'My family owns an estate on one of the Orkneyjar islands,' the knight confided. 'They tell me I visited there once with my family, but I cannot even remember which island it was.'
They talked amiably, passing the time as they rode along, each enjoying the easy companionship of the other-until Alethea grew bored riding by herself and decided to join them, whereupon the pleasant mutual feeling gradually shrivelled under Alethea's irritating whining about the heat, the dullness of the countryside, the sun in her eyes, how thirsty she was, how rough the saddle, and how disagreeable her mount.
'I cannot see why we have to ride anyway,' she complained. 'You should have bought a carriage instead, and then we could travel like queens.'
'If only everything was that easy.'
Three days after entering the Valle de Mena, they came to the walled trading town of Burgos, paused briefly to replenish their provisions, and then set off again before anyone made bold to stop them. Four days after that, they arrived at Palencia.
The town had faded somewhat from its glory under the Roman legion of Lucus Augusti. The crumbling garrison still stood; having served several generations of Muhammedan rulers as a stable and armoury, it was now a monastery in sore need of a new roof. The old Roman walls remained in good repair, however, and protected the town and its inhabitants from the Moorish raiders infesting the hills, preying on the foolish and unwary.
Owing to the king's ban on travel, the local farmers and merchants were effectively cut off from their trading partners to the west. Consequently, they seized on the newcomers' arrival with an interest that far exceeded the significance of their visit. As Cait and her entourage dismounted in the town square, one of the onlookers ran to inform the magistrate that important visitors had arrived. The magistrate and his young assistant came on the run to offer an official welcome.
The town's governor was a smooth-shaven man with a frizzled fringe of dark hair which he tried to keep under a red cap shaped like a deeply notched bowl. Pushing the eager townsfolk aside, he cleared a place for himself in the crowd and then addressed the visitors. 'Most noble lady,' he began, bestowing on Cait the sort of bow usually reserved for royalty, 'friends, travellers, allow me to introduce myself. I am Carlo de la Coruna, magistrate and governor of this fine and prosperous town.' His deputy smiled and bowed, too, in anticipation of being introduced to the handsome noblewomen and their broad-shouldered, fearsome entourage, but his superior ploughed ahead without so much as a wink in his direction.
'On behalf of the worthy citizens of Palencia,' the magistrate announced, 'I welcome you and your excellent company. Furthermore, I invite you all to be our special guests at a feast to be held in your honour tonight. Please, rest and take your ease while you are here. Be assured we will do all we can to assist you in every possible way for as long as you care to remain with us.'
Cait thanked him kindly, and said that she and her travelling companions would be delighted to attend the feast, and asked whether there might be a convenient moment for herself and the magistrate to discuss matters privately. 'As it happens, a few small concerns have arisen. I would be grateful for your counsel, Magistrate Coruna. I am certain they will pose no difficulty for a man of your obvious wisdom and authority.'
The magistrate's cheeks took on a rosy glow under Cait's well-aimed flattery. He ducked his head in hasty assent, and said, 'With pleasure, my lady. If you would deign to join me in the courtyard of my house during sixta, we might discuss your concerns over a cooling drink.'
Cait smiled, but hesitated. Spending the rest of the day with the obliging bumpkin of a magistrate might have its uses, but foremost among her concerns was locating the priest called Brother Matthias. Lord Rognvald saw her hesitation, however, and, leaning close, confided, 'Go and see if you can charm him into getting us a wagon and some tents.'
'The priest -'
'I will find him.'
Cait smiled at the eager official. 'My sister and I would be honoured, magistrate.'
'Your men, however, may wish to observe the-ah… usual formalities at our most excellent inn,' suggested the magistrate delicately.
1 am certain they would like nothing better.' Turning to Rognvald, she instructed him to take his men to the inn and see that the formalities were, in fact, observed. 'Take Abu with you, and make certain everyone is washed and prepared for this evening's festivities.' As the knight inclined his head in assent, Cait added in a whisper: 'Find Matthias. Tell him we wish to speak to him tomorrow. I will see what I can do about the wagon and tents.'
Turning to the magistrate, Cait smoothly linked his arm in hers and allowed him to escort her across the square-much to the satisfaction of the townspeople, pleased to see their governor esteemed by such distinguished and obviously important visitors. Upon reaching the archway which marked the entrance to the square, Carlo turned to his assistant. 'Grieco! What are you doing?'
The young man looked blankly at his superior. 'We are having drinks, Uncle Carlo, are we not?'
'No, no, no! Not you! You must run to Master Pedrino at the bakery and tell him we will need twenty chickens roasted for tonight's feast.'
'Yes, uncle,' replied the youth, visibly disheartened. 'Twenty chickens – is that all?'
'For heaven's sake! Must I do everything myself? It is to be a feast, Grieco. Tell him we want three sheep as well.' He paused, considering the quantity of meat to be provided. 'Yes, and a pig-a big one, not a skinny runt like last time. Oh yes, and five dozen loaves. No, six dozen, tell him.'
'Yes, uncle.'
'Why are you waiting? Go! Hurry! There is everything to get ready.' The young man made to dash away. 'Wait!' cried his uncle. 'Go to Tomas at the inn and tell him we want wine for sixty guests. He is to bring it to the banqueting hall. And olives, too. Everything!' He fluttered his hands at the havering youth. 'Be off with you now! Hurry!'
The gangly Grieco flapped away down a side street, leaving Cait and Alethea and Carlo to proceed at a more leisurely pace to the magistrate's house where they were received with all cordiality by Carlo's sister, Manuela, who acted as housekeeper, cook, and companion to the busy official. The ladies were conducted directly to places on a low bench under the leafy boughs of a lime tree in the corner of a terracotta tiled courtyard. While Manuela saw to the refreshments, Carlo, drawing up a greenwood chair, settled himself in the pleasant company of his captivating guests.
'Now then,' he said expansively, 'about these tiresome concerns please, tell me everything that troubles you.' Cait smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but her host held up his hand, and said, 'Remember, it is the Magistrate of Palencia you are speaking to by authority of the Castilian Crown. Therefore, tell me everything, and we will see what can be done.'
He waved his hand imperiously, settled back in his chair, and closed his eyes. 'Please to begin.'
CHAPTER NINETEEN
'My dear archbishop,' said Commander de Bracineaux smoothly, 'I am very pleased to meet you at last.'
'And I am astonished to meet you at all,' answered Bertrano, eyeing the Templar narrowly. 'You are supposed to be dead.'
De Bracineaux laughed. 'Then I think you will find me a most corporeal ghost.' As if to demonstrate his material presence, he reached out and took the churchman by the arm and squeezed it. 'I assure you, my lord cleric, I have a good deal of life left in me yet.'
Archbishop Bertrano, seated in his throne-like chair outside his hut, regarded the hand on his arm; his flesh seemed to squirm under de Bracineaux's hand-as if he had been touched by something from beyond the grave. 'Indeed, sir,' replied the archbishop, pulling his arm away. 'But how am I to know you are who you claim to be?'
'Ah, yes, of course,' sighed de Bracineaux as if the question had plagued him down the years. 'What proof will you accept?'
'It is not up to me,' grumbled the archbishop.
'Perhaps you would not mind telling me how you came by word of my demise,' suggested the Templar
