The mystic rose

'Yes,' Cait admitted. 'It belonged to him.' She looked to the wise abbess with pleading in her eyes, begging for her understanding. 'I knew he wanted the Holy Cup, and I thought if I could get to it first, I could use it to bring de Bracineaux to justice.'

'And you would not shrink from carrying out that justice yourself, I suppose?'

'No,' confessed Cait. 'I would not.'

'I see.' The abbess nodded, her mouth pressed into a thin, firm line.

'What are you thinking, abbess?' asked Alethea after a moment.

'I think I must go and speak to these Soldiers of Christ and learn how the matter is to be resolved.'

'I will go with you,' said Cait. 'I may be able to help.'

'Cait, no,' objected Alethea. 'They will recognize you.'

'Not if I go in habit,' she replied.

'Hurry then,' Annora said. 'Alethea, go to the chapel and wait there with the sisters, and tell them to pray for God's will to be revealed to us. Caitriona, you come with me, we will find you a mantle and robe, and then we will go down to the village-and,' she added pointedly, 'you can tell me anything else I ought to know along the way.'

Two nuns arrived in the village a little before sunset; the sky was livid, staining the undersides of the clouds violet and muddy orange. The two lone figures made their way through the deserted village to the church where a number of white-cloaked men were gathered around a fire they had made outside the door of the timber building. The abbess and her companion marched directly to the knight standing guard at the door, and said, 'I am Abbess Annora. I was told someone wanted to see me.'

The Templar regarded the two women without expression. Both were dressed in the grey robes of their order, hooded against the cold.

'I will tell the commander you are here,' said the soldier, and disappeared inside, reappearing a moment later. 'Please come in, abbess. Grand Commander de Bracineaux will receive you now.'

The abbess and her companion stepped through the door and into the dim interior of the church. Brother Timotheus met them just inside the door. 'Abbess Annora,' he said, rushing up, 'thank God you have come. I have been telling these men that there is no need to hold everyone like this. I am certain matters can be settled peaceably to the satisfaction of all concerned.'

Cait looked past the village priest and saw de Bracineaux sitting in one of Dominico's chairs before the altar. His white hair was matted and damp, clinging to his head like wet leaves; his face was red from the cold and wind, but his eyes were keen as blades. Beside the Templar sat Archbishop Bertrano; Gislebert stood behind his commander's chair, and the fair-haired man named d'Anjou was pacing in the shadows behind the altar. The villagers were sitting on the floor in family groups-silent, watching, waiting. She searched among them for her own knights, but Rognvald and the others were not there. She wondered where they might be hiding.

The priest, seeing Cait, opened his mouth to greet her, but the abbess cut him off saying, 'I came as soon as I received your message. Tell me, what is the urgency? And why are all the people here? Are they being held captive?'

'They are here to help us keep things from becoming, shall we say, needlessly complicated. Also, to pay their respects,' said de Bracineaux, rising slowly from his chair. 'After all, it is not every day an archbishop comes to call.'

At this, Bertrano also rose. 'God be good to you, abbess.' He introduced himself to her, and said, 'I think you will find that we are both serving at the pleasure of the pope and his Templars in this matter.'

'So it would appear,' answered the abbess. 'But perhaps someone could be so kind as to explain what it is that requires my most urgent attention.'

'It is very simple,' began the archbishop. 'Some little time ago, I received word that the Holy Cup of Christ was preserved in this village. Naturally, I was intrigued, and inasmuch as the stability of the region has lately come under threat due to the continuing reclamation of Christian lands from the Moors, I decided to seek advisement in th-'

'Enough!' said de Bracineaux sharply. He stepped forward, pushing past the archbishop. 'Thank you, Bertrano, for airing your explanation, but if we stay to hear you finish it, we will be here all night.'

He took his place before the two nuns, arms folded over his broad chest. 'Just tell me this,' he said, gazing sternly at the abbess, 'do you have the cup?'

'Yes,' answered Annora. 'The holy relic of which you speak resides at the convent.'

The commander's smile was greedy and wide. 'Good. His Holiness the pope has determined that the cup is to be delivered into my hands for safekeeping.'

'That I will not do,' answered Annora, 'until I know the reason. The Holy Cup has been in our possession since the Blessed Apostle himself came to Iberia. You cannot expect me to give it up without good reason.'

De Bracineaux's gaze grew fierce. 'Yet, I say you wi//give it up.'

'Allow me to speak,' put in the archbishop, interposing himself between them. 'This is my doing, for it was my letter which alerted the pope to the danger of losing the cup to the Moors.'

'Very well,' de Bracineaux growled. 'If it will help bring the matter to a close. We have wasted too much time here already.'

'Dear abbess,' said Bertrano, stepping close, 'the region is in turmoil; war and strife are rampant throughout all the land. It is the wish of His Holiness, the Patriarch of Rome, that the cup should be removed to a place where it can be guarded in all safety. You and the sisters of your order have performed your duty admirably well -indeed, I have nothing but the highest praise for your faithfulness and care, and I will see to it that the pope learns of your long obedience -but you must see that the time has come to make better arrangements for the safekeeping of what is certainly Christendom's single most valuable object. It simply cannot reside here any longer-that much, at least, must be clear to you.'

Annora's face hardened. 'It is clear to me that you have created a problem where none existed. Certainly, now that the world knows about the Holy Chalice its continued safety is compromised.' Her thin lips pressed themselves into a line of harsh disapproval.

'Just so,' conceded Bertrano. 'I am sorry.' His remorseful gaze drifted to the Templar commander, and he added, 'You will never know the depth of my regret.'

'There!' said de Bracineaux, impatience pinching his tone. 'You have heard the reason. Will you now give us the cup?'

'We may be secluded here in the mountains, but we are not blind to the dangers you mention,' the abbess replied crisply. 'It would seem the time has come to make better arrangements for the cup's safekeeping.'

'Then you will give us the cup?' said de Bracineaux, his tone rising to a demand.

'If the archbishop assures me in the name of his holy and sacred office that all he has told me is true, and that this has been ordained by his superiors in the faith,' Annora regarded Bertrano closely, 'then, yes, I will deliver the Sacred Cup of Christ to you.'

'Abbess, no -' objected Cait, dismayed by what she was hearing. She reached out to take Annora's arm, as if to protest the decision. De Bracineaux saw the movement, and his hand snaked out, seizing her by the wrist.

'I think,' he said, 'the abbess has made a wise decision.'

Revolted by the touch, Cait jerked her hand free from his grasp. As she did so, the hood slipped back on her head and the side of her face came into view. She quickly replaced it, but de Bracineaux continued to stare at her.

The archbishop also saw, and opened his mouth to speak, but the abbess took Cait by the shoulder and turned her towards the door. 'Wait for me outside, sister.' As Cait moved away, the abbess turned to face the archbishop. 'Well? What is your answer?'

'Good abbess,' said Bertrano, watching as Cait departed, 'I am Archbishop of Santiago de Compostela, and however much I might wish it was otherwise at this moment, all I have said of this matter is true. However loathsome it is to find myself in agreement with the commander, nevertheless, on my holy and sacred office, I do assure you of my veracity. But know that it is with a heavy and contrite heart that I do so.'