Free Crossing To Paradise by Kevin Crossley-Holland

and a staff in your hand,” said Geoff, “and you’re on the highway to Canterbury, but you’ve never heard of Canterbury or Becket. It doesn’t add up.”
    â€œShe’s just a pretty face,” said John.
    Then the two young men told Gatty how Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, had been hacked down by four knights in his own cathedral on a dark day in December only thirty-two years before; and how, after touching his tomb, a dumb boy was able to speak for the first time in his life, and an old cripple threw away her crutches and skipped like a lamb.
    â€œSince then,” said Geoff, “there’s been a miracle each week.”
    â€œWhat you going to Canterbury for?” Gatty asked.
    Then John and Geoff told Gatty they were pilgrims, hired by rich people too old or too sick to travel themselves, or hired by the dead.
    â€œHow can the dead hire you?” Gatty asked.
    â€œIn their wills,” said John. “To pray for their souls at the Shrine of Saint Thomas or Our Lady of Walsingham. To pave their way to heaven with prayers. We’re doing double duty—praying for a salty old sea captain who died last week, and a poor old stick whose legs have given way. She must be eighty years if she’s a day.”
    â€œYou don’t know much, do you,” said Geoff.
    Gatty lowered her head and squeezed Syndod’s mane. “Nobody told me,” she said reproachfully.
    â€œHere! Have a look at this,” said John. He tugged at the thong around his neck, and pulled out of his tunic a little lead flask. He took it off, and passed it to Gatty, making sure he brushed her fingers with his own as he did so.
    Gatty shook it. “What’s in it, then?”
    â€œBlood,” said John. “Blood and water from the Well of Saint Thomas. Tell you what! You keep it.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œShe can, can’t she, Geoff?”
    â€œIt’s yours,” said Geoff. “One kiss each and it’s yours.”
    â€œNever!” exclaimed Gatty. Her face and neck began to burn.
    The two young men laughed.
    When Gatty raised her eyes again, she saw Nest trotting back towards her.
    â€œWho’s this?” asked Geoff, cheerfully.
    â€œOne girl each!” said John.
    Waving their arms, the two of them sang out together:
“ My sunlight, I desire you.
My moonlight, shall I sleep with you?
My starlight, I am in your bed already! ”
    Then Geoff and John threw back their heads and brayed like donkeys, and Gatty couldn’t help herself: She laughed as well.
    Nest pulled up in front of the three of them. “Lady Gwyneth says…” she began.
    â€œThis is Nest,” said Gatty. “Me and her are Lady Gwyneth’s chamber-servants.”
    â€œâ€¦she says you’re to come at once,” said Nest.
    â€œWhat a beauty!” said John. “Eh, Geoff?”
    â€œShe certainly is!” Geoff agreed.
    â€œCome on!” said Nest.
    Gatty grinned. Nest, she just kissed her fingertips twice, and then she dug in her heels and cantered back to Lady Gwyneth, with Gatty alongside her.
    â€œTwice in one afternoon!” Lady Gwyneth said very sharply. “I’m warning you, Gatty. I require you to be obedient, not to harum-scarum off whenever the fancy takes you. Do you understand?”
    â€œThey was telling me about Becket,” said Gatty, wide-eyed, and then she burst out laughing.
    Lady Gwyneth gave Gatty a long, cool look. “That poor man! Murdered. And you, shameless.”
    â€œI saw what you did,” Nest said in a low voice.
    â€œWe must pray for his protection.” Lady Gwyneth said. She looked over the shoulder and called out, “Austin, we must pray to Saint Thomas, mustn’t we?”
    â€œWhy is that, my lady?” Austin replied.
    â€œTo throw his cloak around us.”
    Austin rode up. “The saints who travel with us,” he said, “are Saint David, who was a