Sleep soon came for her, but not for William. His worry for her had increased threefold. How could a woman with her ability ever kill? Yet her determination ran deep. She was a lady set on vengeance. He’d had a taste of her perseverance himself. He almost pitied the man who became her target for William had no doubt that he would soon be dead.
The question was, would Cristiana survive it?
CHAPTER NINE
Cristiana stared at the horizon, her stomach rolling with nerves. Two spires were visible in the distance above the city walls. She knew one belonged to the abbey and the other to the cathedral but wondered which had the taller spire. The surrounding town was still growing based on the number of new huts and structures that spilled outside the city wall.
The road grew busier as they neared Longsbury. William had told her the city had started as a small holding at a bend in the river. Its central location and nearness to water had encouraged its growth.
“All of this belongs to the abbey,” William said as he pointed to fields upon fields of stubble with a large stone barn set in the distance. “The harvest was plentiful this year. I’ve heard the barn is near to bursting.”
William seemed to sense her nervousness for he’d shared what he knew about the city as they drew closer. “Abbot Clarke has brought much prosperity to the area with the way he’s managed the abbey’s lands. I’m not certain Bishop Duval appreciates that. There seems to be a bit of rivalry between the two.”
An ox cart heaped with firewood slowed their progress as they neared the large timbered bridge which brought them to the city gate. Cristiana was amazed at the variety of people entering Longsbury. She’d been raised in a small village and had rarely ventured outside of it, certainly never to a city of this size.
Peasants on foot carried their possessions in cloth bags slung over weary shoulders. A peddler drove a cart that chimed with trinkets for sale. Geese and sheep were herded through the entrance as well, squawking and bleating in protest.
She’d found no opportunity to slip away with Branwen this morn. Now it was too late. It seemed she’d be meeting Bishop Duval this day whether she liked it or not.
But panic filled her as they drew closer to the gate. She kneed her horse to ride beside William. “I ask you one last time—nay, I beg you. Please let me go.”
He looked taken aback at her request. “Cristiana, I cannot. It would not be safe for you. The city is no place for a lady of your beauty nor is the countryside. You need protection and the bishop will provide that.” His brown gaze held hers, so confident that he was right.
“I hope that’s true.” She closed her eyes for a moment in defeat and murmured a prayer of apology to her mother who surely watched over her, anxious with worry at the path Cristiana’s life was taking. Resigned, she opened her eyes to the crowded road and straightened her spine as William took the lead again.
She pitied the soldiers who guarded the entrance to the city, for there seemed little hope of controlling the swelling mass attempting to make their way into the city. She glanced behind to be certain the rest of the group hadn’t become separated. Branwen and Sister Mawde rode together behind them, followed by Henry and finally the two men-at-arms.
At last, they passed through the gate, but the chaos continued. The crowd moved in the same direction as William. Her horse seemed content to follow him, freeing her to gaze about in wonder—anything to distract her from the upcoming meeting.
Simple wooden huts lined the crooked street which led to a large marketplace. People hurried to and fro in no particular direction, many walking, some in carts, and a few on horseback. The mass swelled as they reached the bustling market square. Two-story houses of wood and stone stood shoulder to shoulder around the area where vendors peddled their wares.
William reined in to ride beside her. “’Tis market day. Normally it’s not quite so crowded.”
“’Tis bigger than I’d imagined,” Cristiana said. “And louder.” The noise of the city was shocking after the quiet of the road.
“You’ll soon grow used to the sounds,” William said with a smile. “Though ’tis more peaceful away from the market.”
Peace was nothing she’d know until she discovered her mother’s murderer. But as she looked across the crowded square, she realized her plan to discover the killer would be more difficult than she’d realized. There were so many people, many of whom stared at her as their party rode by. Where would she begin?
“The cathedral and Bishop Duval’s manor are in the north east part of the city,” William said as they made their way slowly through the throng.
Her stomach lurched at the idea of meeting him. Though she longed to get it over with so she could focus on her quest, it wasn’t that simple. After all, she’d be staying with him for the foreseeable future. If her mother’s warnings were correct, danger of some sort lurked there. He was a powerful man and she had to proceed with caution. She didn’t want to rouse his suspicions unless she had a reason to do so.
As she pondered the matter further, she realized the bishop could serve as the beginning of her search. Since her mother had mentioned him, she must’ve known him. Mayhap in some way, Cristiana becoming his ward would work to her advantage.
Her gaze caught on William as he rode beside her, already dreading the thought of saying goodbye to him and Henry. She’d grown fond of them. William’s handsome profile and broad shoulders made her stomach do a little dip. Her feelings for the knight grew each day.
Being in his passionate embrace the previous night had left her with a memory to last forever. A part of her wished he would’ve made her his. Their time together had been far too brief. The thought of him holding her in his arms, of his caresses, and most definitely his kisses, made her warm all over once again.
“Does the bishop know of your gift?” William asked as he slowed his horse to walk beside hers.
She blinked, trying to pull her thoughts together. “Abbess Catherine mentioned it in a letter to him.”
“I wish she hadn’t.”
“As do I,” she agreed. William’s response only made her more frightened of the bishop’s intentions. While she knew the abbess had been trying to do her a favor, in reality, she’d complicated things more than she could’ve possibly imagined.
“Perhaps your stay with him will be better than you expect.”
“I expect he’ll try to use me, much as some of the priests who came to our parish did.” Cristiana knew she sounded bitter, but couldn’t help it. While she was oft times grateful for her ability, life would be much simpler if she were normal.
“What if he wants to work with you? To help you with your ability?”
Cristiana stared at him, wondering if he jested. “After all you’ve been through, are you truly that hopeful?”
He shrugged. “Without hope, what is there?”
She didn’t have an answer to that.
“Isn’t that why you heal people? Because you have hope?”
She thought on his question for a long moment. “I suppose you’re right. There is still some buried deep inside me.”
“Then mayhap the bishop will add to it.”
“We shall see.” She cleared her throat, nervous to ask her question. She hated to sound too needy. “Will you remain in Longsbury for a time?”
“I am not certain. Henry and I are supposed to bring a religious relic from another cathedral, but we have not yet been informed of the details. Anxious to be rid of me?”
Some of her worry must’ve showed on her face, for he eased closer. “I intend to stay nearby and watch over you as best I can.”
“For that I am grateful,” she said. His words gave her greater comfort than he could’ve guessed.
“Bishop Duval’s manor is close to the cathedral. You can see the spire from here.”
The road out of the market square curved as it continued through the town then widened to display the cathedral at the far end. There the road split as though demanding people choose. To the left, the
abbey could be seen in the distance. To the right, the cathedral stood.
It was easily the tallest building in the city, but she realized at once that the abbey’s spire was higher. Scaffolding stood along one wall of the cathedral, and workers clambered up and down, much like busy ants whose purpose was difficult to determine. Nearby, carts held their tools and supplies.
The church was impressive, a mixture of old and new. The windows were the shape of lancets, coming to a point at the top. A tall, arched stone entrance with carved columns on either side graced the front. The ornate opening felt less than welcoming to Cristiana.
She paused to read the Latin inscribed in the stone archway. Porta Patens Esto, Nulli Claudaris Honesto. “Gate be open, shut to no honest man,” she interpreted.
“You read Latin?” William asked.
“Aye, my mother taught me. She thought that the more a wife knew, the more assistance she could be to her husband.”
“What happened to your father?”
“I don’t know. He died when I was young and she rarely spoke of him. She would only say he was of noble birth, a man of great importance but she’d never tell me his name. When I asked of him, she told me little and became very sad, often for days. I finally stopped asking.” She shrugged. The identity of her father had passed away with her mother, but as he had never been a part of her life, Cristiana felt little sorrow for the loss.
“I understand why you and your mother were so close. I’m blessed to have both my mother and father still.”
She studied William, hoping to distract herself from what was to come. She tried to imagine him as a young boy. Those big brown eyes must’ve gotten him out of difficulty on many occasions.
“What?” William asked, one brow raised at her scrutiny.
“I’m guessing you escaped trouble more often than not.”
William smiled innocently, eyes wide. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Exactly my point.”
His laugh calmed her, making her smile in return.
They rounded the corner of the cathedral and Cristiana saw the manor house. The large wood and stone structure’s first floor consisted of a vaulted undercroft most likely used for storage. Stairs led to the next level where two men-at-arms guarded double doors. The top of the wooden portal was carved with the symbol of a crosier, an elaborate shepherd’s crook, marking the residence as that of a bishop. People entered and exited as they watched. Obviously, the bishop was a busy man.
They dismounted in the small courtyard near the stairs and a young lad ran forward to take their horses.
“Bishop Duval will either be in the hall attending to business or perhaps in his private chambers,” William murmured as he offered his arm.
Heart pounding, she swallowed hard as she took his arm, wishing she never had to let go.
“Lady Cristiana,” Sister Mawde called as she hurried to catch them. “I would remind you that the bishop must be treated him with the utmost respect.”
“Of course,” Cristiana replied. “Will you be staying at the bishop’s, Sister?”
Her hands fluttered as though she wasn’t certain what to do with them. “If the bishop would have need of me, I would be most pleased to stay for a time.”
Though Cristiana had formed little affection for Sister Mawde, she would welcome having a familiar face here.
Branwen approached Cristiana. Her nervous gaze flitting around until it held on the doorway at the top of the stairs. “I’m not going in there, my lady.”
“Why not?” Cristiana asked. The maid had been so pleased to have the comforts of an inn that Cristiana thought for certain she’d enjoy staying at the bishop’s manor.
“That place gives me the shivers,” she said with a nod at the entrance.
“’Tis the home of a bishop,” Cristiana argued, confused at her reluctance. Branwen had no reason to fear him and her comment did not ease Cristiana’s nerves. “You haven’t yet been inside.”
The maid shook her head, her lips set in a grim line. “I will be in the stables if you have need of me.”
“But Branwen, I will most definitely need you.” William and Henry were leaving, and Cristiana needed someone to serve as an ally here. She couldn’t rely on Sister Mawde for the nun admired the bishop far too much.
“I’ll be nearby, but I’m not staying in there.”
Before Cristiana could argue further, the maid hurried after the boy who had taken their horses.
“Are you ready?” William asked.
“As ready as I could possibly be.” She pushed aside the feeling of abandonment that Branwen’s odd behavior had left. She could only deal with one problem at a time. First came her meeting with the bishop.
The feel of William’s arm beneath her trembling hand gave her strength as they mounted the stairs. One of the guards greeted William and opened the door for them.
“Good day, my lady. Sir William.” A small man in a black cleric’s robe hurried toward them. “How was your journey?”
“Longer than expected, Father Daniel.”
“Indeed. Bishop Duval has been most anxious about the delay in your arrival.” He smiled kindly, soothing Cristiana’s nervousness.
Surely if the bishop surrounded himself with people like William and Henry and Father Daniel, he would be a good person. Yet her mother’s warnings rang in her ear.
“Follow me, if you please. The bishop awaits you in his private chamber,” Father Daniel said.
They passed a small chapel and a flight of stairs that appeared to lead to the great hall on the upper level. Several servants and young clergyman clustered near a closed door at the back of the manor. A servant hurried to open the door as Father Daniel brushed past the small group.
Cristiana glanced nervously at William as they followed the priest through a small waiting room to another door. Her heart pounded harder with each step they took. Father Daniel knocked twice and, after receiving a muffled response, opened the door to reveal a large chamber with a high ceiling and tall, arched windows.
An older man in a wine-colored robe edged with gold embroidery sat at the ornately carved desk in the center of the room. He watched her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before at last rising from his chair.
This must be Bishop Duval, she realized. He was slightly taller than her with a round face and grey, thinning hair. His large blue eyes drooped at the outside corners, giving him a kindly appearance. He was nothing like she’d expected from her mother’s dire warnings.
“Lady Cristiana. I’m delighted you are here at last.” The bishop walked around the desk and held out his hand.
“Thank you, my lord bishop,” Cristiana said and kissed his ring.
“We had hoped you’d arrive much earlier,” he said, directing his comment at William, offering his hand to the knight who kissed his ring as well.
“That would be my fault,” Cristiana added, not wanting William to take the blame. She well knew if she hadn’t attempted escape so many times, they would’ve arrived sooner.
“Oh?” Bishop Duval looked at her in question, obviously waiting for an additional explanation. He took her hand, his palm feeling soft and smooth against hers, so different from William’s calloused one.
His question made Cristiana uncomfortable but she refused to respond. He would not find her so easy to manipulate. She smiled pleasantly as she waited for him to say something. Surely good manners would force him to do so.
Instead he turned to William. “Perhaps you can explain the reason for the delay, Sir William.”
Cristiana was taken aback. Though the conversation on the surface seemed a simple one, she felt as though she was involved in a struggle for power.
“’Tis of no consequence,” William said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the bishop. “We are here now.”
“So you are.” The bishop smiled again and the moment was gone, leaving Cristiana wondering if it had only been in her imagination.
She tugged at her
hand and he released it only to put his hand on her shoulder. Shocked at the overly familiar gesture despite his status of bishop, she eased out of his reach.
He showed no reaction to her movement but instead spoke to William. “We have another mission for you and Henry. Father Daniel will explain the details. You must leave at once since you were delayed in your return to Longsbury. You are behind schedule already.”
Cristiana bit her lip, filled with dismay at this news. She’d hoped William would be nearby awhile longer. She caught his gaze, giving him a small shrug to let him know she understood it couldn’t be helped.
“The earliest we can leave would be first light,” William said. “We need to attend to a few things here and gather supplies.”
“I see. Well, I suppose we’ll have to make do with that, won’t we?” The bishop turned to Father Daniel. “Will you give Sir William his instructions?”
“Of course,” the priest said with a bow. “Sir William, if you’ll follow me, I will gather the necessary documents.”
William stepped between Cristiana and the bishop, giving her a wink as he passed. “Take care, my lady,” he whispered.
Warmed by his words, she lifted her chin and drew a deep breath. She could do this. She need only remember it was all for her mother.
Yet the sight of William’s broad shoulders leaving through the door made her heart pound. This was the moment she’d feared since receiving word that the bishop was to become her guardian.
She was alone with the very man her mother had warned her about. Never trust him, she’d told Cristiana. Stay far away. He is not as he appears.
As the bishop turned to face her, she swallowed hard, uncertain what to expect or what to do.
“So tell me, my child, how do you fare? I understand from Abbess Catherine at the Convent of Saint Gabriel that you recently lost your mother?” With a look of concern, he moved to sit behind his desk and gestured toward one of the simple chairs before it.
Doubt filled her. He seemed kind and gentle, nothing like she’d expected. She reminded herself that meant little. Her goal remained the same: to discover if he’d had anything to do with her mother’s death.
Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me Page 11