Page 37

He gave her a somber nod. “I’m right sorry over what has happened this night, my lady.”

Tears threatened again, but she forced them back and faced the door. Moments later, one of the stableboys entered, leading a brown charger. Before the door closed behind him, Catrin guided Seren past the unfamiliar horse and into the inner ward. Staying in the shadows, she kept Seren moving at a sedate walk until they had circumvented the soldiers and crossed the outer ward. At the gate, a solitary guard approached. She gave him a token nod of acknowledgment but did not stop. He must have recognized her because he immediately stepped aside, and with the road to Llanfaes ahead of her, she touched her heels to Seren’s sides and gave him his head.

The smell of smoke intensified as she rode, and before long, she could hear the crackle of flames and see the flickering orange light through the branches of the trees that lined her way. She passed several townspeople. Some were on foot; others were in wagons loaded down with sacks and barrels. The sense of urgency was unmistakable, and she did not rein Seren in until they reached the final bend in the road.

Sliding out of the saddle, Catrin tied Seren’s reins around a tree branch. A few other horses stood nearby, their eyes shining in the darkness, their legs shifting restlessly.

“Be a good fellow,” she whispered, giving Seren a quick pat. “You will be safe here.” Then she picked up her skirts and ran.

The moment she turned the corner, the heat hit her like a wall, and she staggered to a halt. The refectory was completely engulfed in flames. Smoke was billowing out of the windows of the friars’ living quarters and seeping through the chapel roof. Men and women swarmed around the burning structure, flitting in and out of the fire’s light as they frantically beat back the flames with sacks. Over by the well, a line had formed, and people were passing buckets of water to the men standing near the chapel. The crackling conflagration overwhelmed the hissing of doused flames, but the townspeople’s relentless efforts continued.

Moving away from the front of the friary, Catrin hurried around the building until she reached a wagon parked near the entrance to the friars’ accommodation. As she drew closer, the ghostly figures milling around the vehicle became more distinct, and she saw two men break away from a small group to rush to the aid of another who was half leading, half carrying a robed man out of the building.

“Take him to the wagon,” the man cried. “He’s alive, but he needs clean air.”

The two friars who had come to his aid put their arms around their brother and walked him slowly to the waiting wagon. The rescuer tore a wet cloth from around his nose and mouth, placed his hands on his knees, and dropped his head, his breathing ragged.

“Are they all removed?” Catrin heard the panic in her voice. “The friars? Are they all accounted for?”

The man nodded without looking up. “That was the last of them.”

A brown-robed man brushed past her and reached out to help the rescuer. “Come, Ianto. You have saved many lives today, but it must not be at the expense of your own.”

Catrin stepped closer. “Brother Noel?”

The friar turned, his eyes widening when he recognized her.

“L . . . Lady Catrin.” He coughed, still trying to clear his lungs of the fumes. “You should not be here.”

Catrin ignored him. “Is everyone safe?”

Brother Noel shook his head helplessly. “I pray it is so. The men from town have searched every pallet. No one remains within the living quarters.” He looked over his shoulder at the wagon. “Those who were recently rescued are resting still, but some of the brothers have gone to help fight the fire.”

He coughed again and turned his attention to the exhausted man beside him. Catrin crossed the short distance to the wagon. Half a dozen friars sat within. Most had their eyes closed, but whether that was due to exhaustion or prayer, Catrin could not tell. Three more lay on the grass beside the wagon, and two women were attending to wounds on the friars’ hands and faces.

“Brother Robert?” Checking the wagon once more, Catrin called his name again, this time with more urgency. “Brother Robert.”

“He’s gone.” One of the women who’d been tending the friars rose to her feet. “He said something about getting his pages and then disappeared.”

His pages? Understanding came with terrifying clarity. The pocket Bibles. That had to be what Brother Robert had meant. But they were stored in the small room near the nave of the chapel. Catrin swung around and gazed with horror at the flames licking their way across the chapel roof. Surely he had not risked entering the inferno to claim them.

“What of Brother John?” she asked. Perhaps the other friar knew where to find Brother Robert.

The woman squinted at her through the darkness, but Catrin’s cloak and fluent Welsh hid her identity. “They left together.”

They’d gone after their manuscripts. Catrin ran all the way to the front of the chapel. The doors were open still, and men were hauling pails of water from a barrel beside the doorstep. She moved closer. The heat was scorching.

Unhooking her cloak, she tossed it aside and approached the man currently refilling his bucket. “Brother Robert and Brother John.” She shouted to be heard over the roaring flames. “Have you seen them?”

He shook his head.

“They said they were going to retrieve something from the chapel.”

“’Tis not possible,” he shouted back. “The fire has spread too far.”

A second man burst out the door. “There’s someone within the nave,” he yelled.

Tossing his pail aside, the man she’d been talking to raised the wet rag around his neck over the lower portion of his face and raced into the burning building. Catrin bent and lifted the lower edge of her gown and kirtle to expose her chemise. With strength borne of desperation, she yanked at the linen fabric, tearing it along one seam. Pulling hard, she tore off a long, six-inch-wide strip and dunked it into the barrel of water. Wrapping it around her nose and mouth, she tied it at the back of her head. Then she followed after the men.