Although the priest was oblivious to her presence, his eyes closed as he continued to bray and jerk his hips, Aveline immediately caught sight of her. Quickly putting a finger to her lips to caution the child to silence, Laoghaire stealthily approached the priest from behind. Outraged that any man would treat a child in such a cruel and base manner, she curbed her natural instinct to take the knife to the priest’s privy parts. Instead, she put the blade to his throat and pressed firmly enough to garner his attention, but not so forcibly that she drew blood.
“Release yer hold on Aveline or there will be blood,” she threatened. “And if ye discharge yer seed, I’ll kill ye where ye stand.”
At the sound of her voice, Father Giroldus’s head instantly swung in her direction. The priest’s thick lips parted with shock and his eyes went owl-like as he openly gaped at her. “What are you doing here?” he rasped, clearly stunned to find her standing there, knife in hand.
Laoghaire removed the knife from his throat, although she still maintained a firm grip on the handle, ready to use the blade if need be. “I think the better question is: What in the name of all that is holy are ye doing with this child?” As she spoke, Laoghaire used her free hand to take hold of Aveline by the arm and pull the young girl behind her, shielding her from the brute as best she could.
Quickly collecting himself, the priest’s heavy jowls shuddered with indignation. “I am schooling this child in her Christian catechism.”
“Ye are abusing her innocent nature and forcing her to perform an abomination!”
In the wake of her blunt and damning accusation, Father Giroldus’s face contorted into a mask of naked fury.
“You are gravely mistaken, milady. The chapel is dimly lit and thus your eyes have deceived you.” While his reply was issued in a modulated voice, the portly cleric nevertheless glared belligerently at her, managing to display a surprising amount of gumption.
“I know what I saw,” Laoghaire retorted, refusing to retract her accusation.
“He made me touch him,” Aveline said, her young voice quavering as she spoke.
“The child lies!”
Laoghaire thrust her knife at the priest, coming within a hairsbreadth of his throat. “Ye may wear the cowl, but that won’t stop me from running ye through.” Then, turning toward Aveline, she put a comforting hand on the child’s narrow shoulder. “Has he done this before?”
When Aveline shook her head, Laoghaire released a heartfelt sigh of relief.
“Ye have nothing to fear, Aveline. I will deal with the priest,” Laoghaire assured her. “Now, I want ye to run to the keep and find yer mother.”
Tears in her eyes, Aveline wordlessly turned and ran down the aisle toward the wooden doors at the other end of the chapel.
Once the child had taken her leave,Laoghaire turned to the priest and said, “Remove yer habit.”
Father Giroldus cackled, refusing to comply with the order. “And you dare to accusemeof wantonness.”
“Aye, I do accuse ye,” Laoghaire replied, punctuating the avowal with a forceful nod. “And because ye have committed this terrible crime, I intend to geld ye.” Cocking her head to one side, she eyed the priest’s voluminous robe. “As ye can imagine, my job will be made easier if ye aren’t swathed in so much cloth.”
Father Giroldus’s lips thinned, and he stared at her with obvious disdain. “You are naught but a lowly female,” he snarled. “You are the daughter of Eve, that wanton temptress who sinned so grievously that our Savior had to spill His own blood to atone for the damnation she forced upon the whole of mankind. And like the first woman, you have—”
“What is the meaning of this?” an unseen person demanded to know in a booming voice.
Laoghaire swung her gaze toward the center aisle, taken aback to see Galen striding toward them. Dressed entirely in black, his eyes the color of honed steel and his hair as dark as a raven’s wing, he cut a formidable figure. What is more, with the severe play of light and shadow upon his face, he looked very much like the Dark Knight he’d once been, the most feared warrior in all of Christendom.
The priest nervously cleared his throat. “Allow me to explain, my lord. Because of the chapel’s dim lighting, the countess mistakenly thought—”
“Father Giroldus committed a vile act upon yer godchild, young Aveline,” Laoghaire asserted over the top of the priest’s voice. “Not only was this act depraved in nature, but for a man to force an innocent child to intimately fondle him is a violation of God’s law.”
No sooner had she leveled the charge against the priest than Laoghaire saw an agonized expression flit across Galen’s face. In the next instant it vanished without trace, replaced by a pitiless glare. Lowering her gaze, she took note of the way in which Galen purposefully gripped the hilt of his sword. She surmised that it would take little incentive for him to unsheathe the deadly weapon.
“Where is the child now?” Galen asked brusquely.
“I did not want Aveline to remain in the priest’s loathsome presence, so I sent her from the chapel,” Laoghaire informed him. “She is now with her mother.”
Galen nodded his approval. Then, in a terrifyingly calm voice, he said to Father Giroldus,“’Tis a very grave crime to abuse an innocent child, and I am ready now to pass judgment upon you.”
“But I did nothing wrong!” Father Giroldus shrieked, his earlier bravado weakening in the face of Galen’s steadfast resolve. “Lady Angus has falsely accused me of a heinous crime. ’Tisshewho is in the wrong, not I!”
Galen’s expression darkened. “You dare to accuse my lady wife of being a liar?”
The priest made a rough, croaking noise, the sort of sound that one makes when a piece of meat gets stuck in the gullet. “Nay, I do not. But given the lateness of the hour, the chapel is full of dark shadows and . . . and she thought she saw something which she did not actually see. I ask you, my lord: Should I be made to suffer because shemade a mistake?” As he spoke, the priest pointed an accusing finger at Laoghaire.
