Crown of Stars (Crown of Stars 7)

“I thought,” said Ivar irritably, “that we might join together. Walk southeast together, for safety. Better if Baldwin and I wait for our horses to be reshod…. yet if what the Eagle says is true …”

“Go, or stay,” said Ratbold. “I am about to close this gate, Brother Ivar. Then the choice will be made.”

“We don’t know the path,” said Baldwin.

The others were already out of sight, because of the darkness, but Ivar heard their soft footfalls and a comment from Wolfhere.

“If you would go ahead, Brother Heribert. The night seems no hindrance to your eyes.”

Ivar had a light kit slung over his back, a leather bottle half full of stream water, his sheathed knife, and the injured soldier’s borrowed sword. The night was cool and dark and it smelled of greening, the first rush of spring, although it was summer by the calendar of feast days.

“What must we do?” asked Baldwin.

“I hate to leave the horses.”

“I have a pouch of ale, the bread, and my knife,” said Baldwin brightly.

“Choose,” said Ratbold.

“What do you advise?” asked Ivar desperately.

Ratbold glanced in the direction where, years ago, Ivar and his companions had stumbled down off a hillside crowned with a stone circle. All lay dark along the horizon and in the high heavens. A campfire beyond the orchard had burned down to red coals. A distant lamp glimmered beside the main gate, and another lamp bobbed out on the green where someone walked.

“Best you go,” said Ratbold. “We are better protected if you who are messengers for the noble folk who contest these lands do not sleep within our walls. Then we can claim honestly that we do not take sides in earthly contests.”

“You changed your liturgy,” said Baldwin suddenly.

“You pray to the Lady and Her Son. You have accepted the truth.”

“We could not ignore the sign God sent us,” said Ratbold.

The words troubled Ivar. He felt poked as with the butt of a spear. Be alert! His head told him one thing, but his gut told him another.

“Let’s go,” he said, knowing he had to take the leap or he would never move. “Before they’re too far for us to catch up to them.”

“But our supplies—!” objected Baldwin.

“Almost gone. The horses need a rest. It isn’t far. We’ll be safer with an Eagle to guide us and stout arms to fight by our side.”

He crossed through the gate and, outside, turned back to see that Baldwin remained inside. “Are you coming or staying?”

“What if Hersford is attacked and we’re not here to help them? We can’t just abandon these poor folk, now that their abbot is stolen away from them!” He rubbed at the beard again, which fretted him. “I don’t like traveling.”

He was like a dog that has become accustomed to the leash.

“Then stay and do what you can for these brothers and refugees. I’ll come back for you when all this is over.”

“Ivar…”

“I’m not angry with you, Baldwin. But if I mean to go with those others, I must hurry, or I’ll lose them.”

“It might be best,” muttered Ratbold.

Baldwin shoved both half and whole loaf into Ivar’s arms, then wrestled with a hand and twisted off his lapis lazuli ring, the one he had claimed from the barrow. Shaking, he clutched Ivar’s hand across the open gate and closed Ivar’s fingers over the ring.

“Haven’t we given this back and forth enough times?” Ivar asked, half laughing because he wanted also to cry.

“It will keep you safe.”