“I am deeply sorry to hear it,” Nairna said, wrapping up the window. “For I know such a window would bring comfort to many in their prayers. I had hoped that you might wish to commission a window for the new kirk you’re building. Our glass artist could create a window of any size, with any Biblical scene that might inspire others to faith.”
She nodded to Bram. “We’ll continue on our journey to Locharr, and perhaps the baron will want the window for his private chapel.”
Laren squeezed Bram’s hand, seeing thirty pennies disappear with Nairna’s words.
“Wait.” The abbot reached for the window. “Let me see it again. It might be that I could obtain some funds from the bishop. And…” his gaze focused upon Bram “…if you believe it’s possible to build larger windows, it would make our chapel a more fitting site for the relic we’ve just acquired.” The abbot blessed himself, saying, “It’s a splinter from the Holy Rood.”
Laren made the sign of the cross, as was expected of her. And though most pilgrims would be overwhelmed by the thought of such a relic, her instincts warned that any splinter of wood could look like another. How would they know if it really was the True Cross or not?
But then, such thoughts were blasphemous. She shouldn’t let her doubts affect the faith of others.
She cleared her throat and interrupted, “Father, seeing as the kirk will be dedicated to the Holy Rood, would you desire a window representing the crucifixion?”
She could envision a three-paneled window with saints on either side, and an image of Christ. Already she was imagining a deep gold glass to create a halo effect, but she would need a special dark enamel to create the shadows of a face. The idea intrigued her, for she’d never tried it yet.
“Who is this?” the abbot asked Bram, and Laren recognized the censure in his voice. This was not a man who would believe a woman capable of creating glass, much less a window that would inspire the people.
“I am the…sister of the glass artist,” she lied. “He couldn’t come, but he wanted me to answer any questions you might have, if you decided upon the commission.”
Nairna sent her a warning look, but the abbot didn’t seem upset by her lie. Instead, he looked pleased by it. “I would like to know how your brother achieves such wondrous colors.”
Laren met her sister-in-law’s gaze and remembered Nairna’s words.Tell them what they want to hear.
“He prays and fasts before he does any melt,” she lied again, and offered, “Sometimes he is rewarded by beautiful colors in the glass, but there are times when the melts fail. It humbles him,” she explained and saw Nairna roll her eyes.
“I believe we should settle upon our business now,” Nairna interrupted. “If you wish to purchase this glass for your brethren, the price is one hundred pieces of silver.”
Only the pressure of Bram’s hand upon hers kept Laren from screeching at the unholy price Nairna had demanded.
The abbot laughed at her. “You must be mad.”
Withinanotherquarterofan hour, Nairna had managed to scrape seventy-five silver coins from the abbot, plus an additional fifty pieces to cover the cost of glass supplies. The remaining hundred and fifty coins for the commissioned window would be paid in stages. The final amount would be given upon delivery of the glass.
“You’ll need to take the measurements,” Nairna said, nodding to Bram.
Laren handed him a spool of thick yarn, but the abbot declined, saying, “I will send one of our priests with the measurements, once we’ve determined the proportions of the chapel. He will also bring a sketch of what we have decided for the subject of the window.”
With the matter settled, Bram thanked the abbot, and Laren joined Nairna in bidding farewell. As they departed with the coins, she sent a last look towards the abbot and caught him smiling at the glass.
She looked away, hardly able to breathe. Her heart pounded so hard, her ears roaring, until she thought she might faint. One hundred and twenty-five pieces of silver. Because of her glass.
By the saints, she couldn’t believe it. She could barely manage to hold her thoughts together as they rode away. Nairna and Bram had ridden ahead of her, while she continued behind them. As she rode through the valley, she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.
The wind stung at her eyes, and she followed them for several miles more, before Nairna stopped to wait for her. When she caught up, the woman threw her hands up in the air and let out a celebratory scream.
Laren couldn’t laugh or join Nairna the way she wanted to. Instead, the shock of success left her speechless. She hadn’t truly believed the abbot would want her glass or that he would find her work worthy of paying for it.
“What’s wrong?” Nairna asked, coming up beside her. “You should be happy.”
She took her hand and Laren tried to brave a smile. “It’s just…too much. I can’t believe he would pay such a sum for a simple pane of glass.”
“It’s not simple,” Nairna insisted. “And when everyone finds out that you were responsible for bringing in such wealth, they—“
“No.” She cut Nairna off. Though she’d have to tell Alex about their success, she wasn’t ready to be put on display before the rest of the clan. Trepidation seeped into her veins, freezing up her courage. “I have to talk to Alex about it first.”
Nairna squeezed her hand. “You’ll be the one to tell him what we’ve done this day. He’ll be proud of you, I know.”
Laren wanted so badly to believe it. But as they began the journey home, her worries continued to grow.
