Personal Crusades

3

Milah wasn't sure what to make of Richard. Certainly he'd given her an excuse to escape the Saracen, but...

Mentally, she shrugged. Glancing out the window, she realized how late it was, and how much cleaning she had to do. Raising her voice, she called, "Alright, people! Time to clear out, all you drunkards." Slowly, the crowd began to thin. Milah noticed Richard still sitting there and said to him impatiently, "Get out! I've got cleaning and such to do."

Rachel had hurried home, in no desire to get into yet another situation where she was a "damsel in distress". She hated the very idea of it, and yet tonight she had managed to end up in one of those situations.

She thought nervously of what she had promised to do the following day as she prepared for bed. Did she dare risk it? The Saracen had been inquiring about her. She couldn't let him find out the truth, or he would kill her. Yet, it didn't seem likely that the Saracen would make the connection between her and Robert Briggs, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't try anything with the painter around.

And she had promised she would do it. Sighing, Rachel slipped into her nightgown and got into bed. The Andric family home always seemed quiet and lonesome to her. Ewan had made it a happy place, he and his constant stream of friends. With Ewan gone, none of his friends bothered to visit anymore.

Not that Rachel wanted them to. She would rather have Ewan over any of his friends any day. Yet perhaps the painter would prove more than a petty distraction. That's ridiculous! She scolded herself. No lady should ever fraternize with a mere painter. He was painting her portrait, that was all.

She would make sure to keep it that way.

Robert closed and locked his front door behind him. He wasn't sure why, except for a vague remembrance of the threatening man in a dark hood and scarf. After pondering that awhile, he locked all the window shutters too.
Robert sat down on his only chair and poked at the dying embers in the fireplace. When the flame was strong enough to see by, he examined the package in his lap. It was wrapped in brown burlap and twine, and the only markings was the name "Ewan," written with black paint. It should be delivered to Lady Andric immediately, but he had no idea where she lived. So it would just have to wait until she came here tomorrow . . . if she did, that is.

Robert leaned back and thought everything over. He saw Hortence leave with the monk, and was glad she'd found a friend. It was too bad that spark of interest in his youth had died, but maybe it was for the best. Even if she was the prettiest woman in the land, they were no match for each other. Now if she was the quiet, thoughtful sort, it might be different. Like Rachel Andric . . .
Concentrate, Robert! You don't have time for this. He scolded himself. And then he thought of her again for the next quarter-hour.

Donnchad and Gigi were startled by the loud call of the tall dark-haired serving wench. Alright, people! Time to clear out, all you drunkards.

"That time again, so soon." He lifted his head from hers. "I must away to find lodgings again."

"Ye might join me. There is always room in the rectum."

"Rectum? Sounds an asinine place to me."

"Tis what I call my father's house, he calls it the rectoria. He's the pastor of St. Olave's parish, mother is the housekeeper. Many of the priests live together, so there are many spare rooms."

"I have my eunuch out the door. Is there room also for him? Perchance in the stables."

"What's a eunuch?"

"I shall tell you later as we walk. The wench is coming this way and does na look happy."

Hassan backed away slowly, unsure of what had just happened. Lady Andric? Who was she exactly? She had been the first person that the bar maid had thought of, which had to be of import.

It was time to remove himself and to consult the signs. He needed to know more than just who she was, he needed to know whether the universe was pointing to her as someone who needed to be eliminated.

He had never killed a woman before. The idea of it bothered him, but only a bit.