Katherina sang then, to the tune Aimeé had played.
Hush little sister don't you cry,
Because in the morning we're going bye-bye,
But first we're going to close our eyes
In the morning the sun will rise
We'll be home when it's high in the sky
But first we have to close our eyes
So hush little sister, don't you cry.
Chansonne’s eyes went from half to completely closed, and her little chest rose and fell steadily. A light snore came from Aimeé.
“Just a bit longer,” Katherina murmured, and her eyes closed, too.
When morning came, and a dozen Avangarde arrived on the scene, the women were still entwined in each other’s arms.
#
“How did you find us?” Katherina asked, sipping at a mug of hot cider.
“When I heard reports of flute music from the garden, I knew it had to be you,” Patrick responded, regarding Aimeé next to her.
The pair sat on a bench in the kitchen surrounded by Avangarde. Chansonne slept in her room under guard. Anna and Clare placed the women’s feet in pans of hot water. Though the weather had not been severe, sleeping outdoors all night still made for a chilly morning. Katherina accepted a blanket thrown over her shoulders, as did Aimeé.
Patrick was cross. “That was very foolish. There’s no telling what the cardinal’s men would have done if they’d found Chansonne with you and you had tried to run.”
“We did the right thing finding her,” Katherina insisted, “and lucky for you. Otherwise she’d be on a boat to Rome right now with that evil man.”
“That ‘evil man’ is the head of the Board of Benefactors and a papal legate,” Patrick snapped, “and he is the girl’s patron.”
“You can’t be still seriously considering handing her over. Not after how he treated her,” Aimeé said.
Patrick shifted uncomfortably. “He merely was stern during Mass and frightened her.”
“Patrick!” Aimeé cried. “You can’t be serious!”
“We can hold onto her a little longer until the matter is sorted out,” Geoffrey said, placating. “No one will hurt her, I promise.”
Aimeé’s head swiveled between Geoffrey and Patrick as if confused by who had said what.
“Er, right, we’re not handing her over just yet,” Patrick added, also eyeing Geoffrey. “There are questions about the Cardinal Guard’s conduct during the search of the keep while we were gone. They damaged property, hurt some people, and most of all, it’s apparent someone from the cardinal’s staff lied to us into leaving Greensprings. All these things raise concerns with the board. They will decide soon what to do.”
“That’s all?” Katherina protested.
“We are the Avangarde,” Corbin explained. “We keep the peace between the factions and do not choose sides. If the board decides to hand her over to the cardinal, we have to oblige.”
“Now that she can hold the cup, he will take advantage of her,” Aimeé said.
“She has a power he will abuse, and her along with it,” Katherina almost shouted, slamming her mug on the table.
“So you say,” Corbin said.
“Just ask Sister Abigail,” Aimeé pleaded, “she will tell you.”
“Yes! She will tell you the whole story.”
The Avangarde exchanged glances.
“Why, what’s happened?” Katherina asked.
#
“Don’t disturb anything,” Father Wulfric said upon entering the room.
“We know, Father,” the Avangarde inside the room said. “We haven’t touched anything. Nor has anyone since the body was discovered, just as you always advise.”
“Excellent, lads,” Father Wulfric responded, approaching the body.
The pair of Avangarde bowed at the waist and left him alone. He shook his head sadly at the gentle old woman he had come to know during the board meeting at Greensprings. Of all the people to be the next victim, why her?
He sank to his knees, inspected her corpse, found nothing new, and so turned his investigation to the room.
It didn’t take him long to find what he sought. On the floor beneath the window was the wispy spider’s web of skin. Rather than pick it up, he crawled up close and manipulated it with his silver quill he had brought just for the occasion. He teased it open it until it revealed what he had hoped for: a face. A portion of the skin touching the silver, however, turned to smoke.
Before the rest of it smoldered away, he stood up in shock, recognizing the murderer.
Chapter Thirteen
The church bells jangled as if a corpse bobbed from the ringing rope.
The sound made it difficult for Father Wulfric to concentrate on his writing, but he managed to finish the letter. Once done, he set the silver quill down on his desk, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and contemplated the words he had put to parchment. He did not cherish what had to come next, but he saw no alternative.
Drawing a deep breath, he folded the letter to a meticulous square and inserted it into a pocket in his robe sleeve.
The clamor of the bells continued to assault his mind as he scrutinized the silver quill suspended between his index fingers.
A knock came at the door and he bid the visitor enter.
“Sorry to disturb you, Father,” an Avangarde said, poking his head inside his chamber, “but I’ve been told to inform you the bells signify a call for a meeting in the church among the board members.”
“Of course they do,” Father Wulfric replied sourly. He tempered his tone. “But thank you, young sir. I’ll be there shortly.”
The knight left, leaving Wulfric to stare at the quill a moment longer.
“Soon, it will be over,” he said. “No more flower-covered bodies.”
His hands shook and a bead of crimson pooled where the sharp tip of the quill met his finger, forming a drop that fell to the desk.
#
Father Wulfric took up a position on the steps near the doors of the church and scanned the crowd as they filed past him to enter. He slid each hand up the opposite sleeve of his robe and fingered the letter up one sleeve, and the quill up the other. He searched among the faces, waiting for the one he sought.
When he saw the girl Chansonne approach with her gaggle of governesses and Avangarde protectors, he made his way towards her, going against the flow of bodies. The clanging bells reached a new level of dissonance, matching the pounding in his head, as he neared. Standing before her and barring her path, he gripped the quill tightly. The bells stopped abruptly.
“Father?” Sir Patrick said. “May we help you?”
The other Avangarde—was his name Sir Geoffrey?—shifted uneasily.
Father Wulfric smiled, withdrew his hand, and stroked the child’s hair. “I just wanted to assure the young lady all will be well. That she is among friends and she will not be forced to do anything against her wishes.”
“Thank you, Father. We appreciate your support,” the Lady Katherina said.
She and the maidservant placed protective hands on Chansonne and Wulfric let the group continue on their way.
Sir Lucan was approaching with a group of crimson-clad guards. Wulfric stood in place, waiting as he fingered the quill and letter. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He almost wished the bells continued, for he found the click of their boots and the jangle of their spurs menacing.
Gathering his nerve, he stepped in their path. “Sir Lucan, if I could have a moment?”
Sir Lucan slowed to a stop, raising an eyebrow. “Only a moment, Father. As you can imagine I’m very busy.”
“Of course,” Wulfric responded, removing a hand from his robe sleeve to hold forth the letter. “If you would be so kind as to deliver this to the Lady Lilliana? I fear tensions are rather high right now and receiving this from a friendly face would be wiser.”
Lucan eyed the paper, shrugged, and stuffed it in his sword belt. “Consider it done, Father.”
#
Cardinal Teodorico and the Romans took up a position in front of the communion rail, forming a wall of reds and yellows. In his black cassock, Victor was the sole exception. All others in the church formed a semicircle around them, leaving an open space, keeping their distance as if the Romans carried a sickness. More than the usual crowd of benefactors gathered today. All in Greensprings sensed an endgame and were eager to witness it.
Patrick was watching Lady Lilliana, wondering what passed through her mind since their last encounter, which was why he noticed the message from Sir Lucan and her hasty departure. After a quick exchange of words, Cardinal Teodorico appeared unfazed by her withdrawal and commenced with the proceedings.
“Gentlemen,” he addressed the board, “we have been deadlocked in council chambers for a long time now with no resolution. We have, essentially, been waiting for a sign from God, hmm? That sign came yesterday in the form of a small child taking up the cup, hmm, yes?”
“And naturally, she happens to be someone under your control,” Count Fulk interjected from the crowd.
“Naturally?” Teodorico sniffed. “You act as if I had something to do with it. Providence is the domain of God. Who am I to question His choices?”
Angry murmurs rippled through the building.
“Let us recognize that now, hmm?” Teodorico shouted, banging his crozier on the flagstones. “The sooner we can share the cup with the world, the better, hmm, yes?”
“You mean so you can show the world the cup,” Abbot Herewinus said.
Teodorico shrugged. “God has spoken. It is time to move on. I thank the Avangarde for finding my charge, but she must now be returned to me.”
He gestured officiously to Chansonne, beckoning her forward.
Katherina and Aimeé placed hands on her shoulders and Patrick and Geoffrey took up positions in front of her.
Abbot Herewinus announced, “Cardinal, no disrespect, but we are not in agreement with your assessment. We feel more discussions are in order, especially now that someone can grasp the cup.”
“And you must answer for the conduct of your people during the search for Chansonne,” Mother Superior added bluntly. “Many people were unfairly put upon, and we feel deceived.”
“Nonsense,” Teodorico replied, face wrinkling in irritation. “There is a monster on the loose, hmm? Time was of the essence in finding the child. I’m sorry if a few feathers were ruffled. There is nothing left to talk about. Now hand her over, hmm, yes?”
Silence filled the church.
Cardinal Teodorico looked from one side of the crowd to the other. Color rose in his face as the color drained from the hand gripping his crozier.
“It is obvious you are all lovers of politics and not lovers of God! I see it is necessary for me to step in and make the right decision for all of us, hmm, yes?”
“You can’t do that!” someone cried from the balcony.
Teodorico sniffed. “No, hmm?”
“This is Greensprings, under the auspices of the Board of Benefactors. The entire board must make a decision, not just any one member,” Herewinus pointed out.
“I am the Director of the Board of Benefactors, hmm?” Teodorico countered. “I am in the College of Cardinals. I am the legate from Rome. My primacy as an archbishop alone gives me the right to make a decision in all matters holy and profane unilaterally, hmm, yes?”
“This is not your jurisdiction as an archbishop!” Abbot Herewinus challenged. “The closest thing to jurisdiction in that regard is Father Wulfric, who is the legate from Canterbury, and I’m certain he wishes for more talks. Right, Father Wulfric? Father Wulfric...?”
All turned their heads to search the crowd for the priest.
#
It didn’t take long for the Lady Lilliana to find him. He sat on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard.
Many people moved around the large fountain—not everyone had wanted to crowd into the church, preferring to go about their daily chores of fetching water or washing linens. The location was very public, yet noisy enough that private conversations could go unheard under the sound of the gurgling water.
Lilliana flowed onto the fountain edge, coming to rest next to the priest like a silk scarf poured from a vase.
“You wished to see me, Father?” she purred with a smile.
“Do you know what a humidor is, Lady Lilliana?” Wulfric asked without preamble, looking straight ahead and making a point not to look her in the face.
Lilliana blinked and shook her head, surprised at the odd question.
“A humidor—do you know what it is?”
She cleared her throat, sensing an unpleasant conversation. “I do not, but I imagine you’re about to tell me, aren’t you?”
“It is a box,” Wulfric explained, “having the ability to maintain a certain temperature and moisture inside. It is often used by scholars in certain climates to condition ancient documents slowly so they can be safely and easily handled. William Malmesbury had such a box and he was kind enough to lend it to me.”
“Dearest Father Wulfric, wherever is this going?” Lilliana said, raising a beautiful eyebrow.
“Up to this point,” he continued, “I have been thwarted in my investigation into the deaths caused by the creature that leaves its skin behind. That is, until now.”
“Creature? You said you believed it was a disease.”
“So I did, until Sister Abigail’s murder. But I found something.”
“Which was?”
“I was correct in my original supposition that the creature sheds its skin like a snake or an insect,” Wulfric continued, “leaving an impression of its owner’s image in the skin. Until now the skin was so fragile it disintegrated. I could not make out the image in time, let alone keep it as evidence for all the world to see before it fell apart.” He turned slowly towards her, this time making full eye contact. “But with a humidor, I was able to coax a face out of the skin. And do you know whose face I saw there, peering back at me?”
Lilliana held his gaze, but bit down on her nail, making a crunching sound.
“That’s right, Lady Lilliana, or whatever your name is,” Wulfric finished with a tone of satisfaction, looking straight ahead again. “Your face is still there for all to see. I do not know what manner of creature you are, or how you came to consort with an Archbishop of the Holy Church, but your game is over.”
Lilliana smiled, casting a glance around the courtyard and at the people walking through it.
“If so, then why are we having this conversation? Why not go straight to the Avangarde?” she asked, maintaining the pretenses of a pleasant chat.
“Because I wish to avoid more deaths,” he said simply.
“More likely so you can maneuver to possess the girl and cup yourself.”
Wulfric shrugged. “I admit I may benefit by not revealing your identity, but I do wish to avoid more death, as I doubt you wouldn’t be taken captive easily—not without loss of life. This way, you and Teodorico can slither back to Rome, and the cup can fall into friendlier hands.”
“You would just let us go quietly, just to avoid bloodshed?” Lilliana said, incredulous.
“Yes, after you have convinced the cardinal to give up his quest for the cup and to publicly advocate putting Chansonne under my protection,” Wulfric responded.
Lilliana tittered. “Playing with fire, Wulfie? Besides, you’re a little late. Teo is in there right now making his final push to keep the girl and take the cup.”
Wulfric shifted uneasily, but replied with confidence. “I’m sure he is, but we both know after recent events no one is going to return the girl to him. I realize he won’t let that stop him. That is where you and my message come in. Once Teodorico meets rejection in there, let that be the end of it. Let him declare his desire for the girl to be put under my protection, and then leave.”
“And once you have the girl? What is to keep you from informing on us?” Lilliana asked, plucking at her dark lacy gloves, remo
ving little bits of lint.
“Only my desire to avoid tragedy,” Wulfric said, nodding and smiling at a passer-by. “Besides, what choice do you have? Some chance of leaving here alive is better than none, don’t you think? Oh, and before you think I might meet an unfortunate ‘accident’ before day’s end, keep in mind I’ve instructed certain individuals to open the humidor should anything ‘unnatural’ happen to me.”
The jaw muscle in Lilliana’s face worked back and forth for a while.
“I will pass your demands on to Teo,” Lilliana said. “Should things not go his way in the meeting, I’m sure he will have an answer for you before nightfall.” She turned to him and placed her hand on his lap, gently rubbing his thigh with her harsh fingers. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this, though. Regardless of whoever possesses the cup, you have to admit a new world order is about to come, and Teodorico is in an excellent position to make the most of it. In this order, he will need men like you. You can profit from this.”
Wulfric gently but firmly took her hand and removed it from his thigh. “No need to seduce me. My resolve is firm.”
“Don’t be so sure, dearest Wulfie,” she said, leaning towards him and sniffing like a predator. “All men have their weaknesses, and I think I know yours.”
#
Patrick plucked at his collar, adjusting the weight of the chainmail coif hanging from his neck. Heat rose along with the rising tension in the room. Shouts from the crowd drowned out the individual arguments each benefactor tried to interject into the chaos. Though the exchange was no more severe than the most heated of past council meetings, Patrick squeezed the hilt of his sword, watching the Cardinal Guard across the room. It just now occurred to him the men in red surcoats outnumbered the Avangarde five to one in the church. When he noted Sir Wolfgang and Sir Corbin unperturbed by this, he relaxed some.
Some.
“Dismiss this mob,” Count Fulk shouted above the din, “and convene a more seemly council meeting. We still have much to discuss.”
Those siding with Cardinal Teodorico shouted Count Fulk down, creating a new round of heated exchanges. Teodorico’s livid face shifted about the mouth as he readied to join the arguments, but then his eyes suddenly cut away. Patrick followed his gaze and saw Lilliana enter the church. She made eye contact with the cardinal and her index finger nonchalantly moved across her throat before continuing to pluck at her tresses. The gesture happened so quickly and subtly Patrick almost questioned if he had seen it, but when he turned his gaze back to Teodorico, the acknowledgement in the older man’s eyes proved some sort of communication had indeed happened.
Ripples in the Chalice: A Tale of Avalon (Tales of Avalon Book 2) Page 34
