Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me (10 page)

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.”

A
n 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, t
hey 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 w
ooden 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 beginni
ng 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.

“Th
at 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.