He thought about the chapel, about Andrew standing by the altar at that very moment. Then he thought of all the others in there too. Most of the castle would attend the service, packing the place full, all eager to hear the blessing of the bishop. They would all be killed too.
He felt a sudden lurch in his stomach. He’d been so focused on getting rid of Andrew that he hadn’t even considered that. All the old people, the children too. They’d all be in there. And then there was the bishop. What if the bishop died?
Would he go to hell for causing the death of one of God’s own men? The thought made him fear for his soul. He’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have done it.
“Are we there yet?” Beth asked as he stopped dead.
“Aye,” he replied quietly, his mind elsewhere.
“I see no crack,” she said, squinting as she looked up. “Are you sure it was here.”
“Aye,” he said again, barely listening. It was too late to do anything about the chapel. If he told them all to leave they’d know he was the one who removed the falsework. They’d ask why and he could think of no plausible explanation other than the truth.
Then he heard another set of horns. If the bishop had already arrived who was that being heralded? He looked up at the path leading to the castle gateway, his heart leaping into his mouth. It was his father and retinue.
“I’m going back to the service,” Beth was saying but her voice came from far away. Had his father come to see the chapel being blessed? Was he about to kill his own pa alongside Andrew?
“Are you coming?”
He didn’t move.
“I’ll see you in there then.” She walked away, leaving him frozen to the spot in the earthworks, with no earthly idea what to do.
