Sanctuary of Roses (Medieval Herb Garden 2)

The door was closed. Madelyne knocked, then stepped back and waited with an inclined head. When the oaken door swung open, she was surprised to see her own mother, Lady Anne, inviting her within.

"Mama. Mother Bertilde. " Madelyne gave a brief curtsey, then a quick embrace to Anne, taking care not to knock their wimples askew.

"You have spent much time in the chapel as of late. " Bertilde spoke without preamble from her cushioned armchair. "Do you not tell me that your conscience is still plagued by that which needed to be done. "

Madelyne lowered her eyes to look at the stone floor and curled her hands together. A twinge from the splinter still embedded under her nail surprised her, and she rubbed at the tender spot. She saw the glide of her mother's dark robe along the stones as she moved to sit near the abbess. "I regret that 'twas necessary to resort to trickery in dismissing Lord Mal Verne and his men from our abbey. "

"'Twas necessary, Madelyne!" Anne spoke. "As long as Fantin lives, we cannot chance that word of our existence reach him. 'Twas necessary to remove those men from the abbey whilst they slept, likening the chance that they'll not find their way to return. "

"But to drug them!" Madelyne looked at Bertilde, and then back to her mother. "They could not know who I am. And Mama, you remained hidden during their respite here. 'Tis impossible that they should recognize you! Father, if he lives still, cannot hurt us when there is no one to carry tales to him. "

"He lives still," Anne said, her voice still and heavy.

"Madelyne, child," Bertilde said, offering her hand to the younger woman. "You speak aright-'tis most unlikely that Gavin of Mal Verne should be the cause of Fantin de Belgrume learning that you and Anne are here. . . yet, when those men came within these walls, I sensed that no good would follow. They are gone nearly a fortnight, and that fear has not left me. "

When Madelyne took the large, capable hand, she was drawn into the abbess's arms, enfolded in the softness of her linen habit and hint of musky incense. The ease that usually came with such an embrace did not, and all at once, she felt tears sting her eyes. Mayhaps Bertilde spoke correctly and the safe idyll that she and her mother had found would be destroyed. The mother abbess was closer to God than anyone else Madelyne knew. . . mayhaps He had spoken to her.

"Madelyne. . . you did not talk of your past whilst you tended to their wounds, did you?" Anne's voice betrayed what must have been a most deep-rooted fear.

Because Madelyne understood her mother's dread, she didn't feel slighted by Anne's question, and she moved to put her arms around her. "Nay, Mama, I did not. You have impressed upon me the necessity of ne'er speaking of how I came to be here. I never shall. " She felt the tremor in Anne's shoulders and pulled back to press a kiss to her mother's cheek. "I would never endanger either of us in that way. I will do anything to keep you safe, Mama. Anything. " Her serious words became a vow, as if before God, spoken with conviction and certainty.

Anne seemed to gain control of the fear that had gripped her and slid her hands down from Madelyne's shoulders. Her fingers tightened around her daughter's arms with her next words. "Bertilde, and you, and I-and Seton, aye-are the only ones who know the truth of how we came here. If there are no others who know, then we must be safe. We must be. " She repeated those last words with such fervor that a chill raced down Madelyne's spine.

It must be so, she thought. God must make it so.

"De Belgrume bested you?" The incredulity in Henry Plantagenet's voice caused even the scribe who sat in the corner of the royal chambers to look up. "Mal Verne?"

"Aye. " Gavin's mouth firmed in annoyance at the reminder of his own incompetence even as the king drew his red-gold eyebrows together. The taste of defeat sat heavily upon him, as well as the ferocity to right that wrong. "I do not know how he learned of our planned assault at Mancassel, my lord, but 'twas obvious that he did, for we were set upon in a dense forest several leagues from there. No one could have known we would be there at that time. I begin to wonder if I have a spy in my midst, or whether de Belgrume is simply the most fortunate man alive. If I had not sent half my men on ahead to Mancassel that morn, we would easily have held our own, and I might now be presenting him to your Majesty.

"But, in the end," Gavin continued, "'tis de Belgrume who has suffered the greater loss-for I still live, though he surely believes I am dead. "

"Aye, you have the right of it. His sword has long itched for you, and yet you continue to deny him that satisfaction. But still he makes war upon you!" Henry slammed his jewel-encrusted goblet on a nearby table as he strode past it. "'Tis the reason I gave you the task-he must be contained and he has continued to engaged you for years. It's only you who can put an end to this, Mal Verne. And I fear it is because he's never forgiven you for being Nicola's husband. Nevertheless, bring him to our custody, or when next you meet him in battle, finish the bloody deed!" The king turned, seemingly ignoring the fact that he'd just ordered one of his vassals to murder another one. He paced back toward Gavin, who stood next to a small table laden with bread, cheese, and wine.

"You know I should like naught better than to bring de Belgrume to his knees. He's taken much from me, and all in the name of his unholy work. "

"'Tis unfortunate that the Church doesn't consider the study of alchemy blasphemous," Henry grumbled, snatching up a piece of soft white goat's cheese. "If it did, then at the very least we could excommunicate de Belgrume for it. . . and at the best, he could be tried for treason and executed. " His brows furrowed as he brandished the cheese. "Then I would be rid of him. "

"Even the Pope sees no harm in one seeking the Holy Grail through alchemy. . . yet de Belgrume's obsession has completely betaken his mind. His obsession has tipped him into madness. " This was a familiar conversation, one they'd had many times over in shared frustration.

"When he first came to our court, he didn't strike me as one so obsessed," the king mused.

"Nay, 'tis true. When he first became known to me, and to Nicola"-Gavin did not pause at his wife's name, and 'twas a miracle it did not stick in his throat-"I bethought the man to be only an empty-headed charmer with a well-hidden temper. An odd man, but a harmless one. Yet, in these last six years, he's come to carry an eerie light in his eyes more oft than not. " Gavin helped himself to a piece of pale yellow cheese. "I believe that the secrets of the Holy Grail continue to elude him, just as my own death has. . . and it's those failures which have ushered him into madness. "

"Aye. . . de Belgrume laid his claim against you when he tempted Nicola from your side, long before this lunacy became ma

dness. And then again there is that matter of your cousin's betrothed-Geoffrey? Geoffrey of Lancourt, was it?"

"Gregory, my liege. His name was Gregory, and, aye, he was betrothed to my cousin Judith. Another innocent lost because of de Belgrume. Aye. . . 'tis as if he and I were fated to oppose the other in all ways. " Gavin swallowed the mellow cheddar. "But he'll not best me again. I believe I've found a way to stop him. " He slipped his hand into the leather pouch that hung at from his tunic.

Henry barely paused in his great, vigorous strides that brought him past Gavin once again. "And how is that?"

Gavin fingered the rough, unevenness of the beads in his pouch. "I mislike to speak of it yet, my lord. Until. . . until I've put all plans into place. "

"I do not rightly care," Henry fumed, "as long as that man is brought under control, made to pay his taxes, and swear his fealty to me-I do not care how you do it!"

As always, it came down to the funds in Henry Plantagenet's mind. Despite the fact that there were other dangers in having a madman as one of his vassals. Gavin said naught but, "Aye, my lord. I shall. " He swallowed the last of the wine in his cup. "By your leave, your majesty, I'll excuse myself to see to those arrangements. "

"Be off. " Henry waved a hand and returned to his pacing. "Keep us informed of your progress. "