God be praised. The shout came from Archbishop Becket, warning the monks where she’d failed.
“Leave now, Brothers. Make all haste.” The familiar voice of Brother Edward came too, along with the snap of metal on metal as bolts were shot home. “The Archbishop and I will deal with the intruders.”
Puzzled exclamations from the monks in the choir matched her confusion.
“You should come with us, Archbishop,” said one. “And if not, our place is with you.”
“Indeed.” The chorus came from several others.
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” Becket’s voice deepened in his emotion. “But you must leave. I order you. Hide yourselves as you know how to do. Make for the crypt, the lofts, the cellars.”
Still the muted clamor of hesitation continued.
“You haven’t much time. I’ve bolted the doors from the Archbishop’s study and the cloisters, but they won’t hold for long. Now leave, Brothers.” Brother Edward’s order allowed for no disagreement.
She heard the rapid clops of leather sandals along the wooden choir stalls, then fading across the stone floor as the monks made their way out through the northeast transept. The door boomed closed, the sound vibrating through the cathedral. As the golden light visible through her barred window faded, the sweet smell of the extinguished beeswax candles wafted in.
Becket’s head and shoulders appeared as a dark silhouette at the window. “Sister Theodosia?” His usual measured tone had an urgent edge.
She ducked her head to her knees and folded her veil across her cheeks, the better to hide her face. “Here, my lord. But pray step away — I have to draw the curtain. I am sorry I left it open, but I — ”
“It is of no consequence.”
She kept her face averted and carried on. “My lord, I saw one of our brothers murdered only minutes ago, God have mercy on him. Is it a raid?”
“It is a time of great danger,” he said, “and you must conceal yourself.”
“I am concealed.”
“Not well enough, I’m afraid. You must come out. At once.” The rattle of Becket’s fitting a key in the lock came from her door.
She looked up in shocked disbelief as Becket pulled the door open. But his appearance appalled her as much as his breaking of her vows. High spots of color shadowed his cheekbones, and a smear of what looked like black ash marked his temple and the front of his robes. He gestured to her with a hand covered in yet more ash.
“Have they set the cathedral on fire?” she asked, her veil still tight to her face.
“No. But they will be in here soon. You have to come out.”
Behind him lay the vast shadows of the cathedral’s long, straight nave. The start of the world, an endless, impossible world where she would be open to sin, to death. To step out there would be a step to hell for her soul. She shook her head wordlessly.
Two of Becket’s long strides brought him to her side. “Fear not. Now come.”
Theodosia climbed to her feet, her gaze fixed on the lines of gray stone pillars and high shadowed arches beyond. Demons lurked there, she was sure of it, waiting to swoop for her spirit. “But I am not allowed to leave. My lord, you order me to commit a great offence.”
“That offence will be on my soul. I order you to leave.”
He carried the scent of fresh smoke, a reminder that Lucifer did too. Her legs would not comply.
Becket raised pleading hands. “Obedience, Sister. One of your vows. I beg you.”
His humility spurred her to action, but she could manage only slow, unsure steps. Her heart beat so hard she could hear it. “I leave the place of my eternal rest, my lord.”
“I know. Forgive me.” He followed her out as she passed the threshold.
The immense space pressed in on her like the confines of her cell never had, robbing her of the air in her lungs. She let go her veil to clutch at her chest and took fast, shallow, useless breaths. Her terrified wheezes bounced back at her, a hundred tiny echoes from the darkness, as if the demons had found a voice to mock her fear.
“Steady your resolve,” said Becket.
She met his gaze with her own and felt the blood rise in her face. She should not expose herself so.
But Becket seemed not to notice. “There is a better place for you to hide from the knights. Go with Brother Edward.”
The monk waited by a pillar, his face a mask of fear that surely mirrored her own.
“But what about your safety, my lord Becket?” she said, breathless still. “You cannot face those men. Hide with Brother Edward and me. My cell could easily fit all three of us.”
Becket gave her a tired, gentle smile. “I dearly wish I could, but I have my duty to perform.” The faint shouts of the strangers came from the cloisters beyond. He raised his hand in a swift blessing. “Lead the way, Brother Edward.”