“And you think I would arrange to kidnap a woman?”
“Shhhhh. Keep your voice down,” Gilda said, then blushed when she realized to whom she was speaking. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Justin grinned. “It runs in the family,” he commented to Lothar.
Gilda narrowed her eyes at Justin before directing a question to Lothar. “If not you, and not the queen, who do you think would do such a thing?”
“Couldn’t it have been some ordinary bandits? I understand outlaws survive by preying upon travelers along that route.”
“According to Chetwynd, the leader was later seen in the queen’s party,” Justin answered.
Lothar smiled smugly. “That supports my theory. I tell you that Jezebel is capable of anything.”
Justin was about to give up when Gilda asked, “What about one of the church fathers? From what I understand, Bishop Agobard was behind the plot to use Gerberga to discredit the queen.”
Both Gilda and Justin were watching Lothar, wondering if he would confide in them. He took his time, clearly thinking about how much he should say.
“I did know about the plot to discredit the queen. My dear stepmother was telling people that Gerberga predicted Charles would be the next emperor. The church fathers worked hard for many years to establish a succession that would keep the empire strong and were understandably upset by Gerberga’s prediction.
“Several of the bishops arranged to have Judith banished, claiming she had been bewitched by Gerberga. The queen brought it upon herself, and I supported their plan. It seemed logical. As I’m sure you remember, Louis himself banished two of his sisters to a nunnery when he first became emperor. They were said to consort with many different men. In my eyes, Judith is no different.
“But I had nothing to do with Gerberga’s execution. One of the bishops took matters into his own hands and had a quick trial. Gerberga was an old enemy. If nothing else, you should believe I’m smarter than to make a martyr of Gerberga. Her death defeats the whole purpose of the plot. Now there is no reason to confine Judith to a convent. She can’t be influenced by a dead nun.”
Lothar was pacing while he spoke. When he finished, he sat down and leaned his head back against the chair. “I think it’s time for me to return to Rome. I’m truly sorry I lost my temper with Lord Chetwynd. His connection with the queen and the bad timing of his arrival pushed me beyond good sense.”
Justin appreciated the frankness with which Lothar spoke. “I wonder if we will ever find out who was behind Isabel’s kidnapping,” he said. “I can’t really believe that one of the bishops was involved. They might view Gerberga as a threat to Christianity because of some of her practices, but I doubt they would view Chetwynd as a threat to their plans, despite his connection to Judith. The more we learn, the more puzzling the kidnapping seems.”
IN THE GREAT HALL, MARIANNA, INGRAM, AND Jerome were nervously keeping a vigil for Justin’s return. Marianna had told them that Isabel had gone to seek Chetwynd in the dungeon, disguised as a serving maid. When Isabel did not return with Herlinda, Marianna blamed herself and sought out Chetwynd’s men. Although Ingram had been upset that Marianna had allowed her mistress to attempt such a folly, her distress tempered his reprimand. Ingram knew that King Lothar had summoned Justin, and he guessed it had something to do with Chetwynd and Isabel.
There were a few men drinking and speaking loudly at a nearby table, but the large hall was almost empty. Each time someone entered the hall, the three turned to see if it was Justin or Gilda returning. When it happened again, Marianna’s eyes widened. She recognized the new arrival.
“It’s him,” she whispered urgently.
“Who?” Ingram asked, recognizing the man before she could reply. He lowered his head and whispered to Jerome. “It’s the leader of the kidnappers.”
Jerome turned away as though he had no interest in the man. Then before either of the other two could move, he casually stood up and walked toward where the man had taken a seat across the room. The newcomer stared at Jerome for a minute before dismissing the small young man as an unlikely threat. But when he turned away, Jerome jumped the outlaw from behind. Ingram had guessed his intention and was there to help by the time Jerome had wrestled the man to the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHETWYND’S HEAD ACHED. WANTING TO stay alert, he had refused the powder the physician offered him. However, he had accepted a damp cloth, and it was draped over his eyes as he lay on the bench. His ribs were sore, but other than a bump on the head and bruised ribs, the guards had inflicted no serious damage. That fact didn’t make Chetwynd feel any better. He should have fought harder, overpowered the guards, and rescued Isabel from Lothar.
He groaned at the thought. He should have kept his head and done nothing, but Isabel’s scream and the knife at her throat had broken his composure. It was only later he realized that she had screamed because the guards were beating him. Even the idea that she might be hurt had driven him mad, and it still did. He jumped up and threw the cloth at the wall.
The physician had sworn that Isabel was fine, but he could have been lying to protect Lothar. Although why Lothar would need to be protected from a man locked in a cell was difficult to understand. Chetwynd moved to the door and made yet another unsuccessful attempt to force it open by ramming it with his shoulder. The resulting pain
