She might help him to choose. Aye, it was her blessing to bestow.
Bartholomew recognized this impulse as the right one. Should the first beam of sunlight to touch the altar land upon the sword—the sword given to him by Gaston—he would remain to defend Gaston’s legacy. Should the sunlight touch the reliquary first, he would choose greater risk and uncertain reward, the path of justice for his lost father. A martyr like Euphemia, after all, had become a saint by following her faith and holding to her convictions, no matter how uncertain the outcome.
Aye, Bartholomew resolved, it would be so.
His heart beat a little faster as the sky lightened yet more beyond the windows. Finally, a shaft of sunlight pierced the shadows, painting the west wall of the chapel a rosy gold. The sun rose higher and the beam of light eased closer to the altar. Bartholomew prayed as he watched its progress. He could not guess where it would land.
The sunlight was slanting over the altar when he heard a footstep outside the portal. The priest spoke softly to another, probably Gaston, and the key was turned in the lock. The sunlight touched the corner of the altar cloth in that moment, and still he could not anticipate whether reliquary or sword would be illuminated first.
The priest murmured a prayer from the back of the chapel. His soft footsteps came closer, the tread of a knight’s boots following behind. Bartholomew watched the sunlight move slowly, nigh holding his breath.
The flare of light when the sun touched the gold was so bright as to blind him. The reliquary shone so vividly that it might have been ablaze, and truly, Bartholomew felt as if the saint’s will set his own blood afire.
He would ride for Haynesdale, determine the truth of its situation, and strive to see his father avenged.
Justice it would be.
No matter what obstacle stood in his path.
It would be his first quest as a knight.
Saturday, January 16, 1188
Feast Day of the Five Friars Minor (Saints Berardus, Peter, Accursius, Adjutus, and Otto)
Chapter One
Haynesdale in Northumberland, England
Anna was on her belly in the snow, watching the party that camped in the forest she knew as well as the lines in her own hand. She was perfectly still, her crossbow loaded and hidden beneath the sheepskin pelt that disguised her figure from view. She might have been chilled, if her heart had not been pounding so hard in anticipation. Little Percy was nestled beside and partly beneath her, his eyes bright as he awaited her instruction.
They were both dressed in simple dark garb that would blend with the shadows. Anna had bound her long hair beneath a cap and wore a man’s chausses and boots. She liked that she could run more quickly in such garb, and that she oft gained liberties when perceived to be a boy that might be denied her as a woman.
It had been months since a party had ventured along this road, and longer yet since one had been fool enough to take their rest within the forest. It had been a hard winter and would likely be a harder spring. There were rumors of new taxes and tithes, though the harvest had not been a good one, and Anna would not be the sole one hungry.
In truth, they had expected a party to ride in the other direction, away from Haynesdale keep, for the baron always paid his taxes to the king after the Yule. Well aware of the thieves in his forests, Sir Royce always sent out scouts the day before the wagon laden with coin left for the king’s hall. Anna and Percy were watching for that sign.
Instead, they had discovered a party of knights riding towards Haynesdale. It was most unusual. Sir Royce was not a frequent host. Anna debated the merit of summoning some of the others, but decided she and Percy could manage alone.
This party’s wealth was clearly considerable. Their horses were remarkable beasts, so fine that Anna knew they would be readily recognized in any town’s market she might try to sell them—or even en route to those towns. She would have to forgo the temptation of the horses. Fortunately the palfreys were heavily burdened with saddle bags and parcels.
What did these men carry?
The men were armed more heavily and more richly than was typical in this corner of Christendom. They wore mail, each and every one of them, not merely boiled leather jerkins. Their boots were tall and polished, and they had helmets of fine design.
Who were they?
There were two Templar knights in the party, their white tabards adorned with red crosses that identified their order. Both of them had a squire, and both squires slept atop their knight’s belongings. Anna had little interest in them. They would have good swords and sturdy hauberks, but would have to be killed to be parted from those prizes. Beyond that, the wealth of a Templar was in his destrier, and she had already decided against taking the horses.
There were two other knights, who appeared to be of an age with each other. Both were handsome enough, if she had possessed an affection for their kind. One had russet hair and had a pair of squires himself. Anna had heard snippets of conversation and enough of his words to conclude that he was from the north and returning home to Scotland from a voyage afar. The majority of the bundles belonged to him, by all appearances, and he had spoken of his betrothed.
Gifts for a lady, then. Anna would guess he brought cloth for rich garments, as the packages were too numerous to all contain jewels. If there were jewels, they would likely be hidden on his person. He looked young and virile, and she was not certain she could best him in a fight.
It would be harder to sell jewels than horses, to be sure. What she wanted was coin, and food.
The other knight had darker hair and was more quiet than his fellows. He alone had a short beard, which gave him a rakish air. Indeed, Anna had feared more than once that he had discerned her in the shadows, though she knew it could not be so. There was something more intense and alert about him, to be sure, and Anna trusted her instinct to leave him and his squire be.
Finally, there was one more warrior, an older man with a little silver at his temples. A Scotsman, for he wore the plaid wool so favored by his kind. He carried two saddlebags and Anna had noticed that he kept a hand upon one of them.
