"Is my Lord Abbot within?"
"Faith, he is advising a penitent now."
From the adjacent room, they heard a rhythmic creaking sound.
"How long will he keep her at her prayers?" the monk asked.
"It may be a goodly while," the toad said. "She is recidive. And her sins are oft repeated."
"I would you make known these worthy men to our Lord Abbot," the monk said, "for they bring news of Edwardus de Johnes."
"Be assured I shall tell him," the toad said in a bored tone. But Marek caught the gleam of sudden interest in the old man's eyes. Some meaning had registered.
"It is nigh on terce," the toad said, glancing up at the sun. "Will your guests dine on our simple fare?"
"Many thanks, but no, we shall - " Chris coughed. Kate poked Marek in the back. Marek said, "We shall, if it is not a great trouble."
"By the grace of God, you are welcome."
They were starting to leave for the dining room when a young monk ran breathlessly into the room. "My Lord Arnaut is coming! He will see the Abbot at once!"
The toad jumped to his feet and said to them, "Be you gone now." And he opened a side door.
Which was how they found themselves in a small, plain room adjacent to the Abbot's quarters. The squeaking of the bed stopped; they heard the low murmur of the toad, who was speaking urgently to the Abbot.
A moment later, another door opened and a woman came in, bare-legged, hastily adjusting her clothes, her face flushed. She was extremely beautiful. When she turned, Chris saw with astonishment that it was the Lady Claire.
She caught his look and said, "Why stare you thus?"
"Uh, my Lady . . ."
"Squire, your countenance is most unjust. How dare you judge me? I am a gentle woman, alone in a foreign part, with no one to champion me, to protect or guide me. Yet I must make my way to Bordeaux, eighty leagues distant, and thence to England if I am to claim my husband's lands. That is my duty as a widow, and in this time of war and tumult, I shall without hesitation do all that may be required to accomplish it."
Chris was thinking that hesitation was not a part of this woman's character. He was stunned by her boldness. On the other hand, Marek was looking at her with open admiration. He said smoothly, "Pray forgive him, Lady, for he is young and often thoughtless."
"Circumstances change. I had need of an introduction that only the Abbot could make for me. What persuasion is in my command, I use." The Lady Claire was hopping on one foot now, trying to keep her balance while pulling on her hose. She drew the hose tight, smoothed her dress, and then set her wimple on her head, tying it expertly beneath her chin, so only her face was exposed.
Within moments, she looked like a nun. Her manner became demure, her voice lower, softer.
"Now, by happenstance, you know what I had intended no person to know. In this, I am at your mercy, and I beg your silence."
"You shall have it," Marek said, "for your affairs are none of ours."
"You shall have my silence in return," she said. "For it is evident the Abbot does not wish your presence known to de Cervole. We shall all keep our secrets. Have I your word?"
"In sooth, yes, Lady," Marek said.
"Yes, Lady," Chris said.
"Yes, Lady," Kate said.
Hearing her voice, Claire frowned at Kate, then walked over to her. "Say you true?"
"Yes, Lady," Kate said, again.
Claire ran her hand over Kate's chest, feeling the breasts beneath the flattening cloth band. "You have cut your hair, damsel," she said. "You know that to pass as a man is punishable by death?" She glanced at Chris as she said this.
"We know it," Marek said.
"You must have great dedication to your Magister, to give up your sex."
"My Lady, I do."
"Then I pray most earnestly that you survive."
The door opened, and the toad gestured to them. "Worthies, come. My Lady, pray remain, the Abbot will do your bidding soon enough. But you worthies - come with me."
Outside in the courtyard, Chris leaned close to Marek and whispered, "Andre. That woman is poison."
Marek was smiling. "I agree she has a certain spark. . . ."
"Andre. I'm telling you. You can't trust anything she says."
"Really? I thought she was remarkably straightforward," Marek said. "She wants protection. And she is right."
Chris stared. "Protection?"
"Yes. She wants a champion," Marek said, thoughtfully.
"A champion? What are you talking about? We have only - how many hours left?"
Marek looked at his wristband. "Eleven hours ten minutes."
"So: what are you talking about, a champion?"
"Oh. Just thinking," Marek said. He threw his arm over Chris's shoulder. "It's not important."
11:01:59
They were seated at a long table with many monks in a large hall, a steaming bowl of meat soup in front of them, and in the center of the table, platters piled high with vegetables, beef and roast capons. And no one moving a muscle, but all heads bowed in prayer, as the monks chanted.
Pater noster qui es in coelis
Sanctivicetur nomen tuum
Adveniat regnum tuum
Fiat voluntas tua
Kate kept sneaking looks at the food. The capons were steaming! They looked fat, and yellow juice flowed onto the plates. Then she noticed that the monks nearest her seemed puzzled by her silence. She should know this chant, it seemed.
Beside her, Marek was chanting loudly.