Valley of Dry Bones by Priscilla Royal Read Free Book Online Page A

is simple enough. When I agreed to your first marriage arrangement, I was indebted to you for finding me a place at court when I needed refuge. That debt has been repaid, and now I have no reason to agree to another of your schemes. Should I choose to marry again, I shall do as I please. If God wishes our family to thrive and grants sons of my body, they will come from a wife of my choosing.”
    “Not from here!” With a look of horror, Fulke gestured at the ground as if he expected a barely human creature to spring from the dust. “Surely you jest? You must have met someone suitable in Norwich,” he added hopefully. “If so, let me speak with her family.”
    Ralf shook his head.
    “You cannot wed beneath your rank. Third son though you may be, you are still my brother. Since I am head of this family, you are obligated to obey me, and I will not allow you to wed without my approval!”
    “Think again, sweet brother. The little I inherited at our father’s death, I gave over to you when I left England. What I own in my name alone, I earned from the sharpness of my sword, if not my wits. As for obligation, I wed once at your behest and you did profit well enough methinks. If there is anything owed between us, you are the debtor, not I.”
    Fulke fell silent and stared warily at the crowner. “What do you think I owe you, brother?”
    “My silence,” Ralf replied, his lips twisting into a thin smile.

Chapter Eight
    “Sir Hugh saw our party off and sends his greetings, my lady.”
    With a gracious smile, Eleanor conveyed her appreciation of the baron’s message, although she was surprised to hear her eldest brother had returned to court so quickly. Their father had included nothing about this when he last sent news, saying only that Hugh had safely arrived in England not long after the king.
    The ruddy-faced Otes now turned his attention to the sub-prioress, honoring her with a flash of his widely spaced teeth. “And I had the pleasure of a brief word with your brother before I left the king’s side.”
    Sister Ruth blushed.
    Seeing her adversary turn bashful over a common civility amused Eleanor, although she acknowledged that this response was mildly sinful, unquestionably uncharitable, and ought to be dismissed with stern resolve. Her effort was not as swift as virtue required.
    Now that formal courtesies had been observed, the prioress hoped to learn what profit the baron expected to gain from this meeting. She assumed she would not have to wait long to discover it.
    “My lady, I am a man burdened with my sins.”
    An honest enough beginning, she noted in silence, for the baron had more than his share of faults. Inclining her head, she wisely kept her own counsel and politely suggested that all earthly creatures were flawed.
    “I fear my soul shall be found unworthy when God calls me to Him.”
    Most likely the Devil, Eleanor thought, and then quickly moderated her unkindness with a firm reminder that God always forgave the truly repentant. Men often found their hearts filled with remorse for wicked deeds when they felt their souls striving to escape over-ripened flesh. Although she had no quarrel with this, she chose to be like the good sailor, who wisely suspects that coastal fog hides treacherous rocks, and remained wary of the man’s expressed atonement.
    “I came on this journey with a twofold purpose.”
    And so the circling of his real prey grows tighter, the prioress concluded with a nod of encouragement.
    “When Queen Eleanor asked me to travel her proposed pilgrimage route, I agreed at once, knowing she values my opinion most highly.” His sigh conveyed the immense responsibility such a regal appeal entailed. “When I first learned she had included a stay at Tyndal, I was quite perplexed until I did realize that this remote priory could be a proper destination for a pilgrim, even one of her rank.”
    There is less honey than sour wine in those phrases, the prioress thought.
    “I began to hear