True Highland Spirit (38 page)

Morrigan stopped and stared at the elderly nun. “Ye and a duke…?”

“I had the body for it many years ago. Do you doubt me?”

“N-no, I…” Was a nun defending her
bad
reputation? “Ye’re making my head hurt. Are ye saying what I did wasna a sin?”

“Oh yes, it was quite a sin. Sleeping with the duke was also a sin, and the cost was more than I could bear. I found myself with child and ailing. I cried out to God for mercy, promising to become a nun if I was spared. I lived, as you see, and became a nun.”

Morrigan’s stomach churned. “Are ye saying I must become a
nun
? Dammit, I knew there was no hope for me. I thought if I died in battle, I might be spared, but a nun? There’s no way.”

Mother Enid’s lips twitched, and she appeared to be fighting against laughter. Morrigan scowled. What was funny about her damnation?

“You could die in battle a thousand times, and you still would not be spared,” said the good nun.

“Well, that’s lovely. Thank ye.”

“Fortunately, it is not necessary. Christ took our sins and our punishment. All we must do is repent and believe, and we will be forgiven.”

Morrigan turned back to Mother Enid slowly, trying to make sense of her words. “So if all ye have to do is believe, why did ye become a nun?”

This time Mother Enid did laugh. “Oh, Morrigan, you are a delight. Here is your room. Go see Father Patrick tomorrow and say your confession. You’ll be alright. God loves you, my child.”

“Where can I find Father Patrick?”

Five minutes later Morrigan barged into the sleeping cell of Father Patrick. “Get up, old man. I need to say my confession.”

“Wh-what is this outrage?” The sleeping man sat up from his pallet, his eyes squinting against the light of Morrigan’s offending candle. “I will see ye tomorrow at the appointed time.”

“Nay, I have much to confess, probably take all night.”

“Go away, ye heathen!”

“That’s why I’m here!” Morrigan drew a knife. “Now get up and hear my confession, dammit!”

“Why are ye dragging me here?” asked Archie, walking into Dragonet’s sick room. “Why can we no’ talk in the main room?”

“Because this is the only place we can talk and be alone,” hissed Morrigan, checking the corridor and closing the door.

Her statement was only half true. She did wish to speak with her brother alone, but Dragonet’s room was hardly the only place to have privacy. Truth was she did not wish to leave Dragonet alone and unprotected.

“Why are ye concerned wi’ him?” Archie’s eyes slid to hers. “I spoke to Mother Enid. Ye do ken he’s a monk.”

“Aye, I ken it,” said Morrigan waving her hands as if swatting away a fly. “Tell me, Brother, how does the bishop o’ Troyes come to be in Scotland?”

“The bishop o’ Troyes? Ye mean the well-dressed French priest?”

“Aye.”

“So that’s who he is. We testified in Rome against Barrick. We are trying to get him defrocked, ye ken. Then we went back up through France. About halfway through, several priests from the Inquisition joined us, and this man, the fancy priest, he seemed to be giving the orders. I was told they were verra concerned about the actions of Barrick and were coming to see for themselves. But why would a French bishop care what happens here?”

“I know the answer to that. Remember the treasure ye told me the Templars hid in the cave?”

“Aye.”

“We found it, Dragonet and I. There was gold and—”

“Gold! Ye found gold! Where is it?”

“It was taken from us.”

“Taken? How? How could ye let gold be stolen from ye?” Archie’s voice was far from soft.

“Attend to what I am telling ye, and lower yer voice,” hissed Morrigan. “There was also this sheet that looked like a winding cloth. Dragonet thinks it may be the true shroud o’ Jesus, or at least the Templars thought it was.”

Archie gave a low whistle. “That would be something.”

“It would be priceless. Can ye imagine how much power ye would have wi’ that? Especially for the Church, they would build a cathedral for it, open it up to pilgrims.”

“Where is it? I want to see.”

“Barrick stole it from us too. That is what he has been after.”

“So the bishop o’ Troyes also wants the shroud?”

Morrigan nodded. “He sent Dragonet here to get it. He must have heard o’ some o’ yer testimony and decided to see for himself.”

“So what are ye going to do now? Tell the bishop the abbot has it?”

Morrigan shook her head, “I dinna want either o’ them to have it.”

“Get Chaumont,” said Dragonet in a weak voice, his eyes barely open.

“Ye’re awake! Are ye well?” asked Morrigan.

“Felt better. Chaumont.”

“Go get him. Quick, man!” Morrigan demanded Archie. “And Mother Enid too.” Archie nodded and left.

Morrigan sat back down by the side of Dragonet’s bed and took his hand. “How do ye feel?”

“Ow, my head.”

“Sorry for my share in it. I dinna ken what else to do. I was so surprised to see yer, that is, the bishop.”

Dragonet nodded and slowly moved to a seated position. “We need to get the shroud back.”

Morrigan nodded. “And when we do, what will ye do wi’ it?” She had no doubts Dragonet would get the shroud.

He shook his head. “I do not know yet.”

Morrigan squeezed his hand. She knew one thing for sure: once he recovered the shroud, he would leave.

Mother Enid entered the room and after a quick examination of Dragonet pronounced him much recovered and recommended a week of bed rest, which no one in the room believed would actually occur.

Chaumont came in, and after some exchanges of pleasantries, Dragonet asked him to close the door. Mother Enid excused herself and closed the door behind her.

“You all know about the existence of the Templar shroud. Barrick must not be allowed to keep it. I beg you, my friends, to help me recover the shroud,” said Dragonet in a soft but determined voice.

“Do you know where it is?” asked Chaumont.

“I do. We found it in a cave purchased by the Templars and recovered it. Unfortunately it was taken from us by Barrick.”

They discussed the problem of how to recover the shroud. They agreed it must be either with Barrick or hidden in his rooms in the abbey. But how would they get him out of the abbey in order for it to be searched? And how would they get past his guards?

A knock at the door brought the conversation to a halt. The Duke of Argitaine walked in. “I came to see if Sir Dragonet has awakened. I see you have much company, and I will not keep you, but allow me to extend my gratitude for your protection, and if there is ever anything I can do in return, I am at your service.”

“It is always my pleasure to serve you, Your Grace,” said Dragonet.

“You two look alike,” commented Morrigan, gesturing at Chaumont and Argitaine.

Chaumont stood next to the duke and people had to acknowledge the resemblance. “Perhaps there is a duke in my unknown parentage,” laughed Chaumont.

“Ye do no’ ken yer parents?” asked Morrigan.

“Afraid not. I was raised by the Hospitallers, so I suppose my father could be anyone. Even a duke.” Chaumont gave Morrigan a wink.

Morrigan wondered if the real duke would be offended, but he merely smiled. “My father was a great lover of all things beautiful. Beautiful art, beautiful wine, beautiful women.”

“But Chaumont is from France…” Morrigan dashed from the room. “Be right back!” she called behind her to the surprised men.

She burst into Mother Enid’s room. She appeared to be resting on her pallet or maybe saying prayers.

“Are you going to rouse me the way you did poor Father Patrick last night?” asked Mother Enid.

“Och, sorry about that. I was so excited to be forgiven I could no’ wait.”

“Next time—” began Mother Enid.

“Aye, next time I’ll wait. Ye woud’na believe how much penance he gave me! But that’s no’ why I came. Forgive me, but was yer duke the current Duke the Argitaine?”

“No.”

“Oh, I see. Never mind then.” Morrigan began to leave the room.

“It was this current duke’s father, also the Duke of Argitaine,” said Mother Enid with a slow smile.

“What happened to yer child?”

The smile on Mother Enid’s face faded, and the light in her eyes dimmed. “I became very ill after I gave birth. I was told the child died.”

“Where was the child born?”

“The hospital at St. John’s. Why all these questions, my child?”

“I dinna ken for sure…” Morrigan shrugged and ran out of her room down the hall to where Dragonet was staying.

“Chaumont! Where were ye born?”

“Morrigan? Have ye gone daft?” Archie asked.

“Nay! Well, mayhap…” Morrigan gestured with her hands as if pushing aside the question. “Will ye tell me?” she asked Chaumont.

“I was born at St. John’s run by the Hospitallers.”

“Truly? What year?”

“Aye, she’s daft,” commented Archie.

“The year was 1323. Is there a purpose to these questions?”

“Are you certain of the year?” asked Mother Enid, who stood in the doorway, her face flushed.

“Yes,” said Chaumont slowly.

“In the summer of 1323, I gave birth to a son that I conceived by the Duke of Argitaine, your father,” Mother Enid said gesturing to the current duke.

No one spoke or moved or breathed.

Chaumont and Mother Enid stared at each other, blue eyes to blue eyes.

“It was on a feast day I brought my son into the world,” said Mother Enid.

“St. John’s Eve.” Chaumont and Mother Enid spoke as one.

“Well I never,” said Archie, his eyes wide. “Ye mean Sir Chaumont is Mother Enid’s son?”

“Wheesht!” hushed Morrigan. Her idiot brother was ruining the moment.

“They told me the baby died,” whispered Mother Enid. “Barrick and the other Templars who took me from the hospital and brought me here.” Her lips began to tremble and a tear ran down her face. “That bastard told me you had died!”

“
Maman!
” Chaumont rushed to embrace Mother Enid.

“I would have never left you,” she murmured in French. “Never.”

“I was told my mother had died,” said Chaumont wiping away his own tears.

“The Templars must have sent them that message,” said Mother Enid and cursed in French. Several eyebrows raised in the room. “Forgive me, my children, but I was not always a nun.”

Chaumont rose and turned to Argitaine, who held out his hand.

“Greetings, Brother!” said Argitaine with a wide smile. “It is not every day I meet one of my father’s children. At least, not in Scotland.”

Everyone began talking and congratulating, and there were many hugs and tears shed all around. Mother Enid gave Morrigan a crushing embrace; she was strong for an old woman. Chaumont also embraced her, followed by the duke, who kissed both cheeks.

A warmth spread through Morrigan with the unusual feeling that she had finally done something right. Perhaps since she was confessed and forgiven, she could live a better life. She glanced over at Dragonet and found his eyes on her. She looked away. She might live a better life, but they could never have a happy ending.

“We still need to get the shroud back from Barrick,” said Archie.

“Wheesht!” hushed Morrigan again. Her brother could not speak but for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“What shroud?” asked Argitaine.

The room grew silent again.

“They are my family,” Chaumont declared. “I trust them.” He glanced over at Dragonet, who nodded.

“Mother Enid, you said you believed Barrick and the Templars used your pallet to hide certain treasures they snuck out of France and into Scotland. I believe we have found this treasure.” Dragonet continued to explain how they found the shroud and what happened to it.

Mother Enid was amazed and Argitaine skeptical, but everyone agreed Barrick should not be allowed to keep the shroud.

“Too long I have waited patiently for others to deal with Barrick, accepting and forgiving. It is time to act!” declared Mother Enid. “I do not know how I can help. Although… I do know Barrick has a secret entrance into his private solar.”

“That is a help,” said Morrigan with a slow grin. “I have a plan.”

The next day the conspirators put their plan into action. Mother Enid sent a note to Abbot Barrick, saying the Duke of Argitaine was interested in his abbey and might wish to make a donation for its help in the war effort. Dragonet went off to speak to the bishop of Troyes. Morrigan fretted, but he returned unharmed, at least as far as she could see.

The duke played his part admirably; he kept the abbot and his guard busy while Morrigan and Dragonet searched the abbot’s rooms, using the secret back entrance. They found nothing and were forced to retreat before being found. It was time to enact the next part of the plan.