Ian chuckled. “By all reports she has been very helpful with Becca Green. She is mature beyond her years, is Miranda.”
“And a blessing upon this house and the next, I see.” Bumble clasped his hands together in his lap as Catherine swept out of the room. “I apologize for only having sent Mr. Beecher to visit you, but there has been a great deal of work to be done in anticipation.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “I must have missed something. Anticipation of…?”
“Of putting Ezekiel Fire on trial for heresy.”
“Really.” Ian’s flesh tightened. “I must say, Bishop, that I do not remember anything out of the ordinary. No bloody sacrifices, no obscene rituals.”
“One could hardly expect they would reveal the same to outsiders.” The older man cocked his head to the side. “Still, the Happy Valley community practiced plural marriage, worshipped golden tablets, and was made up of people willing to sacrifice themselves and their children, and did so beyond the borders of Crown-sanctioned holdings. This also placed him outside the jurisdiction of the Church. He had no bishop above him and belonged to no established diocese.”
Ian winced as he lifted and resettled his leg. “I don’t wish to argue with you, but I believe there are a number of colonial villages in the west in which plural marriage is practiced. I sincerely doubt all of them are formally part of a diocese.”
Bumble raised his hands. “There may have to be allowances for what some people do in innocence. Whereas, Ezekiel Fire chose a murderer and notorious drunkard as his lieutenant.”
“We were told that Rufus Branch had not touched a drop of alcohol in years.”
“Believe me, Colonel, I do not fault you nor anyone else for being deceived by Fire.” The man turned. “Mrs. Strake, you really shouldn’t have.”
Catherine returned with a silver service in hand and set the tray down on a small table. She poured through a strainer for each man, adding two spoonfuls of sugar for the cleric. She handed Ian his tea, strong and black.
Bumble looked up. “You don’t take sugar or milk, Colonel?”
Catherine answered for him. “Colonel Rathfield developed a taste for his tea without adulterations in the field. One cannot always be certain to get milk and sugar on the march.”
Bumble stirred quietly. “Yes, ghastly thing, being on the march. I joined them, you know, going to Anvil Lake. Mud to my waist, biting bugs, profanity, all quite horrible.”
Catherine plated a small cake and offered it to Ian. “To say nothing of the actual fighting, your Grace?”
“Yes, of course. As your husband might know, Mrs. Strake, or the Colonel here.”
Ian watched Catherine stiffen and leaned forward. “Catherine, if you would not mind. That cushion. I promise, it will be the last I bother you.”
“No bother at all, Ian.” She straightened a cushion by pulling it to the side then sliding it back exactly where it had been. “If you need anything more, please, just call out.”
The Bishop, catching cake crumbs on a plate placed beneath his chins, nodded.
Ian waited for her to disappear before he set his tea down on a side table. “To be honest, Bishop Bumble, I am not at all certain we were deceived by Steward Fire. Branch may well have deceived him, but the man who traveled with us to Piety and back seemed quite sincere. Were he one to mock or tempt, he had more than enough opportunity to do so.”
“Really?”
Ian deliberately took a large bite from the cake he’d been offered. He found it dry and largely tasteless- consisting more of sawdust and salt than anything sweet. He would have washed it down immediately with tea, but that would have freed him to speak. He wanted the time that chewing and swallowing afforded him to cover his reaction.
The Bishop clearly was inviting him to talk about any theological discussions on the trail. Save for Makepeace Bone, all of them had made remarks that could have been interpreted as critical of the Church, whether they were meant to be or not. While Ian knew that his companions had tolerated him more than respected him, he didn’t want to reveal anything to the cleric which could come back to haunt them.
Ian sipped tea. “Yes, well, of course, as you saw in your time in the wilderness, men can be coarse and crude, even given to profanity. I will admit to uttering a curse or three myself. Had he wished to manipulate our view of him, he could have done so.”
“I see.” Bumble nodded solemnly. “Now when Mr. Beecher came to visit, he said you could remember nothing of the other matter we had talked about. Has your head cleared since then?”
Ian set his cup and saucer down. “I am not certain, Bishop, that Mr. Beecher serves you in the best way.”
“What do you mean?”
“He made a veiled reference to a matter which I had addressed with you, in the confidence of the confessional, if you will recall.” Ian allowed a scowl to steal over his features. “I fear the man may have listened in to our conversation. Not thinking him a safe conduit for information, I complained of a headache which clouded my recollection.”
“I see.”
“I apologize for causing you undue upset about your aide.”
The rotund man shook his head, his chins quivering. “Calm yourself on that count, sir. You must understand, sir, that Mr. Beecher did not listen into our conversation. I told him everything you told me.”
Ian blinked and sagged back. “You what?”
“Colonel, it is my duty to see to the spiritual life of everyone within my diocese. What you revealed to me is most troubling, and I would have been remiss if I did not inform Mr. Beecher. In the event I am unable to perform my duties, my responsibilities will fall to him.”
Ian glanced off toward the room’s far corner, avoiding the man’s gaze. “But what I told you in the confessional, you used to pressure me into undertaking special work for you in the wilderness.”
Bumble, eyes wide, set the cake plate down forthwith. “In the name of Heaven, sir, I apologize if that is how it appeared to you. I merely wished you to understand that as you trusted me with your most closely held secret, so I trusted you with a mission of incredibly great importance. If… if you felt I coerced you in any way, if Mr. Beecher gave you the impression that your secret would become public… well, sir, I understand your outrage and I offer you a most sincere apology.”
Ian shifted in the chair. “You will forgive me, sir, for making such a mistake.”
“Of course, of course.” Bumble’s smile spread across his face. “I do have to ask, however, if you saw anything concerning what we discussed.”
“I do not recall anything which indicated Steward Fire was practicing or causing his people to practice magicks.”
“Did you not tell Mr. Beecher that Fire prevented Woods and Strake from shooting Rufus Branch?”
Ian frowned, his head beginning to throb. “I told your aide that Woods and Strake both reported being unable to fire their rifles, but I have no proof that there truly was such a prohibition. To be frank, they had been having me on about all manner of things during the journey. I thought this might well be yet another of their amusements.”
“Are you certain that is how you remember it?”
“What are you implying?”
“I imply nothing, Colonel. I am asking if you have had time to reconsider what you remember.” Bumble brushed a crumb from his black coat. “You see, you are correct that the evidence against Fire is circumstantial at this point. Were you to recall his using magick in an inappropriate way, or making outright heretical claims, doing what must be done would be much easier.”
“But what if he is innocent?”
“I can assure you he is not.”
“And how do you know that?”
Bumble fell silent for a moment, then pressed his hands together in his lap. “The man was a promising student of mine many years ago. While he served under me, he seduced my wife. For her sake we have revealed this to no one. To punish us for our vanity, God made her barren. So I know the evil which has curled itself in his heart. I wished to deal with him, but he vanished years ago. I only wish I had acted more courageously. The people
