Over the next two days Moses Aaron moved at an abominably slow pace. He stopped often and complained loudly. The pear tarts were gone and he wanted more. James shouted, "You old sod, get us to Amiens before night and I will buy you damned tarts!"

Begrudgingly, Moses Aaron picked up his pace but they did not make it to Amiens that night. At least the ground had dried and sleeping in the cart was no longer a necessity. Though it was good to stretch out on her bedroll Lydia found she missed the security and warmth of James and Brother Matthew.

The next morning when Lydia woke up, she felt a most unwelcome sensation. Merciful heaven, no, not this! She sent one hand between her thighs and touched the damp fabric. When she pulled her fingers up it was as she suspected. Blood. Her body was determined to betray her. A female body was always bent on betrayal, just ask any man! Lydia got up quietly. Brother Matthew was with Moses Aaron. James and Antone were still sleeping. She grabbed her pack and headed toward the stream. In a tangle of brush she changed her clothes and attached a rag Madame Coeur had given her. Thank God for Madame Coeur. She went to the stream to wash out her undergarment and britches. It would not do to be found with menstrual stains. With quick hands she dunked her clothes and scrubbed them. Her blood tinged the icy waters.

A stone skittered behind her. She spun around. Her wet hand went to her dagger. It was Antone. He saw her dagger and asked, "Where did you get that?"

"Madame Coeur gave it to me?"

Jealousy flickered in Antone's eyes. He asked, "What else did she give you?"

Not understanding his implication, Lydia said, "Soap and a vermin comb." She turned her back to him and wrung out her wet clothes.

"When did she give you those gifts?" There was a strange edge in Antone's voice.

All at once Lydia understood. She turned back to him and scolded, "You insult Madame Coeur. She treated me as a moder treats a son. Your mind is quite foul. Do not ever imply anything against Madame again. She has been a good friend to us."

James anxious voice cried out, "Luke!"

Bitterly Antone said, "Sounds like Uncle is worried his angel has been lost." He called out, "Your precious Luke is over here!"

A red-faced James broke through the brush. This was the angriest Lydia had ever seen him. Antone smirked and spun away from her. To his uncle he said, "I leave you to your wayward angel."

James did not even look at Antone. His eyes were fixed on Lydia. For the first time she was afraid of him. He came to where she stood. "What are you doing out here alone with Antone?" His gaze sharpened.

Aware of what he had concluded, Lydia said, "I did not invite him. He must have followed me."

"So, you broke your promise to me about going off alone?"

This was ridiculous. First she was in trouble for going off with Antone, and now she was in trouble for going off alone. There was no pleasing James.

He asked, "Why did you break your promise?"

By his expression, Lydia realized this was the crux of his anger. She had proved faithless. "I am so sorry James. I panicked." Her eyes left his face and she stared at the ground. She whispered, "I had an issue of blood." She felt her face color with embarrassment. "I had to wash these." She held up her wet clothes and met his eyes.

The anger in his eyes died. "This is a complication. Are you prepared for it?"

"Aye ."

He dropped his voice very low, "Miss Wade, I had a sister and a wife, I know about such things. For the next few days you will be in a precarious position and you will need my protection. Please, inform me before you do what is necessary." He paused and then added, "I must ask you once again to promise me you will not go off alone."

Had, he said he had a sister, a sister, just one. Had that sister been Antone’s moder? The one Brother Matthew said had run away? James said he had a wife. Past tense. What had happened to his wife? Lydia wondered why she had never considered James might have a wife, or even children for that matter? Did he have children? She knew so little about him.

"Did you hear me, Miss Wade?"

"Aye James, I did. I promise I will not go off alone."

"Good. Now come on, if Moses Aaron is agreeable we just might make it to Amiens this morning."

Moses Aaron was agreeable. Before they even reached Amiens they saw the towers of the Cathedral. Never had Lydia seen such a structure. The closer they came to it the larger it grew. James stopped Moses Aaron at the hitching post. All of them, including the mule tipped their heads back to take in the massive structure. This was the largest house of God Lydia had ever seen! The angles and the lines of it were intricate and beautiful. They stared in awe until Brother Matthew said, "If we hurry, we can make it to late Mass."

Quickly, they rushed inside. The Psalter was just beginning. "Levari oculos meos in montes unde venient auxilium."** Inside, the magnanimity of the cathedral was like an assault on the senses. Here in this place God was huge, austere, distant and grand. Lydia felt very small in her seat, smaller than she had ever felt before.

After Mass, Antone said, "Look at the ceiling."

Lydia tilted her head back. Amazement and fear took an even deeper hold on her. Antone told them the creation of the sense of space had something to do with the mathematics and flying buttresses that were employed to build the Cathedral. Lydia did not understand a word of his explanation. Still, his intelligence impressed her.

Brother Matthew said, "That is fascinating Antone. But what this place is most famous for is the skull of John the Baptist. I believe it is this way." They followed after him. A group of pilgrims had already gathered around the reliquary box that held John the Baptist's head. When the priest pulled the skull of out of its box, the sight of it shocked Lydia. She had never seen a human skull before. It was ugly and beautiful at the same time. The delicate bones in the nose cavities were parchment thin. The swoop of bone around the eye socket looked a little like the flying buttresses Antone had spoken of. Was this truly the severed head of John the Baptist, the relation of Christ her Lord? If so, this was the closest she would ever come to the human Jesus.

The priest put the skull back in its box and got out another. He said, "This contains dirt from Golgotha." It was not the same color as the dirt they had seen at Saint Anne's Chapel.

Brother Matthew whispered, “Golgotha must be a pit by now so much of its earth has been spread around Christendom.”

James shushed him. When the last box had been opened and displayed, Brother Matthew asked, "James, may I walk and pray the Labyrinth?"

"If you must."

"I must." They followed Brother Matthew to the nave. He stopped at the edge and pointed at the floor. “Is this not amazing?”

On the floor was a octagon that led inward. It was constructed of black and white tiles. It was as intricate as the rest of the place. What human mind had concocted such a house of God? Surely, only God alone guiding that mind had created this place. Lydia said, "It is amazing. Everything here is amazing."

Antone asked, "Uncle, may we go look at the texts?"

"Aye." James turned to Lydia, "Luke do you want to join us?"

Before she could answer, Brother Matthew asked, "Am I to pray alone for the journey of us all?"

Lydia hesitated. Though James wanted her to go with them, it was plain by Antone's expression that he did not. A second look at Brother Matthew convinced her she must do this thing with him. "Nay, I will pray with Brother Matthew."

James said, "All right, we will meet at the front doors. Brother Matthew do not be too long over your prayers."

Perturbed, Brother Matttew responded, "Of course, I will be speedy. I would not want to spend too much time praying to our Lord!"

A slow smile crept across James' face. He shook his head and went with Antone.

Brother Matthew grabbed hold of Lydia's arm and led her onto the labyrinth. "See how it spirals in."

"Aye." Her eyes traveled the design. The black tiles reflected light while the white tiles absorbed light. In the black tiles she could see her own reflection, in the white tiles she was indistinct.

"Follow me, we will pray and walk toward the center. If we are fortunate, we will dance with angels at its core."

Lydia was not sure she wanted to dance with angels.

Eagerly, Brother Matthew said, "Come let us begin." He let go of her arm and stepped onto the labyrinth. Softly, as he moved, he whispered his prayers. Lydia recognized them. While at Romsey Abby, Sister Timothy had taught these same prayers to her. Not so long ago she had been preparing for a life of dedication to God. Her future had been set in the sacred. But, now, now what did her future hold? What would become of her when this pilgrimage was over?

As she moved, strange lights flickered across the surface of the black tiles, like tiny stars. She glanced around looking for the source of the reflections. They must be from the stained glass windows. But, the reflections were not color hued. They were colorless and brilliant. Her eyes went back to the tiles. Perhaps the reflections were due to the mathematics of the place. When they reached the center of the labyrinth, the floor beneath her seemed to heave and move. This had nothing to do with math. Where the angels were pulling her into their dance?

Aloud Brother Matthew said, "Dixitique Deus: Fiat lux. Et facta est lux."

Light! God said, "Let there be light. And there was light." Light spilled over Lydia and Brother Matthew. Warmth surrounded them. The sound of great wings beat against the silence. Strange music filled Lydia's ears. Brother Matthew reached out and took her hands. His eyes held excitement and joy. He lead her in a spinnng reel. Around them was the gentle presence of other dancers. Never had she felt anything like this before. It was glorious and terrifying at the same time. All at once the spinning stopped. The music was silenced. Brother Matthew pulled her to him and asked, "Did you feel that?"

She whispered, “I did.”

He pulled away from her. His eyes held a question. He poked at her cloak and asked, "What is that?"

"My candle box."

He asked, “Are you a candle maker?”

“Aye." It felt good to admit at least a part of her truth.

Brother Matthew’s eyes grew brighter. He gripped her shoulders and said, "While we danced I had a rare word from God. He said, 'Your candles will light homes and holy places. Do not forsake your calling.' I did not know what He meant. Now I do. God wanted you to know He made you a candle maker!"

Tears came to Lydia's eyes. She whispered, "Truly?"

"Indeed." He smiled at her. "Come, we must tell James."

"Please, could these words be only between God and us?"

"That would be for the best, I suppose. I just wanted to brag a little, which is not what our Lord would do." They went to the front where James and Antone were waiting.

As soon as Antone saw her, he asked, "Luke have you been crying?"

Embarrassed Lydia wiped the tears from her eyes.

Brother Matthew said, "Sincere prayer does that sometimes. If you ever prayed you would know."

"I pray priest." Antone spun around and headed out the door.

Gently James said, "Brother Matthew, please stop implying my nephew is a pagan. He has his faith it is just not as public as yours."

"I am sorry James. You are right." They went outside. An old woman was selling mementos. The memento for Amiens Cathedral was a black and white ribbon. James bought four and handed them out. Proudly Brother Matthew affixed his to his robe. Lydia attached hers. It would forever remind her that she had danced with angels.

**I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me. Psalm 120:1