At her words, Gilda remembered the scene the strangers had observed when they arrived at the garden shed. Justin had promised to silence them this morning, but he had found them gone. When she turned to him, he must have understood her anxiety.
“I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
“That’s what you said last night.”
“I didn’t know they’d be gone this morning, did I?”
At the same moment, they both became aware of Ermguerrd watching them. “I don’t think I want to know what this is about,” she said. “I’ll pray to God that your mission for the king will be successful.”
Later that morning the abbess blessed their journey more formally and waved them off. Gilda, mounted on a gentle horse she was familiar with, rode beside Freda. Their party also included Leonardo, a soldier from the palace guards who often acted as Justin’s assistant on his travels, and a servant named Matthew who led the packhorse. Both women had met Leonardo before, and although they weren’t introduced to Matthew, they had nodded a greeting.
The two men talked together as they rode, and Gilda couldn’t help but notice that they were a striking pair. Leonardo, fair of hair and skin, had the blue eyes of an angel and a smile full of mischief. In contrast, Justin was much more serious, but his dark, moody appearance had its own appeal.
Gilda smiled as she remembered Ermguerrd’s last words to her. “If you can manage to avoid coming to blows, I suspect you and Justin will work quite well together.”
Sister Freda must have noticed her expression. “You seem in good humor,” she commented in an accusing tone as she twisted in her saddle, hoping to find a more comfortable position. The nun was tall and strong but without much padding to help her sit comfortably in the small saddle she straddled.
“I enjoy traveling. I’ve been north to Aachen many times. I was born in Bordeaux, but I’ve never been across the mountains to Mainz.”
“And did you join the convent to travel the country?” Still cranky, Freda spoke in a chiding voice that carried easily.
“No, of course not,” Gilda answered. She could tell by the grin on Justin’s face as he turned toward her that he had overheard Freda’s words. “I just think that if we need to travel to do God’s work, we might as well enjoy the country he created.”
Gilda’s answer was directed at Justin as much as Freda. They seemed to share the view that she didn’t take her vocation seriously.
Freda shrugged. “In my day, there would be no need for this journey,” she said. “The entire matter would have been handled differently. Charlemagne was a much wiser ruler than his son Louis. He understood human nature. He wasn’t a slave to the dictates of Rome.”
Gilda knew that Freda was referring to the ease with which marriages had been ended twenty years earlier. Charles was King of the Franks before he became the Holy Roman Emperor and earned the nickname Charlemagne. The Franks often had more than one wife, and Charles didn’t press them to change their ways, even after Pope Leo III crowned him Holy Roman Emperor. But his son Louis was determined to be a truly Christian emperor and uphold the laws of the church, including the sanctity of marriage. As far as he was concerned, when a man and woman married, they became one for life.
Freda’s view was not uncommon among older nuns, although few voiced their opinion openly. The king and bishops insisted there were only a few cases where a marriage could be annulled. But many Franks, while desiring to be good Christians, were reluctant to accept the church’s dictates on ending marriages.
“I believe the abbess would advise you to speak carefully, Sister Freda,” Gilda warned in a low voice. She didn’t wish to be disrespectful to the older nun, but they were about to become involved in delicate investigations. It occurred to her that the outspoken Freda might not be the best companion for this task.
Freda seemed to understand her concern. “Don’t worry about me, Sister Gilda. I hold my tongue,” Freda muttered. “But I speak honestly when I can.”
Gilda nodded. She felt the same way and was glad to hear anything Freda had to offer on the subject as long as she was discreet. “Have you had any experience with Gunthar, the Bishop of Mainz?”
Freda checked to see that there was a distance between themselves and Lord Justin before answering in a low voice. “I met him once when I visited my nephew. He’s a monk at a monastery near Mainz. I don’t trust Gunthar. He looks like a toad and acts like a snake.”
Gilda burst into laughter, then covered her mouth with her hand when Justin turned around to peer back at her. She was still chuckling when he slowed his horse so she’d catch up to him. Freda lifted one eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, Sister Gilda,” Justin said. Actually, he had found her peal of laughter enchanting.
“Don’t look so surprised, Justin. Nuns do laugh from time to time. Between saying prayers and helping the poor.”
He grimaced, remembering his words about the duties appropriate for a nun. He had acted like a pompous fool.
When Gilda saw his expression, she relented. “When are we stopping to eat? I’m starving. I just told Freda that I was hungry enough to eat toads.”
The stern Freda didn’t exactly laugh, but her lips did turn up slightly.
Justin wondered how they could find such an expression amusing. “We’ll stop soon. Then tomorrow we’ll cross the mountains,” he replied. “It’s best to do that early in the morning when we’ve
