Free Strong as Death (Catherine LeVendeur) by Sharan Newman Page A

still felt as if he were being hunted by something. This whole journey had been Norbert’s plan, even though he himself had willingly become involved. Perhaps it would be better if they forgot the whole thing.
    Hugh had been thinking the same. He sighed. “We took an oath, Gaucher,” he said. “Once a thing’s been sworn to, you can’t go back on it.”
    Gaucher nodded. “I know. I wouldn’t break a vow if all the devils and wolves of Hell were following us.” He shivered. “It’s just that I have the feeling they are.”
     
    The only trouble with following the party of the abbot of Cluny was that it moved so slowly. The loaded horses couldn’t be forced to hurry. Nor could those who were walking the route barefoot. It would be better to set out ahead of Peter’s caravan, but then there was the danger of getting too far ahead and losing the protection of the guards and the extra people.
    Solomon, Hubert and Eliazar spent much of the morning debating the matter. Finally, they decided to stay in the rear with most of the other pilgrims, at least as far as Conques. Solomon was worried that they would be stopped on a mountain road at sundown, far from any village, hostel or even likely campsite.
    “It’s this route I hate,” he muttered, looking to be sure Catherine was out of hearing distance. “There’ll still be places blocked by snow or treacherous with ice. And not enough grass to feed the horses yet. The monks will have taken all the best of everything before we arrive anywhere. I say we get our own guards and go on ahead. A night in the mountain wind can kill as thoroughly as wolves or bandits can.”
    Hubert sighed. Solomon’s advice should be given more weight than his years would allow. The young man had spent the past ten of them traveling so that Hubert and Eliazar wouldn’t need to. It startled Hubert to remember that his nephew was only twenty-six. The lines on his face were from the elements, not age, and perhaps from what he had seen and had been forced to do in order to return alive from his sojourns in alien lands.
    “Perhaps farther along we can join a more swiftly moving group,” he told Solomon. “When the roads meet at Moissac, it should be easier. For now, you’ll simply have to resign yourself to being surrounded by penitents.”
    Solomon gave him a look that would melt chain mail. Then his face changed as he noticed something over Hubert’s shoulder. Hubert twisted his head to see what it was.
    “Oh, no,” he told Solomon. “Don’t even think it. I know you. You’re only fascinated by the cloak. Don’t be an idiot, boy. Underneath all that she’s probably toothless, aged and riddled with disease.”
    Solomon watched Mondete stride across the open field the lay brothers had camped in. She appeared neither old nor infirm. Nor did she seem meek and remorseful. If anything, there was a tremendous self-assurance in her walk. He did feel pulled to her, but Solomon didn’t think it was just the allure
of feminine mystery. It was true that he wondered what her face was like, how her body curved under the dark robe. But more than that, he wanted to know how she seemed so certain. What had she discovered that allowed her to move like that, as if there were a path unrolling wherever she stepped, leading her directly to the Truth?
    He wanted to talk with her, ask her, make her tell him how to find the Way she followed. It never occurred to him that it might be simple acceptance of faith in Christ. He had seen too many Christian pilgrims. They were humble before their Savior. No. Whoever this woman was or had been, she was taking a different pilgrimage. Solomon desperately needed to know where it led.
    Ignoring his uncle’s warning, he followed her.
     
    Mondete saw the young man from the corner of her eye. When he had offered his arm to her on the ferry, he had seemed innocent enough, but experience had taught her that the ones who appeared the most guileless could be the most cruel.