How had Bartholomew’s party come to carry this prize? Surely they had not stolen it?
Anna watched her breath fog the surface of the gold, knowing she had never seen any thing so fine as this. She bent and touched her lips to one large amethyst. She could smell the scent of roses, which was said to emanate from holy relics, and felt awe to be in the presence of Saint Euphemia herself. Anna prayed in truth then, that Bartholomew and his companions were not thieves, that they might succeed in freeing Percy, that they might all escape unscathed.
Father Ignatius leaned closer.
“Lady Anna, are you certain you have confided all of your concerns?” he asked softly. “You seem most troubled and I would be of assistance.”
“I am much recovered, Father. Thank you.”
And Anna made the mistake of looking up.
She met Father Ignatius’ gaze and saw that he had recognized her. He frowned and her mouth went dry.
“Anna?” he asked, clearly astonished.
“Father Ignatius,” she managed to say, an entreaty in her tone. She felt her cheeks heat as she flushed in guilt.
Before she could defend herself or request his support, the door creaked at the other end of the chapel. Father Ignatius straightened, and the door was flung wide just before Royce’s voice filled the chapel.
“What is this?” the baron demanded. “I told you to keep that secured!”
Anna heard his footsteps as he strode toward her and she closed her eyes, praying for salvation in truth.
*
Itwashere.
Bartholomew followed Royce into the chapel, relief flooding through him at the sight of the reliquary. His first reaction was profound relief that the reliquary had been located.
His second was the realization that something had gone awry. The priest was staring at Anna, as if he had seen a ghost. Anna was utterly motionless, apparently frozen in place.
There was only one possible explanation: the priest had recognized her.
The priest took a cautious step backward, his gaze still fixed upon Anna, and opened his mouth.
Bartholomew had to do something to keep him from uttering the truth.
“Zounds!” he cried heartily. “What a prize you have hidden in this place!” Royce turned to look at him. Bartholomew cast up his hands and kept talking. “What a marvel! Sir Royce, you are indeed blessed to have the custody of such a treasure. No wonder your estate prospers as it does!” He laughed heartily. “We should all have the blessings of the saints upon our worldly deeds.” He marched forward and dropped to his knees before the priest, narrowing his eyes as if he read the inscription. “Saint Eu….”
“Euphemia,” the priest said. “It contains a relic of Saint Euphemia.” He cleared his throat, his gaze sliding to Anna again. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head minutely. The priest frowned.
The sooner that man was left alone, the better.
Bartholomew kissed the reliquary, stood, then genuflected, his hand locking around Anna’s elbow. “Come, my dear wife, you have had a long day and are in dire need of your sleep. Your morning prayers will come soon enough.”
He gave the priest a hard look and to his relief that man seemed to have composed himself.
“Sir Royce, surely your lady wife awaits you?” Bartholomew continued in the same jovial manner. To keep Royce from speaking to the priest, he seized the baron’s elbow and urged him from the chapel. He set a brisk pace, compelling both Anna and their host to make haste across the bailey.
And away from both priest and chapel.
“What a day this has been!” he enthused. “We shall sleep well this night, my lady, thanks to our gracious host. Sir Royce, I must thank you for your hospitality. Never have I seen such a marvel as this keep, or that sacred treasure you hold in trust. You should send word to the king that he might come and worship in your chapel, for surely he would be glad to cast his eyes upon such a prize.”
“Perhaps…” Royce began but Bartholomew interrupted him.
“Of course, you might be concerned that such a marvel would tempt him, and so it might tempt many a man. I would be so bold as to suggest that you invite the archbishop as well as the king, along with all their retinues, that they might each ensure the other’s good conduct. You might host quite the festivity at Haynesdale.” He gave a laugh as if anticipating that event with joy. “Indeed, my dear wife, we might have to return to Haynesdale for it. You have not yet seen me joust and I do not doubt that the king would appreciate such entertainment.”
“I do not think,” Royce managed to utter at the base of the stairs.
