Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me

by Lana Williams

  How could he determine what should be done when he was so tangled up inside?

  “Tell her help is on the way.” He decided it best to keep it simple. He didn’t want his message to cause her worry, only to reassure her that she was not alone.

  “I’m not certain I can get a message to her,” Aldwin said.

  “Perhaps one of the servants would be willing to pass it to her. Above all, continue to watch. Send word immediately if anything changes.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir,” the boy promised.

  William watched him hurry toward the manor, wishing he was going with him, wondering if he should.

  “I doubt Aldwin will be of much assistance while Cristiana is locked inside.”

  “True. We need Branwen. She’ll have better luck getting inside and she’d do anything for Cristiana.”

  “I haven’t been able to find her of late. I stopped by the baker’s and it seems she hasn’t been there for the past two days.”

  “Where could she have gone? We don’t need another mystery to solve.”

  “I’ll keep looking for her. You realize that Cristiana may not be pleased to see us,” Henry suggested, hands on hips as he watched William. “Perhaps she’s not yet ready to be rescued if she’s still trying to discover more about her mother.”

  “How much can she discover if she’s locked in her chamber? The decision is no longer hers to make. We can only do what we think is right with the information we have.”

  Henry nodded.

  William ran his fingers through his hair, still unsettled with the whole situation.

  “So we’ll rescue the lady and leave for your brother’s holding.”

  He remained silent at Henry’s statement.

  “William?” His friend’s tone held a note of warning.

  “I believe we have a bigger problem,” he said, choosing his words carefully before giving voice to the problem that plagued him. “I’m not convinced saving Cristiana is enough.”

  “How so?”

  “If we take Cristiana from the bishop, he’ll pursue her or he’ll find someone else to use. Neither of those is acceptable.”

  “William—”

  “How can we take her and simply walk away?”

  “I thought our purpose was to save the lady.” Henry sighed. “What are you suggesting?”

  “We must find a way to show the bishop’s true nature.”

  “That is for the abbot to do.”

  “But he is not yet convinced of the bishop’s guilt.”

  Henry stared at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious. This is not our problem.”

  “If not ours, whose?”

  “Hell’s teeth, man.” His friend turned away then spun back. “Only you can go from being convinced that by working for the bishop you can earn your second chance at life to deciding that he must be removed from his position. Surely that is for Abbot Clarke and the archbishop to decide.”

  William remained silent, thinking over their options. “Abbot Clarke cannot do it alone. The information he has in hand is comprised of stories from others. No witnesses. Little evidence other than a dead body that can only be loosely associated with the bishop.”

  “Because Bishop Duval doesn’t leave any evidence. He keeps things tidy.”

  “All the more reason he must be stopped.”

  “The archbishop will make inquiries.”

  “Aye, but that could easily be brushed off by the bishop. The archbishop would have to be completely convinced of the bishop’s guilt to remove him,” William warned. “All of our efforts might be for naught. Father Charles deserves better than that.”

  “This seems an impossible task.” Henry rubbed a hand over his bald head.

  “We need only give the bishop enough rope with which to hang himself.”

  “But at the same time, keep the lady out of his clutches,” Henry added.

  “That will remain our first priority. I have no intention of risking Cristiana.”

  William shared his idea with Henry, all the while wondering how he could truly keep Cristiana safe.

  ***

  “I insist on speaking with Bishop Duval,” Cristiana told Father Daniel the next morn. No matter what, she would not give up in her quest. Father Daniel was her best hope as Father Markus seemed to take pleasure in displeasing her.

  “Oh?” He wrung his hands as he seemed so fond of doing. “Are you now willing to cooperate with his plans?”

  “I wish to speak with him personally on the matter.” Cristiana tried to hide her anger from the priest. He had seemed like such a nice man. Was it belief or fear that made him so loyal to the bishop?

  “Bishop Duval is a busy man. He is only able to speak with you when you have given your full agreement.”

  Though tempted to say she agreed, lying would serve no purpose. That made her no better than the bishop.

  Her attempt to confront him had resolved nothing. She feared that he’d have her chamber searched for the letter and the ring. She’d hidden both well, but someone could find them eventually.

  “I would like to further discuss the situation with him,” she told Father Daniel.

  “I’m terribly sorry, but that simply won’t do. I’ll return later to see if you have changed your mind.”

  “But—”

  The door swung shut in her face. The lock turned with a distinct click. She couldn’t help but kick the wooden portal then spun to pace the chamber.

  Again.

  How dare he! Staying here did her no good. She couldn’t ask questions or explore the grounds or do anything productive.

  Not to mention the fact that she was going a bit crazed from staring at the same four walls. The outside shutters had been latched from the outside so she couldn’t open them.

  She stopped mid-stride and closed her eyes.

  In truth, no option lay before her except one. She would have to agree to the bishop’s plans until she could find out more. She’d become a meek, obedient ward with whom he could not find fault.

  Doubt filled her at the idea.

  Complying with his wishes made her feel as if he’d won their battle of wills. That did not sit well with her.

  How could she agree yet keep her health? He would continue to push her to the bounds of ability. When she resisted because she needed to rest, he’d once again lock her away.

  In truth, she wasn’t always successful in healing. Certain illnesses seemed impenetrable to her abilities. If someone was too far gone, she couldn’t help either. She’d never been able to heal her mother from even the smallest sniffle, a shortcoming that had maddened her.

  If she didn’t perform as the bishop commanded, she feared he’d do far worse than lock her in her chamber.

  A knock at the door sent her heart pounding. The door swung wide to admit Branwen and a maid servant she hadn’t yet met who carried a tray of bread, cheese, and a pitcher.

  “Lady Cristiana,” Branwen said as she bobbed a quick curtsy. Her gaze darted around the room as the door was locked behind them. “I brought someone to meet you.”

  The young maid curtsied as well then moved across the chamber to set the tray of food on a small table.

  “We told the guard we were supposed to bring you a meal,” Branwen whispered. “I couldn’t think of any other excuse. I wanted Uclid to meet you so we could go.”

  Cristiana frowned, uncertain of what Branwen was speaking.

  “You said that if you found out more about your mother, we could leave this place,” she explained.

  Excitement poured through Cristiana as she turned to the maid. “You know something of my mother?”

  The woman nodded, glancing at the door nervously. “I served them wine in his chamber the last night she was here. She and the bishop were speaking.”

  “Tell me of it, please.”

  “They were arguing when I first came to the door. I could hear their raised voices. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I waited a few moments before I b
rought in the wine. Their voices had lowered, so I thought they had resolved their disagreement, but when I set down the wine, they started again.”

  The maid paused and Cristiana feared that was all she had seen. “Did you hear what they argued over?”

  She licked her lips nervously, glancing again at the door before continuing to whisper. “She said that all he ever told her were lies. That he’d never intended to follow through with their plans. She seemed very sad. Then the bishop told me to leave, but he was so angry, so I peeked back before I closed the door to make certain the lady would be all right.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “The bishop turned his back on her to pour the wine and the lady took something off his desk and tucked it up her sleeve. When the bishop turned back, she acted as though nothing had happened. She told him that she’d give him one last chance and then she was taking matters into her own hands.”

  “Did she say anything else?” Cristiana desperately wanted to know.

  “I’ve no idea, my lady. I took my leave and didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She left the manor house soon after.”

  “Did you see what she took?”

  “Not exactly,” the maid said, her gaze falling to the floor.

  “Please,” Cristiana said, “if you know anything it could truly help me.”

  “I don’t mean to speak ill of anyone.”

  “Nay, of course not.”

  “I saw the bishop’s ring as I came in. It reflected in the candlelight and caught my eye. But when I left, it wasn’t there anymore. If I had to guess, I’d say she took the bishop’s ring.”

  “Did you tell the bishop?”

  “Nay, though I did fear he’d think I took it, but what would I do with such a thing? If you tried to sell it, anyone would know where it came from.”

  Cristiana felt a tug on her sleeve and turned to find Branwen at her side.

  “Now that you know this, we can leave, right?”

  “Soon, Branwen. Very soon. But first I must speak with the bishop.” Finding a witness was more than she’d hoped for. Now she’d be able to force him to tell her the truth.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I’m so pleased you’ve seen the beauty of my plan,” Bishop Duval said as he sat at his desk, regarding her closely. He sat forward in his chair, his fingers steepled on the desk, the red stone in his ring glinting dully in the light as though to encourage her. “We can do amazing things together.”

  Cristiana stared at him, trying to understand what her mother had seen in him. Though she’d been avoiding the truth, she could deny it no longer. Her mother and the bishop had been involved in an intimate affair.

  It explained so many things. The trips her mother had made to visit ‘friends’. The change in her mood before and after those trips. The secrets her mother had kept. All of those could be explained by this man.

  “You had an affair with her.” If she hadn’t been watching him so carefully, she would’ve missed the flicker in his eyes that confirmed her suspicions.

  “What nonsense is in your head now?”

  “In fact, she was in this very chamber on her last night here. Only days before she was killed.”

  His eyes narrowed. “At the risk of repeating myself, it appears you are still feeling poorly.”

  “You disappointed her time and again. You made promises to her that you never intended to keep.” That broke Cristiana’s heart. Her mother’s hopes must’ve rose before her visits to him only to be dashed when he failed to keep his word yet again.

  “I have no idea of what you’re speaking.” His lips tightened; his anger palpable.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” he asked impatiently.

  “Why did you have her killed? Was she making demands you couldn’t keep? Had she become too inconvenient for you?”

  “Now you’re accusing me of murder? This is ridiculous.” He rose from behind his desk to stand before her. “No more of this talk about your mother.”

  But Cristiana was not about to let it go. “In the letter, she said you made promises to her, and that if you didn’t keep them, she’d take matters into her own hands.”

  “You are obviously distraught. This is nonsense. I have only one question I want answered.” His anger confirmed the truth though his words denied it. He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. He paused for a long moment as though waiting for something before continuing, “Are you willing to comply with my plan?”

  She tugged her hand from his and rose. “Nay. Never. I want you to tell me why. Why did you have her murdered?” Tears filled her eyes as she thought of what her mother had gone through that night. How this selfish man had taken away all she’d known—including her mother’s life.

  His face flushed as his temper rose. “You seem to be confused. You are under the mistaken impression that you have a choice. You do not. I posed the question only as a courtesy which you obviously do not deserve. You are mine to do with as I please. I have the documents to prove it. As your guardian, I will do with you as I see fit.”

  A tremor of fear stole through Cristiana but she stood firm. “I have the letter and the ring. I have a witness that heard you arguing with my mother the last night she was here, just before she was murdered.”

  “A witness?” He laughed. “Who? A servant? No one will take a servant’s word over mine. Do you forget who I am?”

  Cristiana swallowed hard, her confidence faltering. He was right, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “I will continue telling others until someone listens to me. And they will.”

  He folded his hands before him, his cold gaze steady on hers. “You are of no use to me if you do not cooperate with my vision. Without my protection, you’ll be accused of witchcraft and hung or far worse.”

  That tremor of fear inside her grew. How many times had she and her mother been forced to deny ties to witchcraft? People were superstitious, ready to believe ill of anyone different.

  “I need only whisper the word and people will turn on you, even those you’ve healed in the past.”

  If a powerful man such as he called her a witch, she would be in danger. She had no doubt he would do so in a heartbeat if she continued to defy him.

  Yet how would living in fear of being accused of witchcraft be any different than living in fear of him and the demands he would place on her? He would push her and push her past her limitations. She’d witnessed that already.

  “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I will not aid you. Not after what you did to my mother.” She knew she risked much by refusing to agree with what he wanted, but in her heart, she knew it was the right path.

  His eyes narrowed. “Sir William is due back from his journey soon. It would be a shame if he doesn’t survive his next mission.”

  Cristiana’s heart slid to her knees. Her mind went blank at the thinly veiled threat.

  “I noticed you have a soft spot for the knight.” He smiled—the very smile she’d come to hate. “’Tis a pity that his occupation is so very hazardous.”

  “This situation is between you and I,” she said softly. “Act with honor and let it remain that way.” She knew her demand was pointless. He apparently wasn’t capable of acting honorably, but she had to try.

  “Once again, you forget who you are dealing with. I am a bishop and above the petty rules of chivalry that your William is burdened by.”

  “You will not harm him.” Fear made the back of her throat dry. William stood for everything right in this world. If anything happened to him because of her, she couldn’t bear it. The idea of losing him caused her chest to ache, her eyes to burn.

  “I’m so glad we’ve come to this understanding. You won’t regret it, my dear.”

  Despair filled her, yet she could see no other solution. While willing to risk her own life, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk William’s. She would do anything in her power to protect him.

  Even if that meant staying with Bishop Duval.
<
br />   She closed her eyes in defeat. How could her quest for vengeance have ended this way?

  ***

  “You’ve got the relic?” William asked as they reached the bishop’s manor house. Grey clouds hung low as though a portend of impending doom on their mission. While he had an uneasy feeling about the meeting, he was relieved to be taking action at last.

  “How many more times are you going to ask?” Henry responded. “The answer is the same.”

  William’s heart pounded fiercely. He planned to trade the relic for Cristiana. He knew the bishop wanted both, but wasn’t certain which he wanted more.

  Their arrival was noted by two men-at-arms who guarded the entrance to the manor. They watched as a stable boy came forward to take their horses. William waved the boy off, wanting to keep the horses ready in case they needed to make a quick escape.

  William mounted the stairs with Henry at his side. The guards opened the manor house door for them, and William breathed a sigh of relief. The alarm had not yet been raised for their delayed arrival.

  “Let us hope this goes well,” William muttered to Henry.

  Within moments, they were shown into the bishop’s private chamber. His heart leapt as he saw Cristiana sitting on the bench near the bishop. He gave her a searching look but she hardly glanced at him.

  It immediately put his suspicions on edge even as doubt filled him. Had her feelings for him changed? Had the bishop done something to her?

  “Greetings, Sir William, Sir Henry.” The bishop rose, his expression eager. His face appeared thinner than when William had last seen him. “Your journey took longer than I anticipated. Were you successful in your endeavor?”

  “Aye,” William said, glancing at Cristiana yet again. Something was definitely wrong, but how to discover what it was?

  Henry stepped forward to set a small cloth bundle on the bishop’s desk.

  The bishop’s eyes lit with a strange fervor as he reached for the bundle with trembling hands.

  William put his hand over the top of it. “There is something we need in exchange.”