Courted Sanctuary

Courted Sanctuary

  By Tara K. Young

  Copyright 2012 Tara Kristen Young

  Glossary

  Crone - A Mintharch priestess who is recognized for her exceptional skill at a particular task and instructs the Goddess Maids in those tasks. There is only ever one crone for a particular task at a time.

  disabitato - An undesirable and sparsely populated area in medieval Rome. It was often considered lawless and one chronicler claimed that half of Barbarossa's army died there in 1155 due to natural hazards.

  Goddess Maid - An initiate priestess who is currently in training. All Mintharch girls have to go through a period as Goddess Maids in their early teens.

  Mother - The Mintharch equivalent of a professional at a particular task. The Mothers assist the Crones in their work. Only two women can hold the position of mother for a particular task at a time.

  Onager - A Roman catapult that was used in a weaker form in the Middle Ages. It had a fixed bowl instead of a sling and did not have the range of a trebuchet.

  Solar - The medieval equivalent to a large bedroom but could be used for more than sleeping and almost always housed several people.

  Stare Mesto - The old merchant city that eventually merged with neighbouring towns to form modern day Prague.

  The Borgo - The town in Rome that held St. Peter's. It was a destination of pilgrimage and held made monasteries and even inns to accommodate pilgrims from all social levels.

  Trebuchet - A medieval siege engine similar to a catapult but using a sling to carry the projectile instead of a bucket and a counterweight system to increase the force of the throw. Trebuchets were expensive. They had to be custom made for a particular use and could not be built ahead of time in a different location. Cheaper and smaller siege enginges were used if at all possible.

  Woad - A plant-derived dye used to make blue before Indigo became easily obtainable in Europe in the Fifteenth Century. Its use was highly regulated due to the potent and caustic smell it produced.

  Weld - A plant that was processed to produce a yellow dye that did not run or fade as easily as other alternatives such as honey. It was often combined with woad to make green.

  Chapter 1

  The deep and graveled tones of a horn are not something anyone would want to have rupture the silence of a calm and sunny morning.

  At first Luitgard was not sure she had heard right. She and two of the young Goddess Maids had been dying fabric in a vat of woad. Pulling down the cloth that had protected her nose from the smell, she listened again.

  There was a short but distinctive burst from the horn followed by another and finally a long tone that lasted for as many heartbeats as she had fingers. The thick canopy of the forest dulled the sound slightly but now that she was listening for it there could be no mistake. That day had finally come.

  The two girls' eyes were now wide as they stared back at her over their own face coverings. Luitgard told them to remain where they were until someone fetched them. Though she did not say it, she knew there was the chance no one would ever be able to come. If the horn blew, there was no telling of how dire the threat.

  She squeezed through the narrow opening in the stones that served as the shack's doorway. The forest was sunny. The chill and dew of the morning had long since burned away in the sun, leaving only a still warmth. Pale blue linens hung on tree branches to dry. A breeze guided the fabrics in an undulating dance.

  It seemed strange that the world could remain so serene with serious threats being announced through the air. Though the horn had temporarily silenced the animals, their calls and movements began to return as she ran as best she could through the foliage.

  Their actions quelled her fear. If the animals were not still afraid, it meant an army was not likely nearby.

  She continued her battle through the brush, cursing the distance around the lake. The horn had just begun to blow again as she emerged from the trees near the northeast corner of the walls.

  Her home was a village of just over a hundred people. It was located on a peninsula. A thick stone wall blocked it from the mainland as it stretched from the northeast to the northwest, across the base of the peninsula. This wall was not comprised of several large, grey stones piled together but was a solid mass of sparkling white. No one knew what the material was but they had never needed that knowledge. It had never been in need of repair the entire fifty years it had stood. A popular legend amongst the people held that their founder, Lord Mintharch, had carried the entire structure to the site himself. However, the only two still alive who had helped found the village claimed the wall had been there before they arrived.

  Luitgard emerged from the trees. In front of the wall was a wide ditch that followed the length of it. The only way across it was the drawbridge, which was currently closed. Her stomach flipped as her mind entertained the wildest of possibilities to explain it.

  She looked around and noted that there indeed was no army laying siege but the horn and the closed drawbridge would not allow her to be comforted by this fact. The blowing stopped when she had been spotted as she approached. Perhaps she would make the horn blower hike the lake three times each day until he learned how long it really took to make the journey.

  The drawbridge lowered and the portcullis raised at the same time to allow her entrance. She was barely across the bridge when it began to close once more. She stopped between the two stone gatehouse towers just inside the wall. They cast large shadows over the area and she had to give her eyes a moment to adjust.

  Adalbern, the head of the men, was waiting for her. He was not a tall man but neither was he small. Layers of tunic and studded leather armor emphasized that his body was built like a barrel. Even his arms and legs were thick and round. He ate much but he also worked hard. Boys who had trained under him never went to bed without new bruises.

  His blue eyes contrasted sharply with his tanned face and brown hair. He wore his hair tied behind his head and his beard long. His hand was resting upon the hilt of the sword tied to his belt.

  "Priestess," he said in greeting as he nodded firmly.

  "What is going on?" Luitgard asked. "Why was the horn blown?"

  "We've had a visitor," he grunted as he nodded to his overly tall nephew.

  The man's name was Humbert and though he was thin and only 18, his height and his firm jaw made him look ten years older. He had dark brown hair that looked black in the shade and blue eyes just like Adalbern's. He was always quiet around his uncle but otherwise pleasant and eager to talk. Though he was training to follow in Adalbern's footsteps, one would not have known it now. He was wearing little more than a loose shirt and grey hose. Both were covered in dirt.

  He ducked inside one of the guard towers at Adalbern's gesture.

  "Has he been wrestling?" Luitgard asked.

  Adalbern nodded with the same firmness as his greeting. "We were in the middle of training when the bastard showed up," he said.

  Humbert emerged from the tower pushing a sandy-haired man in front of him. The man was half a hand's length taller than Luitgard. She looked down at his robes and her breath caught. There was no mistaking the black fabric.

  "You are a Dominican," she gasped. "Does anyone else know where you are?"

  His face had been rigid in defiance. Though her question made this facade falter, he refused to answer. His lack of cooperation evoked her anger. He had violated her sanctuary with his presence; the least he could do was answer her.

  "How did you find this place?" she pressed.

  He said nothing.

  She needed answers. "How did you get through the barrier? When did you see the wall?"

  His face was regaining its rigidity. "I am a simple friar seeking shelter and God," he said.
<
br />   "Your kind do not seek god," she seethed. "You seek kingdoms."

  "Only the Kingdom of God," he said.

  Luitgard examined his expression and flicked her eyes back down to his robes.

  "Until we have figured out how you got through our barrier, you will remain in the village," she told him. Turning to Adalbern, she said, "He can walk freely so long as one of your men watches him and he is not allowed outside the walls under any circumstances."

  Adalbern nodded firmly once more.

  She turned back to the Dominican and pointed to the far side of the village where there stood a two-floored, wood structure overlooking the water. The manor house was where the Goddess Maids trained to be priestesses. It also served as Luitgard's home.

  "You can get your food and shelter there tonight," she explained. "Do not pester the ladies or your walking privileges will be revoked."

  He nodded.

  "Adalbern," she said, "Come with me. We need to discuss what has happened."

  Leaving Humbert with the Dominican, she led Adalbern into the primary gatehouse. They climbed the long ladder to the battlements and looked out at the surrounding forests.

  "No visible evidence of something wrong," Adalbern said. "Perhaps the barrier is simply weakening?"

  Luitgard said nothing. Though possible, she was worried it was much more serious than that.

  "Assemble four groups of three men each tomorrow morning," she instructed. "I will send three priestesses for each group. Inspect the entire perimeter of the barrier. If there is any anomaly, no matter how small, I want it fixed and reported back to me."

  Adalbern nodded. "The men can use it as forest training, they have not had any in over a week."

  "Then see to it that you increase their night sessions in the woods to every week once we figure this out," she ordered.

  He nodded. "Anything else?" he asked.

  "Just one," she said. "Send Humbert out to the dying hut to fetch the girls and take our guest to the house."

  He nodded again before climbing down the ladder. She intended to follow immediately but stopped when she thought she saw in the corner of her eye a variation in the brush. She looked at the spot and thought she could see a woman looking back at her. By the time her eyes adjusted to the distance, the spectre was gone.

  Her worry for the safety of her people twisted her stomach into a knot. She silently scolded herself for letting the Dominican's presence rattle her so much. She was having hallucinations because of her uncontrolled fear. She looked over the village to reassure herself that all was well. Everything appeared exactly as it should.

  The women in pale yellows were tending the gardens. Those in pale blues were grinding herbs and tending to infants. Several bare chested men just as round as Adalbern were carrying a large tree trunk down a narrow path. They had been working hard for days to build a new storehouse to replace the one that had nearly fallen down from a combination of rot and pests.

  Smoke puffed out of the stone chimney of the blacksmith near the manor. The blacksmith was sitting outside, leaning against the wall, as he fanned himself.

  Three green-clad priestesses stood aside to allow the men to pass. Luitgard covered her brow with her hand and looked in the direction of the sun. They were late for afternoon lessons again. She looked back at the girls and took note that the girls were Adelina, Dagmar, and Abigail. She sighed as she wondered if Sieglinde would continue to ignore such disobedience from those three.

  She turned away from the village and climbed down the ladder. By the time she got to the bottom, Adalbern was already at the manor steps with their unexpected visitor. The Dominican robes made him easily seen amongst the colourful and bright villagers. The fabric that returned no light gave her an uncomfortable shot of cold down her spine.

  She hurried up the main path to the house. The large doors had not closed behind Adalbern. She grumbled as she slipped through the opening and pulled them shut. The soft thud of their closing echoed through the central hall.

  The square room was large enough to accommodate the village inhabitants in an emergency and not a person more. Even at the height of day, it was dimly lit. There were no light sources but for the central fire and the hole in the middle of the roof to let out the smoke.

  Between large support pillars were pale blue drapes covering the openings to the kitchens, the staircase to the upper floor, and several teaching and work rooms. The hall opened to the floor above where there were walkways leading to the solar and more teaching rooms. The floor of the centre of the hall was two steps lower than the rest of the structure.

  Luitgard looked around at those in the room. Adalbern was still standing on the hall steps, the Dominican behind him. The Goddess Maids she had seen from the tower were standing in the middle of the room and Sieglinde stood before them.

  Sieglinde was only a year younger than Luitgard. She had dusty blonde hair that looked brown when wet, and bright blue eyes. She had always been thin despite her mother's efforts to fatten her as a child. Her bones showed a little too obviously through her skin to give anyone confidence that she was properly nourished. However, Luitgard had seen her eat and knew that while the woman did not eat much, she ate enough to survive.

  They had grown up together and been closer than sisters for nearly the entire time. It had surprised no one that the two of them excelled together so that Sieglinde became a High Priestess of the Mintharchs with Luitgard. However, that did not mean Luitgard did not want to throttle Sieglinde regularly.

  She whisked passed Adalbern and the Dominican, keeping her eyes upon Sieglinde. The intruder would not interfere with her determination to ensure that their society functioned as intended.

  "What punishment have you given these girls," she demanded.

  Sieglinde did not move her head but shifted her eyes to Luitgard. "I am dealing with the matter," she said.

  Luitgard scoffed. "Telling them not to worry and just try harder next time, are you?" she confirmed.

  Sieglinde's eyes focused on one of the random boards in the ceiling. This was an expression with which Luitgard was very familiar.

  "Don't you avoid me," Luitgard whispered. "These girls have not arrived to their lessons on time once since their initiation. It is far passed time you did something about it."

  "You have your methods, High Priestess, and I have mine," she replied.

  Luitgard felt her face redden. Sieglinde only ever called her by her title when mocking her. Of all the times to fight her in the matter, this was not it. For the Goddess' sake, a Catholic was in the room with them.

  Though she wanted to rage against her and send the girls away as punishment, she needed to retain the semblance of control. With a conscious breath that did not yield as much control to her as she had hoped, she tried to steady her voice.

  "I have my own matters to attend," she said. "Discipline these girls for once and we will discuss this later."

  Sieglinde bowed her head in acknowledgement but both of them knew no resolution to the argument had been made.

  Luitgard turned back to face Adalbern and the Dominican. The intruder's stance was still defiant but his face appraising. Just as she had feared, he was no idiot.

  "Adalbern," she called. "See to assembling those men. I will take our guest to his sleeping space."

  Adalbern nodded and left the House.

  Luitgard invited the friar to follow her. He did so quickly and silently as she guided him through one set of curtains. She walked down a hallway, ignoring an open door that led to the kitchens to her left, and stopped by an alcove near the corner of the stone wall.

  "You may sleep here," she said. "The bread ovens are on the other side of this wall, so you should have no trouble staying warm. There are no clouds, so I expect it will be chilly. We normally let the hunting dogs sleep here but I will have Adalbern keep them with him tonight. The priestesses eat in the hall just after sunset. You may join us for food but you are not to speak to them. Do you understand?"


  The friar looked up at her and nodded. He had blue eyes like hers.

  "We will figure out what to do with you tomorrow once I know more," she added. "Good day."

  She did not wait for his response. She walked back the way she had come, hoping to observe how Sieglinde had chosen to deal with the tardy Goddess Maids. Unfortunately, by the time she returned to the hall, despite only having been a few moments, Sieglinde and the three girls were gone.

  Luitgard grumbled to herself as she stomped to the manor doors and pulled them open. Her first chance to discuss discipline with Sieglinde would likely not come until the evening meal. She decided instead to check on the progress of the new storehouse.

  After an afternoon of ensuring all was as it should be, Luitgard finally returned to the manor when the sun was red and low in the sky. The storehouse would take another day to be finished but it would be a fine structure complete with a cellar to keep the heat away from their vegetables.

  Though she had planned to speak with Sieglinde at the first opportunity, she was now too exhausted and too in need of a bath to care. She no doubt still smelled of woad, for she had not had a chance to change out of her dying clothes.

  When she entered the main hall, the Goddess Maids were pulling the tables out from their hiding places behind the curtains on the far wall to set up for the evening meal. The Dominican was nowhere in sight. Luitgard hoped that meant he had not disobeyed her.

  She would not have time for a bath before the meal was served, but she could change. Cutting across the hall, she walked to the spiral stairs leading to the second floor. Just before she reached the curtain covering them, the scent of stew wafted by her on a breeze from the kitchens.

  She turned to see the Dominican holding the curtain aside. He was a handsome man. He was thin but had broad shoulders. His face had a firm jaw and defined cheek bones. At the moment, his expression was as passive as Roman stone. She did not like that he was so difficult to read.

  The Goddess Maids paused in their tasks to look at him. Some whispered to each other.

  "Back to your work," Luitgard ordered.

  The women complied.

  With a curt nod to the Dominican, Luitgard wrenched the nearest curtain aside and ascended the stairs. The top of the stairs opened to the hallway overlooking the hall below. Annoyingly, she saw that the Dominican was still watching her. She forced her eyes forward as she walked to the opposite end of the hall and turned the corner into the solar.

  To her surprise, Sieglinde was already there.

  "I thought you would still be teaching," Luitgard said as she watched Sieglinde fold several wool blankets and set them into the carved chest at the end of Luitgard's narrow bed.

  The chest had been in the solar since it was built. The wood from which it was made was thick and very heavy. Part of the reason Luitgard had inherited the piece was that no one had ever dared try to move it. The other reason was that it had belonged to her grandfather, Dragonfather. On the front of the chest was carved the image of a wyvern perched atop a tower that pushed above the clouds. Every time Luitgard looked at it, she smiled.

  Her grandfather had been her closest friend. He understood her better than her parents had. He had taken her to Rome when she was a girl. And when her parents died of a mysterious disease after they returned, it was her grandfather who held her as she cried herself to sleep for weeks on end. She had thought she would never again know such grief but then he disappeared several months later. The painful memory pricked at her. It was one she had managed to suppress. The Dominican's arrival had broken it free.

  "I had no one to teach," Sieglinde said.

  Luitgard did not like the sound of that. "You should have had at least five girls learning sewing today. What happened to them?"

  Sieglinde looked up at her as she closed the lid to the chest. "I disciplined them," she said.

  Luitgard raised a brow. Sieglinde and discipline were not normally acquainted. "How exactly did you do that?"

  "I sent the three girls home and told them not to return for training until they had learned of the importance of their calling," she said.

  Luitgard was impressed. To have such a shame made so obvious to their families would not easily be forgotten. However, she dared not be too hopeful. "What of the others?" she asked as she folded her arms, bracing for the answer.

  "I gave them the rest of the afternoon off in reward for attending their lessons on time," she added.

  Pressing her lips together, Luitgard narrowed her eyes as she watched Sieglinde walk to the window. Despite the sun being almost fully set, she had left the shutters open. She sat upon the bench beneath it and looked out to the West.

  "You are too soft," Luitgard insisted. "We do not get prizes and awards for doing our duty. We work harder."

  Sieglinde sighed. "Do you ever tire of such a serious life?" she asked.

  Luitgard grunted as she reached for the ornate comb on her table and began to pull it mercilessly through her hair. It had been one of the last gifts her grandfather had given her, saying it had been given to him by a very generous man. The teeth were carved bone and the spine had been inlayed with gold and pearls. "I am not allowed to tire of it," she said. "I have too many people depending on me and so do you."

  "Perhaps the arrival of the Dominican is a sign things need to change," Sieglinde suggested.

  "If anything," Luitgard replied, "It means we have not been working hard enough."

  Sieglinde looked into her eyes and Luitgard's heart nearly broke. They had sparred often over their different views to discipline but neither had taken such talk personally. At this moment, Sieglinde looked as though she had suffered a great loss.

  "And if the priestesses find no fault with the barrier?" she asked. "What will we do then? Will we keep him prisoner?"

  "Of course," Luitgard replied without hesitation. Was her friend so worried about that man that she would consider risking her own people by letting him go? "We cannot risk their form of conversion finding us," she explained. "We are surrounded by Catholics, Norse, and Sorbs. We survive despite them all only because we remain hidden. It must always be so."

  A breeze brushed by Sieglinde's hair and into the room. The two loose locks by her ear danced for only a moment before settling. She looked back out the window. "Trouble is not so easily deceived," she said. Standing, she ran her hands down her green tunic dress to straighten it. "The sun has set," she said. "We cannot be late for the evening meal, not after the example I tried to set today."

  Luitgard had gotten so distracted by their conversation, she had forgotten to change. She sniffed her sleeve and nearly wretched at the smell of woad. She had no time now.

  She followed Sieglinde back to the hall and hoped she could avoid taking offense at the crinkled noses of those near her.

  Two large chairs had been placed at their usual mealtime spots at the table furthest from the main doors. They were for the two High Priestesses. As Luitgard walked up to hers, her eyes fell upon the wyvern carved upon the back of it. It reminded her of happier days.

  The rest of the tables had been set so as to complete a square. Each table fit eight Priestesses. Several of the eldest women, sat at the High Priestesses table. Those of childbearing age sat at the two tables nearest. The youngest sat at the table nearest the door.

  With three initiates exiled as punishment, there was plenty of space to accommodate their visitor. He sat alone as the remaining initiates huddled at the end of the table furthest from him. A Mintharch knew never to trust an outsider.

  When the ladies were all seated, the kitchen helpers emerged from behind one of the curtains carrying trays laden with bowls of stew and plates of bread. None of the women reached for the food placed before them. Instead, they turned to the High Priestesses. Sieglinde stood.

  "The blessings of the Great Mother have given us this meal. May the harvest of her work give us health," she said before sitting once more.

  The women picked up wooden spoo
ns from the table and began to eat.

  As Luitgard lifted a scoop of roots and mutton to her mouth, she saw the Dominican watching her. His eyes were wide. He was not eating but had his hands firmly in his lap. She set her spoon in her bowl and sat back.

  "We will not poison you, Dominican," she called. "I promise you that."

  He looked at the women. Many were still eating though some had paused to watch the exchange. He looked at the bowl then back at Luitgard. "I do not believe it poisoned," he replied.

  "Then why do you not eat?" she asked.

  "I thought you were pagans but you pray like Christians," he said.

  She gave a great laugh from her belly. Once her laughing had subsided, she said, "We are nothing like your kind, Dominican. There was prayer long before there were Christians."

  "Who is your Great Mother if not the Mother of God?" he asked.

  She felt no mirth now. She was no longer even hungry. "You know nothing of honouring a Mother," she said. "Now keep your silence or return to your alcove and starve."

  He said nothing, but continued to stare at her. She would not be intimidated. She stared back and refused to look away until he had bowed his head to say his own prayer.

  The Dominican left the table the moment he was finished eating. Luitgard said nothing as she watched him go. His presence frightened her but her outburst made her realize her fear might be getting the better of her. Though she was often quick to anger, it was not often she showed it. Sieglinde could always tell when it was happening but she was far more skilled than the others and she had known her for years.

  The shock and danger that this traveller had brought simply by stumbling upon them had evoked her visible anger several times already. She was beginning to worry if she was becoming an equal threat to her people by not keeping calm. She definitely did not want the Dominican to think she lacked self-control.

  After several minutes' thought, she lifted her spoon to her mouth but her appetite refused to return. The women had finished and were turning their attention back to her. She placed her spoon gently in her bowl before standing. She clapped her hands together high above her head.

  The priestesses rose to their feet and raised their arms in the air.

  "May the Great Goddess shine upon us always," she called. "May she guide our work and aid our harvests. I am of the mother. I am of all that has come before me. With the blessings of the Mother, I thank you for your service. May you always remain unseen."

  "May you always remain unseen," replied the others in unison before they lowered their arms.

  Luitgard did the same before calling out, "Finish your chores quickly. We will be rising early tomorrow and some of you will be responsible for checking the barrier."

  This caused near panic. The priestesses were looking at each other and asking very quickly if their sisters knew anything. Was that why the Dominican was there? Were they all going to be massacred in their beds?

  "Enough!" Luitgard yelled.

  The room fell silent.

  "This inspection is indeed because of the arrival of a Catholic in our midst," she explained. "But it is simply an assurance. We have no other reason to believe the barrier has fallen. One man is hardly worth losing your sleep. Tomorrow, we will inspect the barrier and will deal with whatever we find. Now get control of yourselves and do your chores or I will have to give out punishments."

  Several of the Goddess Maids bowed their heads. The older priestesses remained silent but began to gather the bowls and move the benches back to their storage area.

  Luitgard felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Sieglinde giving her a weak grin.

  "Shall we talk upstairs?" she asked.

  Luitgard shook her head. She needed to speak with someone else first; this time with her wits in check.

  "I will be there in a few minutes and then we will likely have much to discuss," she said.

  Sieglinde nodded and walked to the stairs.

  Luitgard looked at the curtain hiding the hall to the kitchens. She would rather be doing chores but there was no choice. She walked to the curtain and pulled it aside and looked over to the alcove.

  The Dominican was adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. He looked up at her but said nothing. She noted his skill for silence.

  "Our histories say your kind has not been good to us," she said as she moved to stand in front of him.

  He said nothing.

  "However," she added, "I am not here to judge you in the same way. I have no plan to treat you in such a way and no desire to harm you."

  He still said nothing and his eyes refused to waver.

  "Unfortunately," she said. "Even if our protections are intact and there is some other method by which you have found us, we cannot simply let you go on your way. The risks to our people are too great. It is likely that you will be staying with us for the rest of your life, however long that may be. Can you live with that, Dominican?"

  "If it is the test God has given me," he said.

  "Your god holds no sway here," she replied. "You will learn that before long."

  "Perhaps that is why I am here," he offered. "To change that."

  The anger in her rose up like a shot and she opened her mouth to yell at him. This time, now aware of the effect his presence had upon her, she was able to stop it before saying anything she might regret. She took a deep breath.

  "We are a peaceful people," she said with forced evenness. "We have remained so for many years. The only way we have been able to live in peace is to be invisible to your kind. I did not think Catholics believed in the god of the Old Testament but seeing as you think we lack something and all we lack is violence and hatred, you must."

  "You know of the Old Testament?" he asked.

  Luitgard scoffed. "Of course I do," she said. "My grandfather taught me Latin and had me read it when I was a child. He wanted me to know for myself what Christians believe."

  "I believe in the Almighty God," the Dominican stressed. "He has guided me here. It is not mine to question."

  "It is mine," she replied.

  They stared at each other for many moments. He was still clutching his cuff. There was nothing about this man she wanted to trust. She realized now that she had wanted to talk to him partly to reassure herself but their talk had done little of that. He seemed as stiff and unyielding as the Church itself and all too eager to follow its doctrine blindly.

  "Just be sure to keep your god to yourself," she instructed. "Otherwise your time here might be shorter than you expected."

  "It is already longer."

  "Good night, Dominican." She turned but as she held the curtain aside to leave, his own farewell made her freeze.

  "Valete, Filia Draconis," he said quietly, a slight gravel to his words deepening his voice momentarily.

  When her brain had comprehended what he had said, she whirled around to face him.

  "What did you just say?" she demanded. She had heard, she had understood, but she refused to believe it was more than hallucination.

  "Is that not what you are called?" he asked with a furrowed brow. His tone held none of the same confusion as his eyes.

  It was only the second time she had seen him in less than perfect control of himself. Despite her own worry, she felt a faint satisfaction that she was not the only one struggling with the situation. This satisfaction grew into a newfound confidence. Her chest released from its contraction and she was able to breathe and to think once more.

  "Not by you, I'm not," she replied. "Who are you?"

  He too seemed to have taken the passing moment to regain his mind. His face returned to its former unreadable state.

  "A simple friar in search of God," he said.

  She wanted to scoff and call him out on his lies but he seemed too well versed in manipulation; a holy man's skill if there ever was one. Open confrontation would likely continue to end in failure. Playing his game seemed a much more intelligent way to learn what she wanted to know.

  Cro
ssing her arms in front of her chest, she pulled her shoulders back and looked down at him. He was still sitting in the same position as when she had arrived. The only muscles that had moved in the last several minutes were those on his face and even those movements had been few and slight.

  "I will not have a mouth of evil address me so," she said.

  She did not allow him more words, not that he would have offered them anyway. She left immediately, now sure that there was one more stop she had to make before speaking with Sieglinde.

  The hall had since been cleaned and deserted. The creak of the large front doors as she opened them pierced the stillness.

  The night was already cool. She paused upon the top stair and looked to the sky. It was mostly clear and the stars she could see were bright. Though she could not see the moon itself from where she stood, the light of it faintly illuminated the houses and paths of the village. It was her responsibility to know that it would be a half moon that night; hardly an instructive portent.

  She walked swiftly through the paths to one of the many small houses that surrounded the manor. Smoke puffed from the hole in the roof and the gaps around the shutters showed the interior was well lit.

  She knocked heavily upon the door and a moment later it opened. Adalbern was still fully dressed from his duties but his eyebrows were raised in surprise as he wiped stew from his beard with a rough hand.

  "Has something else happened?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "Not really," she said. "I have some renewed concerns that I am unable to discuss. I wanted to ask you to triple the guard tonight and until we have checked the barrier tomorrow."

  His eyes narrowed. "I don't have the men for that much," he said. "You know that. I can manage triple tonight but no extra tomorrow while the others check the barrier. They'll all be blurry eyed at that."

  "I will send three of the crones to help tonight," she said.

  Adalbern examined her face. "What did that Catholic say to you?" he whispered.

  She avoided his eyes at first but knew that no matter what she said, he would not believe her. Finally, she looked back at him. "Something that not even you would know," she said. "I fear there is more to his arrival than a simple accident."

  He rubbed his beard again, but this time in contemplation. "I'll oversee the night watch myself," he said.

  Though his offer was appreciated, Luitgard felt no relief. She felt as vulnerable as she had in Rome all those years ago. She thanked him anyway and returned to the manor.

  When she finally entered the solar after sending the crones to Adalbern, she was surprised to see that Sieglinde was still awake. She had a large tome with beaten and loose pages open upon her bent knees. She was sitting beneath the window with her feet on the bench. She waved but did not look up or speak when Luitgard entered.

  "What are you reading?" Luitgard asked.

  Sieglinde turned the page. Her brow furrowed, the bridge of her nose scrunching almost into a knot. "This hardly helps," she said, annoyed. She examined the page, front and back, one more time before shutting the book with a great thwap.

  She turned to lower her feet from the bench and set the book down beside her. Taking a breath, she looked up. "I was reading over the old histories," she said. "Something about that friar made me think I should."

  "And?" Luitgard asked.

  "Nothing to tell," she said, "Nothing both of us don't already know and nothing that would relate to him."

  "Anything that would relate to Dragonfather?" Luitgard asked without explaining why.

  Sieglinde stopped blinking. Luitgard could not even be sure she was still breathing. She could not blame her. Luitgard's grandfather had disappeared, likely died, eleven years before, not long after they had returned from Rome. Her endearing name for him had never been uttered since. No one but Sieglinde had ever known his name for Luitgard until the Dominican arrived.

  Sieglinde's shoulders rose and fell rapidly. In a moment, she would be overtly hyperventilating. "What did he say to you?" she asked, forcing her shoulders still and her chin up but failing to look confident.

  "Valete, Filia Draconis," she replied.

  Sieglinde's eyes darted from spot to spot on the floor as if the imperfections in the aged wood would give her answers. "Where could he have learned that name? Could your grandfather be alive? Could they have tortured him into revealing us to the Church?" she asked.

  Luitgard walked to her friend and helped her to her feet. She looked into Sieglinde's wild eyes then hugged her tightly to calm her. As she stroked Sieglinde's hair, she said, "I don't know but we must keep watching him. We must know how he learned of these things. Whatever happened to Dragonfather, I think we will soon know the truth."