The man handed it to Jason hilt first.
“Show me what you’ve got, lad.”
Jason held the dagger out, arm trembling as his father and the men had shown him. He made a few thrusts before his arm sagged and he gave the blade back.
“What do you say, Jason?”
He scrunched up his nose. “Merci.”
The man nodded and went on his way.
Lucy ruffled his hair. “You were most fierce. Your father will be proud.”
He wrapped his arms around her skirts and her heart clenched, knowing in six or so years he would leave Blackford to foster with another family.
Mabel clapped her hands together. “Come along now, lads.” She looked at Lucy, waiting.
With a kiss on top of Peter’s head, she handed him over. “I’lltake them for a walk before dinner so I don’t interrupt their afternoon nap.”
“As you say, lady.” Mabel settled Peter in her arms as Jason trailed after them, babbling about daggers and swords.
Lucy was contemplating if she should try working on her embroidery when a servant called her name.
“My lady, Father John has arrived.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there in a moment.” Lucy was more than happy to leave the embroidery for another day.
She strode out into the courtyard, grateful she’d had the hem of her dress raised so it wouldn’t drag the ground.
The man was young, dressed in a simple, ankle-length black robe tied at the waist. Over top of the robe he wore a knee-length black over-tunic with long sleeves.
“Welcome to Blackford Castle, Father John. We have been expecting your arrival.”
The priest had a tonsure, the top of his head shaved in the shape of a ring. She remembered the steward telling her the tonsure denoted clerical status or something. She’d been too busy wondering if his head was cold with the bare spot to pay attention. At least the cloak had a hood so he could cover his head.
He inclined his head. “Thank you, lady. My father sent me after hearing your priest passed. I am the third son of the Earl of Lockwood, John Lockwood, at your service.”
She swallowed a small laugh that threatened to escape as she thought of the movie Robin Hood and wondered if this priest traveled with bees and made his own mead like the one in the movie?
Leaves of amber, orange and red swirled across the stone courtyard in the breeze as Lucy pulled her cloak tight, FatherJohn walking next to her as they strode from the courtyard to the chapel, enjoying the crisp day.
He told her of his upbringing and his studies. The sunlight hit the silver cross he wore around his neck, sending a shimmer across the stones. The priest was clean-shaven with a pleasant face and demeanor, unlike the village priest who couldn’t stand Lucy and her odd ideas.
When Lucy looked down, she frowned, noticing that the black shoes he wore were worn thin and caked with mud. He would be well taken care of here at Blackford, with lodging, meals, and clothing provided for him.
Father John was reserved and quiet, yet she could tell he was excited to be here, to have his own chapel and souls to look after.
They passed through the gardens, turned to the right, and took the path that led to the small stone chapel.
“After you.” Lucy stood back to let him go first. Though modest, the small chapel boasted a heavy wooden door with an iron handle in the shape of a cross, and was beautiful inside with its stone floors, two carved columns, and stone altar. The single window was a large stained glass panel that painted the floor in a jeweled quilt of light.
He took a breath, admiring the space, then turned to her, spots of color high on his cheeks.
“I do not … that is… I do not mean…”
Honestly, she knew what he was thinking. Lucy rolled her eyes. “Go on then, spit it out.”
“My lady, I do not mean to overstep, but we should invite the villagers so that they may see you attend church.”
