The Fifth Knight(12)

An age passed. The knight must surely be able to hear them breathing.

Finally, he stepped away and out over the rail. “Nothing, my lord Fitzurse.” He walked back up the aisle to the transept.

Complete silence fell as Palmer replaced the candle in the transept holder.

“We have nowt either.” De Tracy too returned to Fitzurse, along with de Morville, who shook his head.

Even from this distance, Theodosia saw the frustration burn in Fitzurse’s ice-blue eyes.

“You have no more business here, Fitzurse,” said Becket. “Now go, and take your shameful crew with you.”

Theodosia’s lungs filled with relief. They were saved.

“I have plenty business here.” Fitzurse turned his axe and struck Becket across the face with the handle.

The Archbishop stumbled back with a suppressed cry, hand to his injured cheek.

Edward recoiled in horror beside her as she stifled her own reaction.

Fitzurse nodded to le Bret and de Tracy. They stepped in and grabbed Becket by either arm. Dragging him to one of the transept pillars, they pulled him tight against it, with his hands flat and wrists pinned.

Fitzurse handed his axe to de Morville and drew his sword. “I know you of old, Becket, and I know you are lying. I can’t find the anchoress, I can’t find her mother. But you will tell me.”

Mama too? Theodosia went rigid.

Fitzurse brought his face close to Becket. “You will tell me because de Morville and I will remove your fingers, digit by digit. And if you persist in not telling me, I will carry on: your tongue, your eyes, your genitals.”

Theodosia’s sight shadowed, and she shook her head to keep from collapse. She could not hide while her beloved, blessed Thomas was hacked to pieces for her. She had to act. She went to push the panel open, but Edward’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Hold, Sister.”

Becket met Fitzurse’s gaze with no fear. “Do what you will. My body is of no consequence. God wants only my soul.”

Fitzurse laid the edge of his sword across the joint of Becket’s right thumb, the better to position his blow. “By the time I have finished with you, you will doubt if there is a God.” He raised his sword.

“Stop it! Leave him be!” Theodosia broke from Edward and flung open the carved door of their hiding place.

♦ ♦ ♦

Palmer raised his weapon at the sudden female cries. He looked around to see a slightly built young nun scramble over the altar rail of the Lady Chapel, the tall monk called Edward behind her. Where in devildom had they sprung from?

The monk called out too. “Stop, sirs, I beseech you.”

“Theodosia, no!” shouted Becket.

“Hold him, damn you.”

Palmer turned back at Fitzurse’s order to see Becket break de Tracy’s grip, but de Morville moved in whip-fast with Fitzurse.

Palmer swiveled as the girl reached the bottom of the steps.

“Don’t hurt him, for the love of God,” she said.

“Stop there.” He raised his sword and she halted, one foot on the steps, gray eyes wide on his blade as shouts and oaths came from the struggling group behind him.

“It’s her,” came Fitzurse’s call. “Take her, Palmer.”

“You will not.”

Palmer glanced to his left.

“But I will.” Brother Edward lunged for him from farther along the wide steps.

Palmer swung his sword and the monk jerked away, overbalancing onto one hip and hand. The nun sprinted up the steps and ducked past Palmer as he went to grab her. Forcurse her.

She flung herself at de Morville, who still tried to pin Becket down. She pulled at the knight’s bony forearm with both hands. “Let him go. You must, you must.”

“Off, whore.” De Morville kneed her in the stomach, but she kept her hold.

Palmer was on her in three strides. “Enough.” He flung his forearm across her throat and lifted his sword against her neck. She shrieked and let go of de Morville.

“Please, have mercy on us.” She choked her words out and raised both arms in a plea as he flexed his grip tight round her neck.

Becket stopped writhing in the knights’ hold and glared at Palmer. “Leave her be, you churl. I command you.”

“I’m afraid Palmer’s not yours to command,” said Fitzurse.

Palmer had to will himself not to respond to Becket. But he relaxed his grip enough to let the nun breathe as he pulled her well back from the group. He kept his sword raised.

Fitzurse stepped away from Becket, with a quick glance to make sure the others held him firm against the pillar once more. He observed Palmer’s captive with a thin smile. “I do believe we’ve found one.” He reached out and slapped Becket hard across the face, making him gasp in pain. “Where is the other one?”