A Dishonorable Knight(40)

"From what is she seeking refuge?"

"She was separated from King Richard's retinue in an attack several weeks ago and she merely wishes to remain in your safe keeping until an escort can be arranged to return her to England."

"That could be months!" the abbess declared.

"Yes, Reverend Mother, I realize that. You see, it would be best if it took several months as Lady Elena is well aware of our plans to aid Henry Tudor gain the throne. If Richard found out what she knew, he may assume she was a willing conspirator."

"You seek the overthrow of our sovereign, then?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Elena watched Gareth and though he didn't show it, she felt sure he was panicked. She had heard his father assure him that this abbey was sympathetic to Henry's cause, but she was gaining the distinct impression that this abbess was as loyal to Richard as an English nun. "We seek only a Welsh ruler for Wales, madam."

The abbess stared at him through narrowed eyes before asking, "Does she have any luggage?" When Gareth shook his head, she continued, "She'll have to wear a habit. We cannot have her wandering about in unnecessary finery. Bring her in."

Elena stared at the woman's retreating back in amazement. Turning to Gareth, she raised her eyebrows.

"At least you'll be safe here," he said defensively. "And you can return to England as soon as she is able to arrange a safe escort."

"Yes, in several months! I can't stay in an abbey for months! Especially not with old Mother Doom."

"Elena, hush! There is no where else I can take you that can ensure any hope of seeing you home safely. Will you please try to behave?"

"I am not a child, Sir Gareth. I need not be told how to act," Elena said as coldly and regally as she could. But despite her carefully constructed haughty demeanor, she was loathe to have Gareth and his friends leave. Turning, she reluctantly followed the abbess into the dim stone building.

***

Within the hour, the men were ready to depart.

"I'm sure we can find lodging in the town if you require," the dour abbess said.

"That won't be necessary, Reverend Mother," said Gareth. "We would like to get a few more miles down the road before nightfall. We must reach Aberystwyth within three days and we dare not tarry."

The abbess pressed her lips into a thin line. "Very well."

Gareth waited for her blessing. When none was coming, he glanced at his friends and then cleared his throat. "May we have your blessing, Reverend Mother?"

The abbess hesitated a brief moment. "Go with God."

Gareth nodded at her. Turning his horse in a tight circle, he spurred it into a gallop, Cynan's and Bryant's mounts close behind.

"She's an old dragon," Cyan remarked several miles down the road when Gareth finally slowed his horse.

"Though I may burn in hell for saying so, I agree with you," Gareth said wryly.

Bryant looked worriedly over his shoulder. "Are you sure we should have left Lady Elena there? They seem none too friendly."

"The Lady Elena can well handle even the sternest of nuns. She has the tongue of an adder and a backbone of steel."

When Bryant looked unconvinced, Cynan said, "Perhaps after Aberystwyth we could come back by here and check on her."

Bryant's frown eased. "Mayhap we should take her back to Eyri Keep as well. Surely she's as safe there as in an abbey."

Though Gareth refused to name the emotion that made his blood boil at Bryant's suggestion, jealousy made him say, "Need I remind you, Bryant, that Lady Elena is engaged to be married?" He was about to say more, but the crimson flush that crept up Bryant's face made him bite his tongue. Thank God that woman was out of his hair! he thought. Perhaps now he could concentrate on the importance of Henry Tudor's cause instead of forever wondering at Elena's relationship with his friends and family.

As he urged his horse back into a gallop, he missed Cynan's comforting pat on Bryant's shoulder that accompanied his knowing grin.





Chapter 11




"Captain, you must gather your men at once. The rebels are to gather at Aberystwyth in less than a week. You haven't a moment to spare," the abbess insisted.

Sitting on a hard stool by the fire, Elena started. Did the abbess not remember she was here? The abbess was speaking to a rough looking man who reminded Elena more of the mercenaries she and Gareth had encountered rather than a captain of the king. Trying to remain as still as possible, she concentrated on the rapid Welsh.