Chapter Nine
Richard ducked back behind a bush,watching the cathedral. He reached down and adjusted the cross in his waistband. The golden cross, embedded with gems. He had thought it was rare, until he saw the exact same cross hanging from the bishop’s neck. A smaller version, but exactly the same. The fact that the bishop had the same cross as he did sent shivers across his neck. It couldn’t be a good sign. But that was not why he had come. He came to watch and see if he could find any of the boys.
He looked up at a cross high above the angled rooftop. A shadow against the gray night sky. A beacon.
Pain burned the back of his mind. Why would his head hurt if this wasn’t related to his past? His fingers wrapped tightly around the concealed cross. The throbbing in his mind became the beat of a drum. He glanced up at the tall spire above his head, at the cross there. Suddenly, a blinding flash of white pain overcame him, and he saw another cross. He heard distant shouting. He saw blood against a white cloth. A broken sword.
He doubled over, holding his head.
In his mind, his fingers were wrapped around the hilt of the sword! The broken sword.
The door of the cathedral opened, and the bishop stepped out.
Richard was wracked with pain. He watched through a white haze of agony as horses were brought out for the bishop and the three guards that followed him.
He winced, squeezing his eyes to slits. The bishop and guards mounted the horses. And then, Simon walked out of the cathedral.
Shock filled Richard. He glanced back down the road toward Goodmont. Mercy! He stumbled toward his horse, but a blinding flash of lightning pierced his mind with such agony that he leaned against the horse for support and could go no further. He groaned, pressing his fingers against his eyes. A broken sword. Blood. Blood against the white robe. The cross he held lying in the blood. The red liquid surrounded it in a frame.
Such anguish ripped through his mind that he fell to his knees. But the memories wouldn’t stop. He remembered. He remembered it all.
He was a murderer.
Oh, he hated him. Archbishop Thomas Becket was the reason his friend William could not marry the woman he loved. They had been connected by kinship relationship somewhere far down the line. She was a double second cousin of William, but Becket had not granted the couple a dispensation from affinity so they could marry in the church. William had died of a broken heart shortly after. It was all Becket’s fault!
As Richard and his friends, William de Tracy, Reginald FitzUrse, and Hugh de Morville marched up to Canterbury cathedral, that was all he could think of. His dead friend, William. That and they were following the king’s order to rid him of the priest.
After two monks opened the door to the cloister, Reginald shouldered his way in, and the knights followed.
Long wooden tables lined the hall, each filled with monks who had stopped eating to stare at the knights.
“Where is Thomas Becket?” Reginald demanded.
Not one of the monks said a word.
Richard stepped forward. “Where is the traitor?” he growled.
“We bear a message from King Henry!” Reginald added. “Speak up!”
Richard grimaced. The only message he knew of was a command from King Henry to rid him of this troublesome priest.
Finally, a man dressed in white robes stood from one of the tables. He lifted his chin. He had the confidence of leadership about him. “I am here, FitzUrse,” Archbishop Thomas Becket said. “Why do you disturb these monks at mealtime?”
“By the king’s orders, you are to return with us to England,” Reginald commanded.
“I do not answer to the king, but to One in higher authority. I will not return to England.”
The impudence! Richard snarled. Treason! Who did he think he was? He had heard of Becket’s attitude but thought surely he would make the right choice when faced with four armed knights.
“You defy the king?” William asked, shocked.
“I answer only to one rule. His rule.”
Reginald stepped forward. “All who are on the side of the king, hinder the archbishop! Do not let him leave!” He whirled and stormed from the hall.
Richard moved quickly after him. “We’re not leaving.”
“No.”
