Chapter 5
That evening, after the bowls and tables from the evening meal had been cleared away, Luitgard followed Justin to his alcove. His back was to her and he appeared to be untying the belt of his robes as she approached. He gave a start and turned around when she said a greeting.
She had talked with him so much when he was seated or kneeling that she had forgotten how tall he was. Her heart skipped as his blue eyes locked onto hers. Her encounters with the Goddess were truly making her go insane. The simple matter of maintaining her composure around this man was becoming a struggle.
"Do you require my help with any more work?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No," she replied. "I was wondering if you would walk with me so that we could discuss some things."
Even as she made the request, she wondered why. She had intended simply to ask the question again and leave when he had answered. She also felt that no matter what he said, it would change nothing of her conviction to return to Rome.
He nodded. "Lead the way."
She walked outside and down the manor steps with him following close behind. When she reached the narrow paths, now deserted that everyone had sought refuge inside for the night, she slowed so that they could talk easily. The chill of the night still had not settled and she found the mild warmth pleasing.
"Have you given any more thought to what I asked you this morning?"
"I have," he replied.
"And would you care to share your thoughts with me?"
"I still do not know."
She felt her blood rise to her throat but forced it back down. That was hardly something helpful enough she could take to Sieglinde and she needed Sieglinde' s approval. There would need to be arrangements for the teaching of the Goddess Maids. Sieglinde would likely need to find an assistant to help while she was away. Preparations needed to be made. No matter how much Luitgard would love to flee into the night on her quest, it was simply not practical for anyone including herself.
Forcing calm, she asked, "Why do you not know?"
Justin took a deep breath. "I do not know how the Church would welcome my return," he said. "Did they hope I would return with God's truth as they claimed or did they expect me to die out here? If it was the latter, my return could mean a swift end to my life."
"And if it is the former?" she pressed. She needed his reassurance and yet had no reason to believe he would give it.
"Then I need to know why they thought I would find truth here," he said. "I have been made a puppet and I dislike the feeling very much." He paused. "I know what I would do if I went back," he said. "I would seek an audience with the Pope to ask him directly."
"Would you tell him of us?" she asked.
He stopped to turn towards her. His face was ill-defined in the dusk, but his blue eyes were as clear as ever. "I promise you that the inquisitors themselves could torture me and I would never tell them of your people."
She did not want to seem ungrateful but she also did not want to be a fool. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because you were right," he said. "The only thing your people lack for is violence and hatred. Whether you know it or not, you are living Jesus' teachings when the rest of the world has failed. I could never be a part of destroying that."
She had no idea what to think. His references to his religion caused a reflex of anger to percolate within her gut and yet his sincerity and the fact that he had praised her people quelled it quickly.
"Are priests allowed to lie?" she asked, smiling.
"Not at all," he replied without hesitation.
"Yet, some do."
"We are still men."
"And you? Are you one of those men?"
He did not take his eyes from hers. "I try my best not to be," he said.
She laughed. "I think we have already discussed how lacking your best has proven." She looked over at the completed storehouse. "Though your best at hard labour seems to be very good indeed. Maybe that alone is telling me to keep you here. Would you despise a life living amongst us?"
He shook his head. "I could find God's truth here," he said.
She swelled with pride. "I'm impressed. Even this morning, I would never have thought you that open minded."
"You would be surprised how much a journey to a different culture can change you."
She turned her face to look into his eyes but he was staring at the storehouse. Something in his tone had seemed meaningful. Did he know what she was considering? She had been careful to leave out any mention of her accompanying him to Rome yet she could have sworn he knew.
"Thank you for this talk," she said. "Maybe one of these days I will finally teach you how to answer a question properly. Evasion does not suit you."
"You mistake confusion for evasion," he said without showing any sign that she had offended him. "Evasion implies knowledge I do not possess."
"We both know you possess far more than you seem willing to share with me, but for now I will accept it."
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Goodnight, Justin," she said.
He looked up at her.
"Adalbern told me," she explained. "I will see you in the morning when we may have more to discuss."
"Goodnight," he said in reply.
He did not follow as she walked back to the manor.
Sieglinde was sitting by the window when Luitgard returned to their room. Her body was dimly illuminated by a single candle on the shelf between their beds. As the flame was buffeted by drafts, the light and shadows danced together on Sieglinde's gown.
"Did he give you an answer?" she asked immediately without looking away from the open window.
Luitgard nodded as she walked over to the chest at the end of her bed and opened it. "We have nothing to fear if he returns to Rome," she said.
Sieglinde looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Are you sure of that? He could have said anything just to get you to release him."
"It was not his words that convinced me," she said. "It was his face and his movements. I am not even sure he wants to go to Rome."
"Why would a friar be afraid to go to Rome?" Sieglinde wondered.
"A very good question," Luitgard replied as she pulled off her dress. "One that convinces me more than ever than I must return there."
"You are being reckless."
"I am being honest with myself," Luitgard shot back. "I need to do this Sieglinde. I need to find out for sure that Dragonfather is not in Rome. I need to know for sure that we remain hidden from the Church's eyes. I will never sleep again if I do not do this. He will not betray us. I know he won't."
Sieglinde stood up and walked to the chest at the end of Luitgard's bed. She knelt down before it and tipped open the lid. Reaching inside, she shuffled through the folds of different fabrics until her arms were nearly immersed to her elbows. After another moment rummaging through the contents, she withdrew her hands, which were clasped around something three hand lengths long and wrapped in brown linen.
She stood, walked over to Luitgard, and held out the item. It was heavy. Luitgard nearly dropped it as she took it. She unwrapped it to reveal a dagger with the body of a wyvern carved along its white handle. Her breath caught in her throat. She looked up at her sister priestess.
"Perhaps it will lead you to your grandfather," she said. "If not ... the journey to Rome is long. You should have plenty of time to watch him and learn if he is lying. If he is, wait until he is asleep."
Luitgard choked, "I could never ... "
Sieglinde was unsympathetic. "If you insist on taking this journey, you must accept the possibility. You may be endangering us all if the Church discovers who you are. Promising me that you will do what needs to be done to protect us is the least you owe us for that risk."
"Then you will let me go?" Luitgard asked. Her chest was tight. Having the dagger in her hands, the same one the Goddess had been holding when she told her to go to Rome, made getting there seem that much more imperative.
"You w
ould run away if you had to," Sieglinde said as she walked to her bed and began to undress. "If I accept your insistence to leave, we can at least take precautions and prepare for your departure properly. Tomorrow morning, we will both meet with the friar and then with Adalbern to discuss the arrangements."
"Thank you, Sieglinde," Luitgard whispered.
Her sister priestess blew out the candle without waiting for Luitgard to get into her own bed and gave a large, audible sigh. "Do not thank me," she said. "I hate you for this and if any harm comes to us or to you, I will never forgive you. Goodnight."
Luitgard stared at the dark lump that was Sieglinde on her bed. There was nothing she could say.