Angel Time (The Songs of the Seraphim 1)

"I only did what--."

"You tore at the heart of a home and hearth," he declared. "And now you deny her when she comes all this way to save her mother? You are heartless, My Lady. And your daughter, what part does she have in this? I defy you to prove that this is not the girl you knew. I defy you to put forth one shred of evidence that this child is not Lea, daughter of Fluria!"

The crowd roared with applause. All around people were murmuring, "The old Jew tells the truth," and "Yes, how can they prove it?" and "He knows her by her voice," and a hundred other variations of the same theme.

Lady Margaret burst into a flood of tears. But they were silent compared to the tears shed by Rosa.

"I meant no harm to anyone!" wailed Lady Margaret suddenly. She threw up her arms to the Bishop. "I truly thought the child was dead and thought myself the cause of it."

Rosa turned. "Lady, be comforted, I beg you," she said in a halting and timid voice.

The crowd went quiet as she went on. And the Bishop motioned furiously for order as the priests began to quarrel with one another, and Fr. Antoine stood staring in disbelief.

Rosa continued, "Lady Margaret, if it were not for your kindness to me," she said, her voice frail and tender, "I would never have gone to join my sister in her new faith. What you cannot know is that it was her letters to me that laid the ground for my going with you that night to Christmas Mass, but it was you who sealed my conviction. Forgive me, forgive me with all your heart, please, that I did not write to you and tell you of my gratitude. Again, my love for my mother ... Oh, do you not understand? I beg you."

Lady Margaret could resist no longer. She took Rosa in her arms, and again and again protested how sorry she was that she'd caused such misery.

"My Lord Bishop," declared Eli, turning his blind eyes towards the tribunal. "Will you not let us return to our homes? Fluria and Meir will leave the Jewry after this disturbance, as you are sure to understand, but no one has committed any crime here whatsoever. And we will deal with the apostasy of these children in time as they are yet ... children."

Lady Margaret and Rosa were now tangled in each other's arms, sobbing, whispering, and Little Eleanor had put her arms around them.

Fluria and Meir stood mute, staring, as did Isaac the physician and the other Jews, his family perhaps, who had been prisoners in the tower.

The Bishop sat down. He threw out his hands in an expression of frustration.

"Very well, then. It is done. You recognize this child as Lea."

Lady Margaret nodded vigorously. "Only tell me," she said to Rosa, "that you forgive me, forgive me for the pain I've brought to your mother."

"I do with all my heart," Rosa said, and she said a great deal more, but the entire room was in motion.

The Bishop declared the proceedings closed. The Dominicans stared hard at all involved. The Earl at once gave his soldiers the order to mount up, and without waiting for any further word from anyone he motioned for Meir and Fluria to come with him.

I stood stock-still, watching. I could see the Dominicans held back, and regarded everyone with a cold eye.

But Meir and Fluria were led from the hall, the old man with them, and now Rosa went out, her arms around Lady Margaret and Little Eleanor, all three of them weeping.

I glanced out through the archway, and saw the entire family, including Magister Eli, mounting into the cart, and Rosa giving one last embrace to Lady Margaret.

The other Jews had begun their march down the hill. The soldiers were on their horses.

It was as if I woke from a dream when Godwin pulled on my arm. "Come now, before anything changes."

I shook my head. "Go," I said. "I'll stay here. If there is any further trouble, I must be here." He wanted to protest but I reminded him of how urgent it was that he climb into that cart and go.

The Bishop rose from the table and he and the white-robed priests of the cathedral disappeared into one of the anterooms.

The crowd was fragmented, and powerless, and watched as the cart made its way down the hill, flanked on both sides by the Earl's soldiers. As for the Earl he rode behind the cart, with a straight back, and his left elbow out as if his hand were on the hilt of his sword.

I turned around and started out of the yard.

Stragglers eyed me and eyed the Dominicans who came after me.

I began to walk faster and faster down the hill. I could see the Jews walking safely ahead, and the cart was gaining speed. Suddenly the horses began to trot and all the entourage picked up the pace. They would be free of the town in minutes.

I picked up my own pace. I could see the cathedral and some instinct pushed me to go to it. But I could hear the footsteps of men right behind me.

"And where do you think you will go now, Br. Toby!" demanded Fr. Antoine in an angry voice.

I continued to walk though he put a hard hand on my shoulder.

"To the cathedral, to give thanks, where else?"

I walked as fast as I could without running. But suddenly the Dominican friars were on both sides of me, and a good many of the toughs of the town were on either side of them, looking on with curiosity and suspicion.

"You think you will seek sanctuary there!" demanded Fr. Antoine. "I think not."

We were at the foot of the hill, when he pushed me around, and jabbed his finger in my face.

"Just who are you, Br. Toby? You who came here to challenge us, you who brought from Paris a child who may not be the child she claims to be."

"You've heard the decision of the Bishop," I said.

"Yes, and it will stand, and all will be well, but who are you and where do you come from?"

I could see the great facade of the cathedral now and I made my way through the streets towards it.

Suddenly he spun me around, but I pulled loose of him.

"No one has heard of you," said one of the brothers, "no one from our house in Paris, no one from our house in Rome, no one from our house in London, and we have written back and forth enough from here to London and to Rome to know that you are not one of us."

"Not one of us," declared Fr. Antoine, "knows anything of you, traveling scholar!"

I walked on and on, hearing the thunder of their steps behind me, thinking,I am leading them away from Fluria and Meir as surely as if I were the Pied Piper.

At last I gained the square before the cathedral, when suddenly two of the priests took hold of me.

"You will not enter that church until you answer us. You're not one of us. Who sent you here to pretend you were! Who sent you to Paris to bring back this girl who claims to be her own sister!"