carved lion’s head on the end of the chair arm. “I meet so many that it is difficult to know for certain.”

  “I see.”

  “Abbess Catherine also mentioned your special gift,” Bishop Duval said. His blue eyes lit with interest.

  Anger came quickly. She’d been here only a few moments and rather than offer comfort about her mother’s death, he wanted to discuss her ‘special gift’?

  Nay.

  She might be under the bishop’s protection now, but that didn’t mean she had to comply with his every wish.

  “I am tired from the journey. Perhaps we could speak of it later after I’ve had a chance to rest.” Besides, it was her gift and she would speak of it on her terms. She forced herself to offer a small smile, hoping to hide her anger.

  “Of course, my dear. I will have someone show you to your chamber.”

  “Thank you,” she said, relieved that he was willing to drop the subject so quickly.

  “Perhaps this evening, we can speak further. I am most anxious to learn more about this healing ability of yours.”

  She said nothing. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her he wasn’t willing to let go of the topic after all.

  ***

  William took the sealed parchment from Father Daniel with unease. “What is this?”

  The priest chuckled nervously. “That is all you need to obtain the relic.”

  “What of payment?” Henry asked. “Surely a piece of the True Cross that Jesus is said to have died upon has great value.”

  “Indeed it does. More value than the finest gem. But we are not paying anything for it,” Father Daniel said. He shifted on his feet, refusing to meet their gazes as though uncomfortable with their questions. “I’ve paid you for escorting Lady Cristiana and I’ll pay you again when you return with the relic.”

  “I don’t understand,” William said. “Before we left to bring Lady Cristiana to the bishop, you told us we’d be transporting a chest of gold to be used as payment. That we’d be accompanied by a full escort when we obtained the relic.”

  “Circumstances have changed,” the priest said.

  “And suddenly the church in Madesborough is willing to simply give the relic to Bishop Duval?” William asked. “Why?”

  He well knew that such a relic would be coveted by the church that held it. People would make pilgrimages to see it and be willing to pay to do so, bringing significant revenue to the church. Many people believed viewing an object that had once been touched by Jesus would bring them closer to God and absolve their sins, or even heal them.

  “Let us say the bishop can be quite convincing when he chooses.”

  Frustrated, William shared a look with Henry. He’d intended for his service to the bishop to help fulfill his need to earn his second chance at life. But instead of feeling worthy, an unsavory feeling washed over him. By the frown on his face, William knew his friend felt as he did—something did not feel right about this situation. “Father Daniel—”

  “Must I remind you both that your job is not to question the bishop’s wishes, but to follow his orders?” His face flushed as he looked up at them from his much shorter height. William had always thought he appeared the very image of what a parish priest should be with his balding head, kind smile and positive attitude. But he obviously had a stronger backbone than William had realized. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Of course, Father,” William agreed reluctantly. As the priest said, it was not his place to question the bishop, but he no longer felt comfortable with the mission. “So we are to present this document to the church and they will give us the relic.”

  “Aye. But speak only with Father Matthew. He is the one with whom the arrangement was made. You should also know that they will not be providing the reliquary that normally holds the cross.”

  William frowned in question, but restrained from asking why.

  “It seems the church had an elaborate box made of gold and covered in gems, and they are not willing to part with that under the terms of our...er...agreement.” Father Daniel shrugged.

  Henry scowled and shook his head.

  “As long as all are in concord with the terms, we will do as you ask.” William phrased it as a question but once again, Father Daniel would not meet his gaze.

  “Excellent,” Father Daniel said. “You need only follow my exact instructions to bring back the relic.”

  William held Henry’s gaze. Already he had a foul taste in his mouth for this mission. He could only hope he was wrong.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Kind of you to join us this evening, Sir William,” Bishop Duval said. “I thought preparations for your upcoming journey might’ve prevented you from doing so.”

  “All should be ready for us to leave come first light,” William replied as he watched the entrance of the hall for Cristiana.

  Though tempted to question the bishop as to the terms of the agreement to obtain the relic, he realized that was not his place. Besides, it was unlikely the bishop would explain the circumstances to him. He had to believe Bishop Duval was acting in the best interest of the church and the people of Longsbury.

  The hall bustled with activity as the many people who served the bishop gathered for the evening meal. Long wooden tables and benches had been set up. The aromatic scent of roasted meat wafted through the air, making William’s stomach grumble.

  William had been surprised at the invitation from the bishop to dine with him as he and Henry rarely ate in the bishop’s hall, instead choosing to eat elsewhere when possible. His friend sat at one of the lower tables, leaving William to converse with the bishop, at least until Cristiana arrived.

  “You seem overly friendly with Lady Cristiana. Do you think that behavior appropriate?”

  Ah. Here was the true reason his presence had been requested. William ignored the guilt that swirled through him at the bishop’s words. The man did not know of the kisses he’d shared with Cristiana or of the desire William felt for her. The bishop’s men-at-arms hadn’t seen them. Henry certainly hadn’t told him and if Sister Mawde had known of them, William would’ve received a lecture the moment she’d seen them.

  “We have become friends of a sort during the journey here,” William responded, attempting to push aside his irritation. Assuming
the bishop had received approval for formal guardianship over Cristiana, he would have the same say over her as her father would. Bishop Duval had every right to question him, but that didn’t mean William had to like it. “The lady still grieves for her mother.”

  “So I’ve been informed, but she must cease dwelling upon it. Death is as much a part of life as birth.”

  William frowned, trying to determine what he meant by the callous statement. “The violent way in which her mother died makes it all the more unsettling for her.”

  The bishop waved his hand in dismissal. “Those sorts of events occur each day. As I said, ’tis part of life.”

  Before William could argue the point further, Cristiana entered the hall—and her appearance stole his thoughts.

  A kirtle of deep burgundy with white embroidery set off her blonde hair and alabaster skin. A jeweled belt sat low on her hips with a matching knife in an elegant scabbard. Her hair was braided tightly and covered with a fine veil and circlet.

  William forgot all about the bishop as he rose to greet her. He knew he stared but couldn’t stop. She looked stunning.

  And very uncomfortable.

  Those large brown eyes looked at him with panic in their depths. He walked toward her, hoping they could have a moment alone so he could discover what the problem was. “What is wrong?”

  “My attire is complements of my new guardian.”

  “You look beautiful,” William said as he offered her his arm and drew her toward the bishop. He did not want the bishop to think him too forward by carrying on a private conversation with Cristiana. The man was already suspicious.

  “Thank you, but I would rather not be indebted to him.”

  “He can be a generous man. Enjoy it,” he advised her with a smile.

  “Cristiana, you look lovely,” Bishop Duval said as they drew near. “I’m pleased the gown fit. Is it to your liking?”

  “’Tis beautiful. Thank you,” she said with a forced smile.

  “We will see that you receive others as well.” He gestured for her to sit on his right. “I want you to feel at home here.”

  William returned to his seat on the bishop’s left. Somehow, he needed to find a way to speak to Cristiana in private before he and Henry left in the morn. With the bishop between them, any meaningful conversation would be impossible during the meal.

  Servants brought trenches of roasted venison and baked fish along with frumenty made with boiled wheat, ale, and flavored with cinnamon and currants. Wine flowed freely. Large loaves of bread were placed on the tables as well. The conversation among the occupants of the hall dimmed as people began to eat.

  Father Daniel sat next to William. He said little, leaving William to wonder if he felt ill at ease after their discussion regarding the mission earlier.

  The other priest who often assisted the bishop, Father Markus, sat beside Father Daniel. William did not care for him. He had a cruel bent to his mouth that made William question why he’d chosen the priesthood. The few words he spoke always seemed to be in judgment of others. William was grateful the man hadn’t been seated next to Cristiana.

  “Are the preparations for your journey on the morrow complete?” Father Daniel asked at last.

  “I believe so.” As ready as they were going to be. He still disliked the idea of leaving Cristiana so soon.

  “It will be an honor to have a piece of the True Cross here. It should bring many pilgrims to the cathedral.”

  An image of Cristiana standing near the altar much like a relic as a line of the poor and sick waited outside the church came to William. If Bishop Duval was interested in making the cathedral a place for pilgrims to visit, would he use Cristiana and her gift of healing to attract more people as well? His plans to increase the size of the cathedral seemed overly ambitious. From what William could tell, it would take a lot of money to complete the renovations that the bishop had started.

  He shifted on the padded bench, unsettled at the thought of Cristiana being used. He looked around the bishop and caught a glimpse of her. Her trencher was still full, and she only picked at her food. The evening would’ve been much more enjoyable if he’d sat at her side. “The cathedral collects money when pilgrims visit, do they not?”

  “Aye. The more prestigious the relic, the more people, the more money, you see,” Father Daniel explained. “With more money, the church can aid more people.”

  While not opposed to helping the masses, William did not care for that to be at Cristiana’s expense. Her gift did not allow her to simply touch someone and heal them. She had to use her energy and absorb the illness or injury, after which she needed time to recover. He could only hope her fears of being brought here for her gift would not be realized.

  “Did you see the progress on the addition?” Father Daniel asked as he helped himself to more bread. “Soon the spire on the cathedral will be taller than the abbey.”

  William and Henry had jested about how much it bothered Bishop Duval that the abbey’s spire was taller than the cathedral. Now it appeared the bishop was doing something about it.

  “Will the money coming in from those who wish to see the relic provide all the funds necessary to renovate the cathedral?”

  Father Daniel chuckled. “The bishop has grand plans. He wants Longsbury Cathedral to be the largest church in the region. That is a quite a feat when you consider how many are within two days ride. As to whether the relic will be enough, I’m not certain.”

  William frowned, unable to hold his tongue. “I have to ask, is a bigger cathedral truly needed? If the purpose of the church is to see to the moral needs of the community and take care of those not able to care for themselves then why is a bigger church necessary when each village has a church of its own?”

  “That is an excellent question, Sir William.” Father Daniel grew solemn. “There is a fine balance between building a cathedral impressive enough to draw donations and therefore help people in need rather than building one that takes all available funds, leaving nothing for the true purpose of the church.”

  “I hope the bishop has considered this matter thoroughly.”

  “Of course. We have spoken of it at length.”

  William couldn’t help but note that Father Daniel hadn’t truly answered his question. “Is Abbot Clarke in agreement with the plans as well?”

  “He is well aware of the bishop’s intentions.” But the look on Father Daniel’s face made William wonder if that were true.

  Cups of warm mulled wine and honeyed dates were served to finish the meal. William had little opportunity to speak with Cristiana with the bishop sitting between them. Many took their leave and servants started cleaning up. When the bishop rose, William could think of no excuse to remain to speak with Cristiana.

  “Good night, Sir William,” the bishop said as he offered Cristiana his elbow.

  The imploring look she gave him made him wish he could’ve done something more. Yet he didn’t want to cause problems for her by acting too bold in front of the bishop.

  “Safe travels on the morrow,” Father Daniel said as he took his leave as well.

  Henry joined William as he watched Cristiana give him one last glance over her shoulder.

  “No sweet goodbyes?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t think the bishop would appreciate that.”

  Henry sighed. “I believe you have the right of it.”

  “I wanted to speak to her before we left but could think of no valid excuse to do so.”

  Henry slapped him on the back. “We will make this journey a quick one. We’ll be back before she misses us.”

  “Aye. That is an excellent notion.”

  “Eating in the hall is not the most pleasant experience,” Henry said as he glanced around. “People are far too serious around here if you ask me.”

  “’Tis true,” William agreed. “I didn’t notice earlier but the hall was subdued compared to others in which we’ve dined. I would guess no one wishes to displease the bisho
p.”

  “Do they fear his wrath?” Henry asked as they made their way outside.

  “Surely not,” William said, but he wasn’t sure. A certain look came across the bishop’s face at times, a hard look to his eyes that made William wonder. His lack of sympathy for Cristiana’s grief worried him as did the presence of Father Markus. William didn’t know what his duties were, but he couldn’t imagine the priest leading mass or even saying a prayer for that matter.

  “Let us seek our beds,” Henry suggested. “We have a long day ahead of us on the morrow.”

  William nodded reluctantly, filled with regret that he hadn’t bid Cristiana goodbye.

  ***

  Cristiana rose and dressed as quietly as possible in the dark. Sister Mawde slumbered on a pallet near the fire, her soft snores reassuring Cristiana that her mission would be successful.

  She slipped out the door and made her way to the courtyard. Though tempted to keep walking and leave Longsbury behind, she decided against it. Now that she was here, she was determined to make the best of it. Her priority was to find out if the bishop had any connection to her mother.

  But this night, someone else was on her mind.

  William.

  She couldn’t let him leave without bidding him goodbye. During their journey here, she’d become very fond of him. Too fond, perhaps, but she had few people in her life at the moment. He was one to be treasured.

  She’d discovered earlier that he and Henry were staying in the gatehouse. She hurried past the great hall where many slumbered, then down the stairs toward a door that led to an inner courtyard. At least she hoped it did. With luck, she’d manage to find a way into the gatehouse without raising any alarm.

  Cautiously, she opened the door and found the courtyard. With a breath of relief, she stepped outside and closed the door quietly behind her. Vines lined two walls of the courtyard, casting odd shadows in her path. She slowed her pace as her courage waned. What on earth was she doing? She couldn’t simply enter the gatehouse without knowing where William slept. Though it was unlikely that she would come to harm, if she were caught, the bishop would certainly hear of her outing. She had no doubt he would not approve.