Still, there was no need to panic.All she had to do was channel a wee bit of her convent courtesy.
“Gentlemen,” she said with a welcoming smile, “I’m so glad ye’ve joined me.I heard ye followin’, and I wondered if ye meant to accompany me.As I’m sure ye know, the woods are full o’ danger, and I’d be quite grateful for your protection.I’m Lady Aillenn Bhallach,” she said, holding out a hand, “and ye are?”
The thin one was charmed and befuddled at once.“Tom, m’lady.Tom—”
His companion cuffed him.“Don’t tell her your name.We’re not here to make friends.”
Properly chided, the thin man shrunk back.
Black-beard snarled, “We’re here for somethin’ a wee bit more serious.”
“More serious?”She eyed them with innocent puzzlement.“Oh, are ye…?”She let her voice trail off, then lowered it to a whisper.“Don’t fret.If ye’re poachin’ or gatherin’ wood in the king’s forest, I won’t breathe a word.”
“Gatherin’ wood in the forest?”the black-beard mocked.Then he sobered.“Nay, wench.’Tis your silver we’re gatherin’.”
“Oh!”she exclaimed.“Well, that’s a shame.”She clucked her tongue in disappointment.“Ye see, the silver I have is bound for Scone Priory.”
“Not anymore,” the thin one scoffed, hoping to get back into his fellow’s good graces.
“We don’t care where ’tis bound,” the black-beard said.
“Right,” said the thin one.
“What I mean to say,” she gently explained, “is the silver isn’t mine to give ye.It belongs to God.”
“What?”the black-beard barked.
The thin one’s shoulders drooped.“God?”He lowered his dagger.
“I’m afraid so,” she said.“If ye take this silver, ye’ll be stealin’ from God Himself.”
“That’s shite,” the black-beard muttered.
She shook her head.“’Tis one thing to steal aman’ssilver.’Tis quite another to abscond with wealth intended for the Holy Church.”
The thin one gasped.
“Don’t listen to her,” the black-beard ordered.
“But what if she’s—”
“Silver is silver,” he groused.“It all spends the same.Besides, what use do ye think God has for coin?”
Eve had to admit he had a point.According to Scripture, money was the root of all evil.
“The Prior will do God’s work,” she explained, “and deliver alms to the poor.”
“Or stash it in his own coffers,” the black-beard spat.
“And piss on the poor,” the thin one added.
Eve could see these men had had bad experiences with the clergy.And sadly, she knew their cynicism wasn’t unfounded.There were indeed corrupt and greedy men in the church, like the one she’d shot in effigy.Still, she wondered if she might restore the thieves’ hope and change their path.
“There are some wayward priests, to be sure,” she admitted.“But Prior Isaac is decent enough.If ye abandon your sinful ways and come with me to Scone, I’ll introduce ye to the prior.I’m sure ye’ll find salva—”
Where the third man came from, Eve couldn’t guess.Suddenly a figure sprang out of the trees and bowled over the black-bearded thief.Then, with startling efficiency, he tore the dagger from the man’s hand and threw it, embedding it in the trunk of a pine several yards down the road.
Stunned, the black-beard struggled to his feet.With a whimpered curse, he limped along the path to try to retrieve his dagger, abandoning his partner without a backward glance.
