They kept moving.
“You there.” The voice was more urgent. She noticed Donald’s hand go to the hilt of his dirk. The expression on his face startled her. He was smiling and nodding at passers-by as if nothing was wrong.
“Get your dog away from here.”
Andrea let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. They moved on.
They left the market square and turned down the lane toward the back of the cathedral. Once on the abandoned trail, they picked up speed, but still did not race for fear of bringing attention to themselves.
“The bishop knows more than he’s telling us,” Donald said.
“And you’re worried whether we can trust him and the comte. Especially after what we experienced with Mother Simone. I would have liked to look at the parchment Lady Abadia gave us.” Andrea rode at his side. She could see the shimmering reflection of the sun on the water ahead.
“I would have, as well. Right now, we must be cautious. There is no time to stop.” They came to the pond and the vine-covered wall. “I don’t see a door.”
“You go to the right and I’ll go to the left. Look beneath the greenery,” Andrea said.
They dismounted and hurried along the wall, pushing aside the vines, looking for a way out.
“Here it is,” Andrea called. He hurried to her side.
“This isn’t a door. It’s too small.” He unlatched the bolt. “This hasn’t been used in years.”
Together, they pushed the door open. “We’ll be lucky if the horses make it through.”
“Ebony is smaller. We’ll take her first,” Andrea said. She brought the horse to the opening, but her horse shied away.
“Come on, girl. There are oats for you on the other side.” Andrea still couldn’t get the animal to cooperate. “Bring your horse through first, perhaps that will settle her.”
Donald had little difficulty. His horse lowered his head and made his way to the other side.
Andrea tried again, but Ebony would have no part of it.
“Give me your shawl,” he said to her.
Donald took the shawl and approached Ebony, speaking softly and stroking her. Finally, he put the material across the horse’s eyes and led her toward the opening.
The horse fussed, but Donald kept crooning until they emerged on the other side.
Andrea continued to soothe the animal while he covered their tracks, then put his shoulder to the door, closed it, and mounted up.
“It’s forty miles to Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise. We’ll only stop to rest the horses and for our own convenience. We can’t depend that whoever is after us won’t figure out where we’ve gone.”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded. She was just as eager to leave Amiens behind.
Once they were out of view of the city, he set a quick, steady pace. They rode too fast to have a conversation. They went on, each in their own thoughts.
She had no idea what he was thinking. He was clever to see the path to Calais, but could the map be trusted?
The morning sun climbed high. It was early afternoon and time to stop.
“The Authie River is up ahead. We’ll let the horses rest there.”
Once the horses were cared for, Andrea sat on a fallen log near the river and ate the bread and cheese Bette had given them.
“You’ve been very quiet,” she said.
“What do you know about this relic?”
She glanced at the river and didn’t answer.
“You knew your quest was dangerous, and you didn’t tell your uncle. You certainly didn’t tell me.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I was afraid if I told anyone—”
“They would prevent you from going.” He stood by a tree, his arm raised, looking across the river. He was silent for a while then turned to her. “Do you have any idea what we may be facing? Did you ever think that if this relic has been hidden for hundreds of years and has the power Lady Abadia alluded to, maybe it should stay hidden?”
She stood, the cheese and bread falling to the ground.
“Yes, I thought very hard and long. And yes, I have kept something from you. There is a prediction that swirls around this relic that has to do with the Seeker and the Sword. Only they can confine the power.”
“And you saw yourself as the Seeker.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“No, I saw myself as the last in the family line. Alain may have been the last male, but I am the last female and the only person that can take action. All the documents I read reference my mother’s family.”
He turned to her, disbelief on his face.
“I started my quest because I thought how odd it was that my mother’s family name was mentioned in the documents. That’s what drove me. That challenge to learn my family heritage has taken on a different meaning.”
“If this is a game, it is a deadly one. Two people are dead, and someone ransacked our room and now follows us. Who are you?”
This was a different Donald, one she didn’t want to cross. He was entitled to the truth, or as much of it as she knew.
“Through my mother’s line, I am the last remaining member of the Abadia family other than Lady Abadia. With Alain dead, it is up to me to fulfill the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” He held her by the shoulders and shook her.
“I don’t know. When I find the—”
“Find what?”
Anger rolled off him in waves. Now she realized how wrong she was not to trust him. She should have told him everything.
“The Chalice of Power.”
He dropped his hands as if he had been burned.
“What else haven’t you told me?”
She didn’t say anything. How could she make him understand? Her quest wasn’t about her family. Her quest was about the bishop, Lady Abadia, Étienne and Bette, his brothers. Him. Her mission was as clear as if it was written on parchment.
He raked his hand through his hair and stomped away and paced the riverbank, his fisted hands at his sides.
She said nothing.
He came back toward her. With every step, the muscle along
