could she do less?
'I will,' she replied at last.
'Then put aside your wrath, and believe. For it is written: 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord. In due time their foot will slip; the day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them.' Behold,' he said, pointing to the table behind her, 'this is the work I am giving you. When it is finished, you shall receive the desires of your heart.'
She turned to look where he was pointing and saw a parchment document-a formal-looking communication in Latin. The image on the broken seal looked regal, and the signature at the bottom of the document was in red ink-as were the words Rosa Mystica.
Cait picked up the letter and turned to ask what it was the White Priest wanted her to do. But he was gone, and she was alone once more. She looked at the letter in her hand, but before she could read any of it, de Bracineaux shouted from the other room. 'Here! You! Get away from there!1
'For the love of God, de Bracineaux, leave the wench be,' said d'Anjou.
'I will see her off,' said Gislebert. He rose from the table and lumbered in from the balcony.
Taking up the tray once more, Cait whipped the folded parchment out of sight beneath it. She turned and made a slight bow towards the men, then bolted from the room. Gislebert watched her go, and then moved to the door, closing it firmly after her.
She stepped out into the corridor once more. Alethea was hovering in the passageway, wringing her hands and looking as if she had swallowed a mouse. 'Are you all right?' she asked as Cait emerged from the chamber.
'No thanks to you,' snapped Cait. 'You were supposed to warn me.'
'He surprised me.'
'Yes, he surprised me too.'
'Now you are angry,' pouted Alethea. 'He came up behind me and caught me lingering by the door and told me to get about my business. What could I do?'
They moved quickly off along the corridor. Returning to the vestibule, Cait laid the tray aside and, while Thea kept watch, drew on her mantle once more and tucked the parchment away; then the two women descended the stairs and retraced their steps outside where, as arranged, the chair and bearers were still waiting. They climbed into the chair, and Cait instructed Philippianous to take them to the Bucoleon Harbour.
'Well?' demanded Alethea, as they passed through the gate and back into the street once more. 'What happened? Did you see him?'
'I saw him,' muttered Cait.
'Well, what did he say?'
'Nothing.'
'You were in there a long time. He must have said something,' insisted Alethea.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cait caught Philippianous leaning towards them so as to overhear their discussion. 'Not now,' Cait told her sister. 'Later,'
'I want to hear it now.'
'Shut up, you stupid girl,' Cait blurted, changing to Gaelic. 'They are listening to us.'
'All very well for you,' squeaked Alethea indignantly, 'Lady Caitriona gets to do whatever she likes, while I have to be her dutiful slave.'
Cait turned away from her sister and watched the activity in the streets instead. Fires bright in iron braziers and countless oil lamps illumined the night with a garish glow. In some of the broader avenues, musicians played-pipe and lute, tambour and lyre-and people danced, hands upraised, stepping lightly as they spun and turned. Occasionally, an enterprising merchant would approach the passing chair and offer his wares: bangles and necklaces of coloured glass beads, pots of perfumed unguent, satin ribbons, and tiny bunches of dried flowers for the ladies' hair.
The variety and charm of the baubles distracted Alethea from her sister's stinging rebuke, and she would have stopped and bought trinkets from them all, but Cait instructed Philippianous and his bearers to move on. As they neared the seafront, the streets became quieter and darker-the houses meaner, the people more furtive, sinister. Arriving at the harbour, however, the seamen and sailors drinking wine and playing dice on the wharf gave the quayside a less threatening atmosphere.
More than one lonely seafarer licked his lips hopefully as the two women stepped from the chair. One or two of the younger men called to them, offering wine and an evening's entertainment. 'As agreed,' said Cait, dropping a stack of small silver coins into Philippianous' outstretched hand. 'And, as promised, a little extra for your trouble.' She dropped a few more coins into his hand.
'This,' she said, taking out a single gold solidus, 'is for forgetting you ever saw us. Do you think you can do that?'
'Most certainly, gracious lady.' He reached for the coin eagerly.
She snatched it back. 'I beg your pardon?'
A sly smile appeared on his face. 'Is someone speaking? I see no one here.'
She let the coin slip through her fingers. 'Excuse me, I think you must have dropped something.'
'How clumsy of me,' replied Philippianous, bending to retrieve the coin. When he straightened, the two women were already hurrying away.
Cait and Alethea moved quickly towards the ship Persephone at the end of the wharf, ignoring the shouted pleas and propositions their presence provoked. Once aboard, they were met by Haemur. 'Thank God you are safe,' he said, hurrying from his place at the stern. 'It grew dark, and when you did not return, I feared something ill had befallen you.'
Cait thanked the pilot for his concern, and said, 'We are perfectly well, as you see. But now, I want you to wake Otti and Olvir, and move the ship away from the wharf and into the bay.'
'Now?' Haemur thrust out his hands. 'But, my lady, it is too dark. We cannot -'
'Enough, Haemur.' Cait stopped him with an upraised hand. 'I would not insist if it was not important.'
With that, she went to the brass lamp hanging from a hook on the mast, lit a candle from the basket on the deck, and proceeded to her quarters below, leaving an unhappy pilot staring after her.
'I am sorry, Haemur,' Alethea offered sympathetically. 'You had best do as she says, or there will be the devil to pay.'
'Very well,' replied the seaman. He hurried off to rouse his crew, and Alethea joined her sister in their quarters.
'You could try to be a little more -' she began, and then stopped as she saw Cait bring out the folded parchment from beneath her girdle. 'Where did you get that?' she asked, then guessed. 'You stole it!'
'Hush!' Cait snapped. Opening the letter, she sat down on the edge of the box bed to read it.
Alethea watched her sister for a moment; then, indignation overcome by curiosity, she joined her on the bed. 'What is it? What does it say?'
Cait ignored her and continued to read silently to herself. When she finished, she looked up from the page. Thea, do you know what this is?'
'How can I? You tell me nothing.'
Cait made no reply. She was reading the document again.
'Well?' demanded Thea after a moment. 'What does it say?'
'They have found a very great treasure -'
'Who?'
'The greatest treasure in the world-that is what he says.'
'Who says? Who wrote it?'
'A cleric called Bertrano. He calls it the Rosa Mystica.'
'The Mystic Rose?' mused Thea, none the wiser. 'What does that mean?'
Cait shook her head, scanning the document again. 'He says only that it is beyond price-see?' She pointed to the letters in the tight Latin uncials of the scriptorium, and read out the words: '… that which is beyond all price, the treasure of the ages, our very real and manifest hope for this present age and the kingdom to come, the Mystic Rose.'
Thea shrugged.
