They were in wine country. Vineyards and pastures lined the road. A hawk flew overhead. Lydia missed the sight of pelicams and gulls. In the pasture, early lambs bleated to their mothers. Ahead the watchtowers of Troyes rose. Around the town was a thick sand colored wall. James drove the cart to the line waiting to go through Porte d’Auxerre.

Brother Matthew said, "That wall is eight feet thick. Surely it can keep out any enemy. While we are here we will visit St. Pierre’s Cathedral. It has the basin Christ used to wash his disciples feet and the skull of St. Philip. It does seem that saints had trouble keeping their heads." The line moved forward. Brother Matthew asked, “James, did Dame Paston send a letter to Sister Dorcas?”

"Aye. Our first stop will be the Abbey of Notre Dame-Aux-Nonnians."

“Do you think the she will make trouble?”

When he replied James sounded worried. “I hope not. Still, it seems a gamble, one I would not take, if I had not been ordered to.”

"I think the same James. The Dame and her deceased husband's sister do not get on."

In back Antone said nothing. He was being unusually quiet.

They crossed over the dry moat and through the thick walls. Moses Aaron carried them up the Grande Rue, over Bishop's Gate and finally to the convent. Memories of Romsey Abbey filled Lydia's mind. She missed Sister Timothy and Cobb, but she did not miss the confines of the Abby. Aunt Rachel had not believed a holy calling was necessary to be content with a monastic life, but Sister Timothy's joy in her devotion had taught Lydia that for some it was essential. Now that Lydia's true calling had been confirmed by Brother Matthew and God, hope in her own future continued to cautiously grow in her heart.

Moses Aaron halted at the abbey gate. James climbed down and handed the reigns to Brother Matthew. "Pray that this will not take too long." He went to the door and knocked. The door opened. Two nuns peered out. He told them, “I have a letter for Sister Dorcas from Dame Paston.” They admitted him.

Under his breath Brother Matthew began to pray. Within moments the door opened and a young nun with a ruddy complexion said, "Sister Dorcas would like to meet the one called Luke." This was unexpected.

Brother Matthew whispered, "I knew there would be trouble." Moses Aaron snorted his agreement.

A bad feeling filled the pit of Lydia's stomach. Her legs trembled when she climbed down off the cart. She passed through the gate and into the abbey. Inside the abbey walls peculiar sensation traveled through her body and spirit. Without another word the nun motioned for Lydia to follow her. This sister swiftly passed from the dark to the light that spilled through open doorways. Near the end of the hall Lydia felt the presence of evil. The feeling grew stronger with each step she took. The atmosphere in this convent was not anything like the atmosphere of Romsey Abbey. Something was off, way off. Without a word, The patter of the nun's sandals slapped in a strange rhythm on the floor. They sounded like the flapping of huge wings. Dark wings. Lydia felt dark wings. The air was oppressive. The nun turned at the end of the hall and stopped. They stood before at a heavy wooden door. On the door was an intricate carving of a flaming cross. It was tinged with stains that looked like dried blood. The nun knocked on the door. A perturbed voice said, "Enter."

The nun swung the door open, but she did not go inside. Once again she extended her hand and motioned for Lydia to move. A peculiar aroma wafted out of the room. Was it brimstone or a tallow candle gone foul? Afraid, Lydia hesitated. She stuck only her head inside. There were no windows. By the wall, James glanced at her. In that instant he communicated to her to be wary. She slipped inside.

In the center of the austere room, an older nun sat at a table. A large rancid candle sputtered unsteady light around her. In her thin speckled hands was a letter, the letter Dame Paston had written to this her sister-in-law. The eyes in the finely boned face were hard and angry. When she spoke her voice was harsh. "Close the door.” Lydia did as she was told. Her eyes narrowed and she said, “So, you are Luke."

Lydia was not Luke, she had never been Luke. Aunt Rachel had told her once, "A rare lie that saves your skin is a necessary evil." If Aunt Rachel were here she knew, she would tell her to lie. Softly Lydia said, "I am."

A pleased expression came over the nun's countenance, but then was quickly extinguished. She said, "You are very pretty boy. You do indeed look like the boy, Dame Paston described in her dream. She has had many dreams over the years. She tends mixes her Faith with imagination, she always has." Her hard eyes swiveled to James. "But, you James, have always shown some sense. I am surprised at you for agreeing to go on this fool's journey.” James remained immobile, his eyes fixed upon the nun's face. Sister Dorcas continued, "The letter mentions three on this pilgrimage and yet I was told there is a fourth in your party. Who is it?"

James said, "My nephew, Antone."

Infuriated by his response, Sister Dorcas hissed, "How is it that my brother's bastard has become attached to this pilgrimage?"

Lydia could not believe her ears. She was not sure what shocked her more, Sister Dorcas's language or the identity of Antone's father. This was a fine mess!

"We met him along the road, " said James.

"So, you are feeding and sheltering him, with the Dame's money?"

"I do so at my own expense."

Sister Dorcas cocker her head like a raven. In a voice laced with sarcasm, she said,"Really. Well, that is noble, but there is something else driving you James. What is it?"

The tension in James was palpable. Hie eye twitched, ever so slightly as he worked to keep his anger in check. He said, "I am bound to do the will of Dame Paston."

A dark light filled the nun's eyes. She dropped her voice low and asked, "Even when her will goes against the will of God?"

"I do not believe it does."

Sister Dorcas leveled her gaze at Lydia and asked, “Do you believe you were sent from God?”

Before her experience on the labyrinth in Amiens, Lydia had not truly believed. Now, she did. This nun was trying to trap her into committing another verbal sin. So much depended on her answer. Lydia drew back her shoulders and said as firmly as she could, "I believe as Dame Paston believes."

Sister Dorcas eyes sliced through her. They seemed to penetrate the core of her being seeking out her weakness. Would she find it? Would she guess, or did she know already? A sly smile crept across Sister Dorcas' wrinkled lips. She smirked and said to Lydia, “Well that was a clever answer.” The dark eyes turned back to James. "Thanks to Pope Boniface VIII generosity my damned nephew, worm that he was, will receive eternal respite. If not for the Pope, the best Dame Paston could have purchased for George was about 12,000 years worth of indulgences, but after those years would still have to spend eternity in hell." The word hell seemed to echo in the room. To Lydia, a 12,000 year reprieve from hell was a bargain.

Sister Dorcas rose from her seat and crossed the room to where Lydia stood. She stopped mere inches from her. She was so close, Lydia could see this woman's resemblance to Antone. She had his coloring and the same straight teeth. Once, she had been a very beautiful woman. A quick hand reached out and grasped Lydia's jaw. Roughly she turned her face from side to side. "A boy?" Again, there was a hiss in Sister Dorcas' words when she asked, "Will you sin or will you speak truth?" The grip of this nun's long fingers hurt. "Speak Girl, now if you value your soul." Hatred dripped from her voice. Hatred flashed in her eyes. Never had Lydia felt the nearness of Satan, but she felt him now in this room, but his was not the only power in this room or this world.

Deep inside Lydia felt the rising of an inner strength she did not know she possessed. She looked directly into the loveless eyes that were fastened on hers and said, "I am the one Dame Paston saw in her dream. I have received a word from God."

"Liar!" Sister Dorcas released Lydia's jaw and turned to James. She asked, "Why have you taken up with this girl? What is she running from? You know it will catch her in the end. You were not able to save your sister, you will not be able to save her. It is best you return home and leave her here."

Though flushed with anger, James still managed to keep his voice even, "I have delivered the letter I was duty bound to deliver. Now, I have other matters to see to. Excuse us."

Sister Dorcas' eyes flashed. She said, "What you are doing James is illegal and you know it. Because I care for your lasting soul and the girl's, I will not permit it." With a sneer she added, "Leave her with me or else I will tell the authorities she has been sharing quarters with three men.”

This was too much. Lydia exclaimed, “I have not played the whore!”

A very wicked smile creased Sister Dorcas's wrinkled face.

Stupid, stupid, Lydia thought. She should have kept her mouth shut!

In a voice filled with triumph, Sister Dorcas asked, "James why would God forgive Lord George Paston if his proxy is a wanton liar among liars?"

In a low, controlled voice James said, "I do not understand the ways of God or the church that claims to worship Him. I was commissioned by Dame Paston and I will finish my commission. She had a dream in which this child appeared. I believe in her belief." He glanced at Lydia and added, "And I am not alone in this." From his cloak, he pulled another letter. "For you from Madame Coeur."

All at once the wicked light in Sister Dorcas's eyes went completely out. James placed the letter on the table. A slight tremor went through the nun’s hands as she took the letter. Her color faded. She did not open it. In a hoarse whisper she said, "Leave, and do not let me ever see your face here again."

"As you wish," said James. Swiftly he left the room. Lydia had to run to keep up with him. It seemed Madame Coeur had more than daggers in her arsenal of defense. What on earth had been in that letter? Outside James leapt onto the cart seat, and took the reigns from Brother Matthew. Lydia heaved herself up beside Brother Matthew. The cart lurched forward.

Suddenly aware they were headed out of the city, Brother Matthew protested, "But James, we have to go to St. Pierre’s Cathedral. It is on the list."

"We are leaving now."

"But James, Dame Paston said-"

Full of fury, James replied, "I know what the Dame said. I have indulged her whims too long. We have one goal now, and that is to reach Rome." This was the first time James had ever spoken critically of Dame Paston

Brother Matthew leaned close to Lydia and whispered in her ear, "Luke, what happened?"

Lydia shook her head. There was no way she would tell him. She glanced back at Antone. He was very still. Did he know he that was the son of a noble?