Chapter 11.4.2

I went to her and laid my hands upon her satin-covered waist, and played upon it as if it were my harp. I thought of my Elise as I did so, if her devotion and steadfast heart. Then I thought of Wallen and the Lady Laurice, of the Bard-in-training and the woman who would give everything she had to be with him. Barefoot, both of them, running over hill and dale to escape her father’s wrath.

Beneath my touch, she twisted back into my hands. Something had awakened within her, something that Christians tried to guard their women against. I could feel her hungering passion, which would soon be hunting for a target.

Was this how a Bard had claimed the heart of Wallen’s mother, and so earned a generation’s worth of misery for her people and her son?

On the couch, the Lady Laurice moaned softly. "Brother, you are wasted in that skirt."

"Is he that good?" The Lady Victoria glanced at me lightly. She played with a lock of her golden hair. "Perhaps I should introduce him to the wonders to be found without his vows."

"By the Virgin Mother!" Lady Laurice growled. "You will try for Saint Peter himself, at the very gates of Heaven! Let this monk be!"

"As you wish." The Lady Victoria rose, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Her gaze raked over me, and stopped at my bare feet. She opened her mouth, glanced at her Lady, and firmly shut it again.

I decided to leave quickly.

Straightening up, I signed a Heathen blessing on that fair waist, and turned to leave – then found myself face to face with another Silent Monk. My heart hammered – I was about to be exposed for the fake that I was.

The monk lifted his head enough for me to catch a glimpse of his features, and I saw that it was Wallen.

Taking an easy breath, but staying in character, I signed a greeting.

He returned the greeting, then said, "I see you have made peace with the Bard who meant to harm you."

But – what? Wallen already knew that. I looked down in puzzlement, and saw that his feet were calloused, tough – not torn by rocks and ice. I looked back at the monk’s face, and saw that he was not my lord. Not quite. But certainly close enough to be his brother.