Seeking The Truth - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 11)

by Shea,Lisa

  Sean looked to his right, and Morgan followed his glance. Roger and Peter, both dressed in their green uniforms, walked out of a side doorway to stand at Sean’s side, both men looking alertly around the room.

  Morgan’s shoulders eased. She trusted each man there with her life. Sean would be all right.

  Even so, with the press of people around her, the church full of wedding ribbons, flowers, and the glow of the candles, nervousness tickled at her stomach, created a winding sensation. This was a wedding they were talking about, the most holy of vows. Once this started into motion, there was always the chance that it could not be stopped, that it would roll inexorably toward its final culmination.

  She shook her head sharply, driving the thought from her mind. It would never happen. She would not let that trap close, no matter what it took.

  A pair of minstrels by the door began playing on harp and lute, and all eyes turned toward the back of the room. The room’s inhabitants slowly drew up to their feet in a shuffling of noise. Then Cassandra was there, Lady Donna by her side.

  Morgan drew in a long breath. Whatever else she was, Cassandra was certainly beautiful. She wore a long, intricately embroidered pale blue dress, a tracery of white shimmering down in lazy curls. Her blonde hair was done up in cascading braids. Morning glories of a matching blue were tucked into several curls. She looked like a vision.

  Morgan’s her heart dropped. Any man would give his right arm to have that woman by his side, whatever her inner character flaws might be. She knew of the fickleness of a man, of the way he went for outer beauty. Add to that the knowledge that Sean had always dreamt of her … she wondered, suddenly, if she would have the chance to speak.

  Cassandra looked ahead for a moment, and for a second Morgan saw her eyes light up with avarice, with a bright smirk of satisfaction. Then, just as quickly, the blonde was the demure, shy bride again, adjusting her dress for the formal walk down the aisle.

  Morgan shook herself; the transfixing spell had been broken. She swept her eyes forward, realizing as she turned that she was the only person to pull her gaze from the vision at the back of the chapel. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were fixed with delighted appreciation at Cassandra. Her own eyes moved up to the altar, to Sean.

  She brought her hand to her chest, her heart stopping. Sean was looking straight at her. His gaze tender and firm. He gave her the slightest of nods, but for her it meant everything, renewed her faith, restored her strength. She returned his nod, squaring her shoulders. She was ready.

  The music swelled, and Cassandra walked slowly, steadily down the aisle. All faces turned to watch her progress, and it seemed an eternity before she reached the front of the chapel. Lady Donna carefully took Cassandra’s right hand, placing it into Sean’s with a quiet blessing. Then she moved over to the first pew, taking her position there.

  Father Ornish made a lowering motion with his hand, and there was a rustle of noise as the congregation found their seats again, as the room settled into silence. He swept his gaze across the multitudes, then nodded with satisfaction.

  “Dearly beloved,” he intoned in a sonorous voice, “we are gathered here today to re-seal the love between Sean, nephew to Lady Donna, and Cassandra, a woman he has known since he was eighteen years old. We will begin anew with today, a fresh start for both of the individuals before us.”

  He looked out over the gathered watchers. “Marriage is a sacred institution, one of the holy sacraments. It must be entered into of free will. If anyone feels this couple should not be united in Holy Matrimony, speak now - or forever hold your peace.”

  A hush rolled across the room. Morgan’s throat closed up; she reeled at the enormity of what she was about to do. There was no turning back now. Everything she had done before to outrage her community would pale before this, if something went wrong.

  She marshaled her strength and stood, throwing back the hood of her cloak. “I have something to say,” she called out in a loud, clear voice.

  The congregation turned with a roaring gasp, and Cassandra’s eyes blazed with fury as she made out who it was who had spoken. “You dare to bring your petty, jealous whining into my wedding?”

  Lady Donna stood slowly, her face ice cold. She nodded her head, and instantly three guards rolled off of the back wall, moving their way through the crowd toward her. Morgan worked her way down the pew toward the central aisle. The guards were waiting for her, grabbing her securely by each arm, turning to drag her from the church.

  “I will be heard!” she cried out at the top of her lungs, drawing all eyes to her. “I have a right!”

  “Wait!” called out Father Ornish in a commanding voice. All motion stopped, all eyes turned to him.

  “Young lady,” he instructed, his voice serious. “If you are interrupting this service for your own vain needs, I warn you that the penalties will be swift indeed. Do you swear to me that you have a legitimate issue to air, one which has a direct impact on these two individuals’ ability to wed?”

  “Yes,” vowed Morgan, her head held high, meeting the priest’s gaze with solid resolve. “I swear to you, on my honor, I am not wasting your time.”

  Lady Donna scoffed openly. “Your honor,” she snapped sharply, her eyes raking down Morgan with disdain.

  Father Ornish looked down at Lady Donna. “Let her speak,” he commanded. “If there is in fact an impediment, then she is bound as a child of God to reveal it.”

  Lady Donna’s face retained its angry disbelief, but she nodded to her guards. They released their grip on Morgan’s arms, stepping back.

  Morgan took several long strides forward, making her way to the center of the church’s main aisle. “What I have to say involves the bride-to-be, Cassandra,” she called out to the assembled crowd. “We will start with this current wedding. Cassandra came to Sean only two weeks ago, telling him they had been married when he had visited her town thirteen years prior. She presented a contract to prove this. The contract was dated August fifteenth, 1200, from her hometown of Ferring.”

  Sean stepped forward. “I have that contract here,” he announced. He held it up before the throng, then propped it up against the altar.

  Cassandra’s eyes flashed with anger. “Yes, we were married earlier,” she called out haughtily, her eyes pinning Morgan’s. “That is common knowledge, and hardly worthy of your theatrics.”

  “I did not say you were married,” contested Morgan with a slight smile. “I only said you presented a contract. It so happens that I personally went to the church of Ferring and spoke with the church’s priest. I looked at the record book. There are only two entries for you in that date range. There is your marriage to Joseph, in October 1200, and then the birth of your son six months later.”

  Sean removed the letter from his tunic without a word, holding it up for all to see. A murmur went through the crowd as he placed it on the altar by the contract.

  Cassandra’s eyes were sharp. “This woman would do anything to stop this wedding,” she sneered. “The letter must be a forgery.”

  “Let us talk about forgeries,” countered Morgan, her own gaze becoming serious. “Only days before you showed up on our doorstep, your previous ‘husband’, Eli Baker, was slain by a loan shark named Edward for defaulting on his debts. I imagine Eli was preparing to go to the sheriff, and needed to be silenced. Eli’s debts were created by your extravagant expenses.”

  “Who is this Eli that you speak of,” sniffed Cassandra dismissively.

  Roger stepped forward. “Eli was a friend of mine,” he ground out, his eyes shadowed. He withdrew a parchment from his tunic, unfolding it, holding it up before the crowd. “This is a marriage contract, dated August fifteenth, 1200, listing Cassandra as marrying Eli. It is exactly identical to Sean’s, with only the groom’s name being different.” He propped the contract up next to the first.

  Cassandra’s voice shot out hoarsely across the room. “She created that forgery, to bring me down!”

  There was a movement
to the right, and Morgan turned to see Eli’s parents standing, staring at Cassandra with challenging eyes. Adela’s voice was rich with sadness. “Eli was our son,” she stated. “We knew nothing of this marriage, but we had his jewelry box as a memento. When Morgan and Roger came to us, as a group we discovered the contract hidden within the box.” Her eyes swept the room. “I swear to you all that what Morgan says is true.” She paused for a moment, bringing her eyes to meet with Morgan’s. “I say a prayer for Morgan every evening, that she brought Edward to justice for what he had done.”

  Morgan blushed, nodding to the pair, then turned back to the crowd. “Cassandra had first arrived at Eli’s about thirteen months ago,” she announced. “Before then, she had spent three years with Giles; he was also convinced that they had married on August fifteenth, 1200.”

  The crowd’s murmurs began to increase as Peter stepped forward, somberly drawing out the contract, holding it around for all to see, propping it up besides the other two and the letter.

  Cassandra’s eyes shone brightly. “Another forgery,” she insisted. “Another set of lies from the drunken madwoman.”

  Alexandria and Matthew stood as one, staring at the blonde bride with shadowed eyes. Giles’s mother’s voice shook. “I put up with you in my home for three long years. You spent every pound he had; you drove our son to ruin. He was good to you, far more good than you deserved.”

  Matthew’s face wrinkled with sadness. “You took Daniel from me,” he moaned. “You took my son, and my beloved young student as well.”

  Daniel stepped out from within Lady Donna’s shadow. “Matthew!” He pressed the pillow with two rings against his chest, his face alight with fondness. He ran over to the couple, embracing them enthusiastically.

  Morgan smiled, a ray of hope shining within her. In this alone, she knew great good had been done. She was sure the couple would care for Daniel, whatever happened to his mother.

  Morgan turned to look out at the crowd. “Why did Cassandra go to Giles?” she called out, sensing their growing attention, their growing belief in her. “Did she not already have a husband, Joseph the innkeeper, who she married in 1200? Actually, Joseph died only days before she tracked down Giles.”

  Cassandra’s voice tinged with panic. “My husband died a tragic death, due to an accident,” she insisted. “You can ask anyone.”

  “Then ask us,” called out a deep challenge. Rip and Mike stood to the left, their leathery faces somber in the dark shadows. Rip’s voice rung through the chapel. “Joseph took good care of you and your son, and you treated him like dung. When he had his accident, as you call it, there was a puncture wound on his neck. The town only let you go because they wanted to be rid of you.”

  “I wanted to be rid of them,” snarled Cassandra, the charm sliding from her façade as if a rainstorm was washing away her coat of paint. “They could not see the glory that I deserved, the better life I should lead. They wanted me to settle, to make do with their shallow lives.”

  “You killed a good man,” challenged Rip, his voice tight.

  “I took out the trash,” replied Cassandra hotly. “That man was holding me back, keeping me from my true goals in life.” She sniffed. “Besides, I only married him because my son needed a father.”

  Thomas pressed himself up from his pew. “Your son had a father,” he stated somberly. “You had a father. He loved you dearly, and dedicated his life to caring for you. You repaid him by -”

  “Enough!” screamed Cassandra, her face going crimson with fury. She ran a hand through her hair, then in a heartbeat she was pressed up against Sean, a silver pin in her hand held tightly against his neck.

  “Everyone, back,” she ordered in a growl, her eyes sweeping the area. “Move or he dies. Believe me, this stuff works quickly and painfully.” Her gaze moved down to hold Matthew’s with bright challenge. “I know my herbs too, old man.”

  Roger and Peter’s hands dropped to the hilts of their swords, but they stepped back, moving several steps to stand against the wall.

  “Coll, where are you?” called out Cassandra, her eyes sweeping the gloom. In a moment the thin man had moved his way out from the throng, walking up with a chuckle to stand before her.

  “Not quite what you had planned on, eh my sweet,” he commented with a grin.

  “Shut up,” she snapped roughly. “Be useful for once and help me get out of here.”

  Coll moved to her other side, drawing his sword. “After you, my dearest,” he smiled.

  Morgan brought her eyes up to meet Sean’s. He was holding himself still beneath the poisoned pin, its tip only scant moments away from his skin. His eyes swept the crowd, now on its feet, then returned to meet hers, his stance calm, accepting.

  Morgan growled in fury, unwilling to give in so easily. She dropped her hand to the hilt of her dagger, easing down into a low stance. She would not let Cassandra leave with Sean as a hostage. She knew all too well that he would be discarded, dead, the moment they were free.

  Sean shook his head with the tiniest of movements, warning her off. Morgan knew he did not want her in danger, did not want her to risk herself, and she nearly launched herself into action anyway. A movement to her left reined her in. Roger and Peter were there, staring at her, their eyes cautioning her. She held their gaze for a long moment, then looked back to Sean again. He was being moved forward slowly by Cassandra and Coll, pressed down toward the aisle, toward the first pew.

  She had to think. She needed to finally act with a plan, not with her passions. Her eyes moved to the first pew, and in a flash she realized that Oliver and Christian were standing there, in the shadows, their swords drawn. Sean and his captors were coming right up alongside them. If Morgan could only distract them …

  A wide grin spread on her face, and she stood up straight, tossing off her cloak, putting her hands on her hips, throwing her hair back. Cassandra and Coll pulled to a stop, Cassandra’s eyes bright with suspicion.

  “What are you up to, you wench,” she snarled. “Get out of the way.”

  Morgan took an easy step forward, letting her hip roll, letting her gaze linger slowly down Coll’s thin form, moving back up to his eyes with seductive warmth. She ran her tongue along her lips slowly, smiling even wider.

  “I am coming with you, am I not, Coll?” she asked with a grin. “You said we would be partners, that you and I had something Cassandra could never match. You wanted my warm curves, not her cold calculations.”

  Coll’s eyes widened with appreciation, looking her over, then he glanced sideways at Cassandra, shaking his head at her horrified look.

  “Morgan is lying, Cassandra,” vowed Coll, his voice tight. “I would never -”

  “She is telling the truth,” gasped Cassandra, staring into his eyes in shock. “You betrayed me!”

  She spun, whipping her arm around, and she plunged the poisoned pin straight into his throat. He gasped, flailed at his neck with his hands, falling backwards with a strangled cry. In seconds Sean, Oliver, and Christian had grabbed Cassandra, holding her fast, while Roger and Peter ran forward to move alongside Coll.

  Roger ripped a swath of fabric off from his shirt, then carefully plucked the pin out of Coll’s neck, throwing it to one side. It did not make any difference. The man gargled piteously, his eyes flailing about in his head, and then he fell back, limp. His eyes rolled upwards toward his skull, and he was gone.

  Sheriff Laurence strode forward, looking down at Cassandra with somber eyes. She stared back at him wild-eyed, struggling against the men who held her, her voice strident. “I had to do it,” she insisted, wriggling to get free. “I deserved a better life! I was born to live in greatness. Why does no one understand that? You people are too stupid to understand why I naturally should be the owner of this keep!”

  “Come with me, and we can discuss your life at your leisure,” promised Laurence with a nod. Lady Donna’s soldiers fell in place around him, and together they escorted her out of the building. Another pair
of soldiers came forward to pick up Coll’s body and drag him out after her.

  Morgan turned, and Sean was there before her, gazing down at her with weary relief. In a heartbeat she was enveloped in his arms, pressing herself tightly against his broad chest, and he was holding her, embracing her, enfolding her as if he would never let her go. The room filled with applause, with cheers, and it seemed to go on forever. Relief swept over her in a liberating rush.

  It was over. It was all over.

  It was a long while before he stepped back from her, smiling down at her. He glanced sideways at the circle of friends who surrounded them. Morgan untangled herself from Sean, then stepped forward, embracing each man in turn, giving a tender hug to Christian, to Oliver, to Roger, and to Peter, overflowing with gratitude for their help and wisdom.

  Finally she stood before Sean again. He put out his hand, and she tentatively placed hers in his.

  His voice was rich with emotion. “We have known each other barely a month, and yet I feel that you are the woman I have waited for my entire life. I had illusions about superficial details, about hair color and skin tone. I understand now that the real measure of beauty, of connection, is far deeper than that.”

  “Oh, Sean …” she sighed, her voice caught between desire and hesitancy. She trusted him, she cared for him, she wanted him by her side – and yet the thought of marriage still loomed as a danger in her mind. It had all happened so quickly. Barely one month.

  He saw the look, raised a hand to her cheek, tenderly stroking it. “Trust me,” he whispered softly. Then he turned to Lady Donna, who was watching the couple with a look of bright realization in her eyes.

  Sean gave a wry smile. “Lady Donna, I am sorry that we had to deceive you before. I hope you understand now that it was necessary.”

  “Yes, of course,” agreed Lady Donna, her voice hushed. Her eyes turned to Morgan. “My dear, I am so sorry, for the things I said, for the things I felt. I had no idea what you were going through.”