Free Act of Faith by Kelly Gardiner Page A

and springtime and warm beds and my father asleep in his chair by the fire on a late afternoon.
    Then one day my master made an announcement that shoved the Hebrew Bible — and everything else — completely out of my mind.
    He waited until Willem had gone to bed.
    ‘Isabella, we are to have a guest.’
    ‘Here?’
    ‘Where else?’
    ‘But we have no spare bedchambers,’ I said. ‘Is it someone important? They can have my room.’
    He waved his hands. ‘There’s no need for sacrifice on your part. This is a very important guest, but I think we’ll need to make room for him in the attic.’
    ‘Up there?’ I said, incredulous. ‘With all those mice?’
    ‘He won’t need much space,’ said Master de Aquila. ‘But what he needs above all is privacy.’ He paused. ‘And a level of secrecy.’
    A secret and important guest?
    ‘Who is it?’ I whispered the question automatically.
    My master laughed. ‘There’s no need to take things quite so seriously. He’s a translator, that’s all.’
    ‘But —’
    ‘He will help me with the Hebrew Bible so that you can get on with other work.’
    ‘I see.’ I tried not to sound too miffed. After all, revising the Hebrew Bible was an exceedingly boring task. But the hours that we worked on it together, my master and I, were as tranquil as I ever felt in this new life of mine. ‘What’s the name of this translator?’
    ‘Don’t you worry about that.’
    ‘How long will he be with us?’
    ‘It’s hard to say.’
    I waited a few moments. ‘Is that all?’
    ‘I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you, Isabella. You will need to take him his meals before Willem wakes and after he has gone to bed.’
    ‘You don’t really expect us to hide him from Willem?’
    ‘We must.’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘I’ve told you not to mention the Hebrew Bible to anyone. It’s work that must be done in dark corners — not in the workshop in the light of day — or we may all suffer for it.’
    I blushed. Even my ears were hot. ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘So I ask you to tell no one about this new translator. Promise me this?’
    ‘Not even Fra Clement?’
    ‘Especially not the good monk.’
    ‘I thought you trusted him,’ I said. ‘He told me there were no secrets between you.’
    ‘Really? When did he say that?’
    My blush changed into a sudden chill that crept down my neck and along my backbone.
    ‘Ages ago.’
    ‘Hmm.’ Master de Aquila was looking at me far too closely for my liking. ‘Of course I trust him. He has been a good friend to us. But it’s better not to test any man’s loyalties too much.’
    ‘You’re very wise, Master.’
    ‘Or perhaps very foolish.’ He smiled and I relaxed a little. ‘Time will tell. But of your loyalty I have no doubt. I need you to help me.’
    ‘I will do whatever you ask.’ I hoped I wasn’t blushing any more.
    ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I was blessed the day you were brought to my house.’ He patted my hand. ‘Come, there’s much to be done. I need you to take a message to Simon — he, at least, must know that our guest is due.’
     
    I hurried through the streets and alleyways, over narrow stone bridges across canals in which clots of ice bobbed and buckled. A frost-filled wind stabbed at my face, bringing tears to my eyes.I wiped them away fast, in case they froze on my cheeks. Clutched in one mitten was a long letter to Simon from Master de Aquila, carefully sealed with string and wax. I poked it into my apron waistband so I could rub my hands together.
    Just as I thought I might actually die of cold, I found myself standing in front of the massive carved door at the front of Simon’s workshop. I knocked. No answer. There was no way I was standing outside waiting for him. I took the iron door handle in both hands, turned and pushed.
    From the hallway, I heard the sound of someone rustling through papers in the downstairs office. I tapped lightly on the door. ‘Hello?’
    ‘Isabella!’ It was Fra Clement, hunched