An Uncertain Choice

“You are a foolish young girl who knows nothing about ruling.”


His words struck me like a slap across my cheek. “My people love me.” But my declaration came out weak. If the sheriff and abbot felt that I was foolish, how many others did?

“You have emptied your coffers foolishly and would have become a pauper if I’d not stepped in to eliminate the poor in your kingdom.”

“You eliminated the poor?” Again his words hit me, but this time in the heart.

“If you had your way, you would have given every last possession you owned to the wretches. I decided the only way to save you from such foolishness was to get rid of those demanding much of you but giving little in return.”

“Then ’twas you who started the outbreaks of the illness?” My nausea rose up again along with the keen hurt of his betrayal.

“You’ll appreciate the fact that I’ve saved your wealth.” The abbot didn’t move, except to continue to slowly swing the ball of incense above me. “There will hopefully be enough now to build the abbey and the cathedral we’ve been planning these many years.”

“That you’ve been planning.”

“In building them, you’ll leave a legacy.”

“And perhaps you’ll gain more power and fame?”

The abbot didn’t respond. But from the gleam in his eyes, I could tell that I’d come close to the truth.

How had I not noticed his ulterior motives before now? He’d hidden them well. Or perhaps when I’d been resigned to life in the convent before knowing about the exception to the Vow, the abbot had no need to hide anything. He’d simply planned to guide me as he always had. In my insecurity, I’d turned to him all too often and made it easy for him to move me like a pawn in a game of chess.

But with the real possibility of me getting married, had he realized he’d lose the ability to control me? Had he been the one to undermine the contest, to try to murder the knights?

I lowered my head for fear he would see the revulsion roiling through every corner of my body. I wanted to ask how he’d done everything. Perhaps he and the sheriff had been working together. But what difference would it make now to know any more? I knew enough. I knew the man I’d always adored and trusted was not the man I’d believed him to be.

Anger swelled in my chest. I wanted to stand up and lash out at the abbot. But one look at the blood dribbling down Trudy’s chin and I knew I could do nothing. At least at that moment. I couldn’t risk bringing any more pain to my dear nursemaid. And clearly the guards were loyal to the abbot.

The abbot began to pray, in Latin, the opening lines of the ceremony that would irrevocably turn me into a nun. Once I spoke the vows, I would be bound to life in the convent. There would be nothing anyone could do to change my future, even if they wanted to.

Mingling with my anger at the abbot, my heart cried out with the pain of everything I was losing, the beauty of life and love. And Derrick.

I let my head dip lower, the weight of the sorrow and horror of all that was happening pressing down and threatening to flatten me. In some ways it was a funeral. Since it was now well past midday, I had no doubt the abbot had carried out his threat to have Derrick put to death. The merest thought about how much he’d suffered made me want to weep.

“We are gathered here to unite Rosemarie Montfort of Ashby,” the abbot started, “in the solemn occasion of marriage to the God of the universe.”

One of the windows near the back of the church crashed, sending shards of colored glass spraying into the nave.

I stiffened and turned in time to see a man jump through the opening. He rolled to the floor amidst the glass, and then sprang to his feet. When he straightened, I gasped.

It was Derrick, and he was still very much alive. Relief hit so swiftly that I gasped out a half cry. His hair was windswept and his chest heaved as if he’d run the distance from the castle to the convent.

Derrick’s steel eyes swept around the church and came to rest on me for an instant. His gaze raked over me as though surveying my safety before he strode to the center aisle, holding his halberd with both hands, with his knight’s sword holstered on one side and his dagger on the other. He spread his feet wide, and his eyes blazed with fury. The convent guards started to slowly approach him, their swords unsheathed and gleaming in the bright light that streamed from the open window.

I counted the number of guards advancing upon him. Eleven.

A new fear seized my heart. How could he possibly fight against eleven well-trained and armed soldiers?

A movement by my side and another drawn sword raised the count to twelve. The soldier that had been guarding Trudy was joining the ranks of those circling around Derrick.

He would soon be trapped in the middle of twelve soldiers.

I wanted to scream my protest. But how could I? What good would it do now?