Goddess of the Sea (Goddess Summoning #1)(83)



"So you must claim sanctuary here until the Holy Mother can be certain that Sarpedon is no longer a threat.

Then you can be united with your Dylan," Isabel said after CC had finally stopped talking. The old woman's hands were clasped firmly together in her lap as if to keep them from trembling, but her gaze was bright and steady.

"And I have to have the freedom to be able to get to the ocean," CC added.

"I think the other women and I can aid you with your freedom," Isabel said thoughtfully. She smiled mischievously at CC. "The men are much too busy and important to spend their time watching a lowly woman, even if she is a princess. It is a task better performed by women."

CC felt a rush of gratitude and relief. "Thank you, Isabel. I know how difficult this must be for you to believe. It means so much that you trust me."

Isabel squeezed the young woman's shoulder. "Do not think on it. Women must help one another." Then her face twisted with worry. "But I am concerned about your safety."

"Sarpedon can't hurt me as long as I'm on land, well, at least not directly."

Isabel shook her head. "It is not his evil spirit that I fear most. I have heard rumors. Some of the Brothers are saying that you are a sorceress, and that it is your connection with the devil that caused Sir Andras's apoplexy. Now that you can no longer trust the protection of the knight, I am afraid of what could happen if the abbot thinks he has enough evidence to take you to trial for witchcraft."

A chill moved down CC's spine, and she searched frantically through her memory. Did they burn supposed witches in a.d. 1014? Isabel's grim expression said that it was very likely that they did. CC swallowed hard.

"Evidence?" CC's whisper came out as a croak.

"Yesterday he sent several Brothers to scour the surrounding countryside to see if there have been any unexplained illnesses or deaths."

CC's eyes widened in horror. "I don't mean any offense to your time, Isabel, but aren't most illnesses or deaths hard to explain or linked with superstitious beliefs?"

"Yes, and it does not end there. The Brothers are also to look for evidence of cows or goats that have gone dry, babies that will not stop crying once the sun sets, and the appearance of more than three black cats."

"But any of those things would be easy to find—or easy to fabricate." CC felt the blood leave her face.

"Then we must fabricate evidence that says you must not be harmed," Isabel said firmly.

CC chewed her bottom lip. Think! she told herself. She was an intelligent, independent woman from the modern world. Surely she could figure out a way to stay safe. She just needed to think of it as a puzzle that had to be solved—then put the pieces together…

And a wonderfully simple plan came to her. She sat up straight and smiled at the confused-looking Isabel.

"Isabel, what do you know about the Wykings?"

Chapter 23

A hard fist knocked brusquely on the door.

"The abbot summons Princess Undine," the guard's voice rasped from the hall.

CC and Isabel looked at each other. Isabel nodded.

"Tell him I am coming," CC snapped. Then she whispered to Isabel. "Isn't it ironic? I'm supposed to be royalty, yet he's summoning me. Talk about princess envy."

"You are a princess." Isabel smoothed an invisible wrinkle from the front of CC's dress. "I do not think I have ever told you how lovely you are, and that loveliness comes from more than these jewels or your beautiful gown."

CC felt her eyes fill. "Thank you, Isabel." She hugged the old woman, breathing in her comforting scent, which was a mixture of stew and freshly baked bread. "Your friendship means so much to me."

"As yours does to me, child. You have breathed life into this dreary place, and into me again; do not ever forget that."

CC nodded at her. "Let's get this over with. It's show time."

Isabel looked confused.

"It means it's time for us to start performing." CC grinned, and almost told her to "break a leg," too, but she didn't think they had time for more explanations.

Isabel's face hardened with resolve. "Show time," she whispered in perfect agreement, and both women stepped into the hall.

"Follow me to the abbot," said the stone-faced squire. "He and Sir Andras will receive you in his antechamber."

CC had no idea what an antechamber was, but she gave the man a curt nod and followed him. Isabel limped behind them. The squire led them through a maze of halls that threaded through a part of the monastery on the opposite side from which CC's little room was located. Just when she was thinking how hopelessly lost she was, the squire stopped in front of a large wooden door. He knocked quickly twice.

"Enter!" The abbot's high-pitched voice carried easily through the door.

CC hesitated only a moment, and then she strode into the room. It was a large chamber, and CC was surprised by how comfortable it appeared at first glance. A fire was burning cheerfully in a hearth that was large enough that four or five men could have stood at full height inside of it. There were several metal candleholders scattered around the room, mostly between groupings of well-upholstered chairs and polished side tables. Something about the walls of the room caught her attention and CC's gaze slid to them, then her eyes widened in disgust. Carved into the rock walls around the circumference of the room were intricate scenes of suffering, much like the carvings that decorated the exterior walls of the chapel. CC forced her eyes from them.

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