Sword of a Saint Chapter 6

"I tell you this is madness!" Fergus's whisper sent a chill through
Valerian. "He should have been back hours past."

"He should never have gone in the first place. But Ya Muntquam will do as
he pleases." Yasmina drained her cup of wine and shook her head, setting
every piece of metal she wore jingling. "He has always had a wish for
danger, that one."

"He loves a challenge, but I have never seen him like this." Fergus
swallowed a huge chunk of bread and shook his head. "He's walked into a
lion's den, he has."

Valerian shook herself. What was she doing? Eavesdropping!

After all Mother Anne taught her about respecting the privacy of others, she
should know better. In the cloister she had lived so close by the other
sisters she learned to keep her ears under control. Words were few there,
and precious.

She turned her attention back to her meal of stew and bread. Despite the
restrictions of Lent, there was a mixture of rabbit and venison in her bowl.
Onions, turnips, apples and sage flavored the rich gravy that turned the
hard bread into a taste of paradise.

The Michaeline knights and Sir Gregory had politely refused the stew.
Brother Trystan sat with them, cleaning the remnants of gravy from his bowl
with the last of his bread. His smile fairly radiated guilty pleasure.

Valerian shared his feelings. While her heart ached for her lack of
restraint and respect of the season, hunger made a stronger command. No
doubt she would do penance for a month thanks to this indulgence.

Yasmina's voice penetrated her concentration again. "I think Ya Muntquam
has found a reason to open his heart." A jingle of silver and copper
indicted she moved sharply. "You know why he returned to Valoret, yes?"

"Yes, I do." Fergus sounded both angry and worried. "He's on a fool's
errand at best."

"Perhaps not. If we tell ----"

"No!"

What had Michael done? Valerian felt the chill of worry creep up her spine.
Beneath her wool hood, her hair stood on end.

She was, of course, concerned for his safety. After all, he had rescued
both herself and Brother Trystan from a horrible fate. Naturally she wished
him well as she would any other.

She was too honest to allow herself the luxury of that lie. No, she cared
more for Michael than was proper. The forest seemed larger with him gone,
and more threatening. The camp more exposed.

Valerian jumped as one of the Michaelines left their group and approached
her. Although the man wore both the white belt of a knight and the tonsure
that proclaimed him a priest of Holy Church, her heart began to race. Sweat
trickled down her spine as she fought to control an unreasoning fear.

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