Free Divine Sacrifice, The by Anthony Hays Page A

chance to take her measure more fully. She was a tall woman, nearly as tall as myself. Her long hair was a light brown, the kind you often saw on Gauls.
Her lips were full and her eyes a deep hazel. Though her gown was loose-fitting, I caught a hint of a fine figure beneath it. She was indeed a beauty, and I wondered if that accounted for
Coroticus’s protection of her. Under other circumstances, I would have volunteered to be her protector.
    I could tell from the slight smile at the corners of her mouth that she enjoyed my retort. “You are called Rhiannon. Whence came you?”
    “Braga.”
    I nodded. Braga was a large settlement in Gaul, the onetime home of Nimue, a serving girl whom Arthur won in battle and who now worked in the kitchen of his castle. She was a pleasant child and
had proven helpful in the past, and I made a note to ask her of this Rhiannon if the chance arose. I doubted, though, that I would be seeing the castle again until this affair was settled.
“Why came you here?”
    “The sisters had need of someone to guide them. I answered their call.”
    The answer lacked a key ingredient, I silently noted. If Gaul was her home,
why would she leave
? I sensed something missing in her voice, or something hidden.
    “You argued with the
monachus
Elafius last night. Why?”
    “If you are asking if I killed the old fool, the answer is no.”
    Behind me, I heard Arthur chuckle.
    “Woman, you would try the patience of any man! But I will have answers to my questions, or I shall still be here asking you questions through the next full moon.”
    The outburst seemed to take some of the steam from her bravado. “Ask your questions. I will answer.”
    “Of what did your argument concern?” I asked for the third time.
    “The divine sacrifice.”
    “What was at issue?”
    “Whether a woman could properly serve a function in that ritual. Elafius said no. Where I come from, it is custom. I saw no reason to change my beliefs because an old
monachus
objected.”
    “Coroticus did not object?” From the corner of my eye, I noted the abbot begin to speak, but Arthur’s hand on his arm silenced him.
    Rhiannon caught the move as well and she smiled slyly. “Coroticus chose not to interfere with the conduct of the women’s community. He has much to keep him busy here among the
monachi
. The practice is not unheard of here in Brittania, and he is wise enough to know that he cannot control all things.”
    This didn’t sound like the abbot that I knew so well. He prided himself on keeping his thumb pressed down on all under his purview. Such was the abbot whom I knew. I glanced in his
direction again and he avoided my eyes. Arthur, I saw, had noticed his avoidance as well. He frowned at me, his forehead crinkling, as if to say,
Let it lie until later.
The Rigotamos had
no desire to embarrass Coroticus in front of others.
    I turned back to Rhiannon. “Please account for your movements last eve, after the evening meal.”
    She smirked. “Such is an easy tale to tell. I retired to our community beyond the
vallum
. You may ask any of the women. I checked on them all before I took my rest.”
    I chuckled inwardly. Such women would lie to protect their mistress. I did not judge them harshly or prematurely. When challenged by an outsider, those in such a community were more apt to rally
around their leader than not. The
monachi
at Ynys-witrin would certainly lie for Coroticus rather than face his wrath. Hence I was not disposed to relieve Rhiannon of the cloak of guilt
laid upon her. Nor could I place too great a faith in Gildas’s accusation. It was based on youthful emotion and ambition, not logic.
    “Thank you for your time, my lady,” I said finally.
    “You have no more questions?” she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
    “We know where to find you. When I have delved further into this matter, I am sure there will be further questions. Be not disappointed, abbess. Our interest in you has not