“Families have their histories and legends,” Lady Abadia said. “Our family is no different in some ways and very different in others.”
She paused. For a moment, Andrea thought her hostess would end the interview, but when Andrea took a deeper look realized the lady was deciding what and how to tell her story.
“The legend was protected by the men in the family and was handed down to the eldest son. I know only a small piece. I will gladly tell you what I know.
“Many hundreds of years ago a relic was enchanted. An antidote to power to be held by only one strong of heart. I thought the story was an old folk tale that families hand down from one generation to the next. If I had known what the tale would cost, I may have behaved differently.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a linen she took out of her sleeve.
“My husband went with his king on the Crusade. He said his honor was at stake. Alain and I were proud of his participation. As news reached us I lost my enthusiasm. Finally, we were told that the king had fallen, as had his close retinue. Alain and I knew my husband was dead. The next day Alain prepared to go to Tunis. How I begged him not to go. I remember his soulful gaze before he mounted his horse. He was going to bring back his father’s body. I told him god would bless the body wherever his father was. That is when he told me about the ring, his father’s signet. It was the key to opening the reliquary box my husband kept buried under a hearth stone.”
“My lady, why give the map to us?” Donald asked.
“My son was the last of the male line and well aware he might not return. His instructions to me were clear if he did not come back – give the contents of the box to whomever inquired about the treasure beyond measure and returned the ring to me. After all these decades of keeping its contents safe I asked him why. Alain said the Seeker and the Sword would know what to do.” She faced Donald and Andrea. “You two must be the ones I have been waiting for. No one else had the ring, or the words treasure beyond measure. Only you.”
Donald glanced at Andrea. Was this what she was after? They should get up now, thank Lady Abadia, leave, and burn the pieces of parchment the first chance they got. But the expression on Andrea’s face made that impossible.
No matter what he said or did, she was pursuing this treasure beyond measure. There was no way to shake some sense into her. A small voice echoed in his head – or was it his heart? Protect Andrea. Leaving her now, to go on alone or with anyone else, was not a possibility.
He brought his attention back to Lady Abadia and could not help but stare. Her face was warm. A gentle smile touched her lips. Her skin looked radiant.
“Lord Eden, Mademoiselle Ricard. You have both done me a service. You’ve brought me peace of mind in fulfilling my son’s request. But if you’ll forgive me. I’d like to look at the other treasures you’ve returned to me, in private.”
“By all means.” He and Andrea stood, and left the content woman in the garden examining her treasure.
“I’m eager to look at the map before we leave.” Andrea slowed her step and pointed to the man hurrying toward them with two horses in tow. “Isn’t that the bishop?”
Donald glanced where she pointed, then hurried ahead of her.
“Your Excellency. What is it?” Donald took the horses from the bishop as she caught up.
“Bette came to the cathedral. A man barged into the inn asking for you. While Étienne spoke to him, she went to clean your room and found it in shambles.
“Luckily, Étienne had your horses packed and ready for you. She came to warn you and brought the animals with her. The intruder was told you left before sunrise.”
“Étienne?” He looked in the direction of the inn.
The bishop placed his hand on his arm.
“Do not worry about him. You and Andrea must leave Amiens immediately. Did you tell anyone other than me that you were going to Calais?”
“No. Not even Andrea. She found out when I mentioned Calais to you.”
“That is good. Whoever you meet on your way, keep your destination to yourself.”
Donald helped Andrea onto her horse.
“Your Excellency. We have so many questions.” Donald mounted his horse.
“I know, but now is not the time for answers.”
“The lady. She needs—” Andrea said.
“I will see to her. You must leave now. Here is a letter for you to take to Guy IV of Châtillon, Comte of Saint-Pol, in Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise. He will help you both with a place to rest. Treat the knowledge you have gotten as if it were true, even if you are in doubt. I wish I could give you more guidance. The comte can be trusted, but the knowledge you carry is best not shared with anyone, even him.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Keeping your lady and yourself safe would be thanks enough.” The bishop looked down the lane, then back at Donald. “Don’t use the north gate. Take the lane behind the cathedral. It’s not well traveled. Follow it to the pond. The town wall covered in vines will be on your right. Look carefully and you’ll find a door. I will come later and lock it. And Lord Eden…”
Donald faced the bishop.
“It’s market day. Don’t rush. Make sure you blend into the crowd.”
They didn’t say good-bye. They turned their horses and made their way at an easy pace through the market. With great control, they forced themselves to be casual and not look like they were desperately fleeing.
“You
