The Raven and the Rose by Jo Beverley Read Free Book Online Page A

chalice became the blood of Christ.
    No, no, she didn’t want to be part of any miracles. They usually ended with a martyr’s death.
    There was one rose that held some blooms into summer and even into autumn. It had been sent to Rosewell by a crusader, and might come from the Holy Land itself. She remembered it as deep pink, but she hurried to the rose garden, hoping she was wrong. Hoping that it bloomed at this time of year, and that the petals were bloodred.
    When she arrived, she saw the Autumn Damask rose and sighed. It did still have some blooms, but their color was nothing close to that deep crimson. She went closer to be sure. The flowers were a beautiful color, the deepest pink of a sunset, but not bloodred.
    She straightened and turned, searching the garden for some new rose, some undiscovered wonder, but of course there was no such thing.
    So where had that rose petal come from?
    And just as puzzling, where had it gone?
    It had appeared in a chalice that was used in a Mass, which was a reenactment of the Last Supper. That led her mind to the cup that Joseph of Arimathea was said to have brought to Glastonbury—the holy chalice, which, according to Sister Wenna, was also in some way an ancient vessel called the garalarl.
    She shook her head, trying to deny it all as nonsense, but it was lodged there like a spike. Too many strange things were coming together.
    Then something huge whirred just over her head. Gledys ducked and cried out, stumbling backward. But when she looked, there by the Autumn Damask rosebush was a big black bird, head cocked.
    A raven.
    A
raven
!
    She’d never seen one before, for they were woodland birds of the north, but that was what it must be. It was much bigger than a crow, its body almost as big as a goose’s, though sleeker and glossier in its black plumage. One golden eye was fixed on her.
    Ravens were birds of ill omen, and this one looked it.
    Gledys took a careful step backward. “Sweet Lord, I do not wish to go where such a bird might lead.”
    Craak!
it said, making a sound like a scornful laugh.
    It rose with a mighty flap of wings, but it did not fly away. It went only to perch on the rose arbor.
    Craak! Craak!
    Gledys crossed herself.
    The bird changed its perch to a nearby upright pole.
    No, a lance. Plain wood, but pointed.
    A
lance
?
    Gledys blinked, and it was a rough pole again. Of course it was. That had been only a trick of the fading light and her overset emotions. The vespers bell must ring at any moment. Pray God it drive this evil bird away. She slid another step toward the exit, afraid to turn her back on the fearsome bird.
    It flew to another perch—a sword thrust into the ground.
    A
sword
?
    No, no, a spade!
    Then Gledys saw her knight in his long chain-mail armor, looking at her.
    No!
Only a dead tree trunk wound around by the stems of a rambling rose. She turned to flee, but saw a golden banner. No, a patch of marigolds. The lance again. A golden cup set with rich jewels whose glow rivaled the sunset, which spilled roses. Bloodred roses.
    She made herself stop turning and covered her eyes with her hands. When she slowly lowered them, no strange images danced at the corner of her eye, and the bird was gone. Just another strange dream, but by daylight?
    Then she saw another dark shape. It was Sister Wenna, watching her, ravenlike.
    â€œAre you ready to leave yet?” the old woman croaked.
    Gledys’s throat was too tight for speech, but she managed to shake her head, and blessedly, the vespers bell began to toll. She hurried to the chapel the long way, avoiding the old nun. Sister Wenna and all the rest were only a dream. It had to be so. Gledys wanted no part of ravens, blood, spears and swords.
    As she joined the procession, Sister Elizabeth slipped beside her, brows raised in question, and gave her clothing a pointed look. Gledys looked down and realized she still wore her apron. She untied it and carried the awkward bundle