Page 29 of Wolfehound
OF ROYAL BLOOD
CHAPTER SIX
Year of Our Lord 1302
London, England
“And that isthe story, Your Grace. That is everything the Lord of the Trilaterals told me about William de Wolfe and Llywelyn’s daughter.”
In the damp, dank cloister of Westminster Abbey that smelled heavily of incense and mold, St. Zosimus was speaking to a white-haired man in a dark robe and scarlet cloak. He had just relayed the tale that Colm de Lara had told him, the one involving a de Wolfe betrayal and a princess under an assumed identity. De Lara had died shortly after his confession, and even though it was forbidden for a priest to speak of anything confided in him during confession, St. Zosimus knew this was different.
Verydifferent.
Therefore, he’d ridden like a madman for London, seeking an audience with the Archbishop of Canterbury. Unfortunately, that was not a quick process. It had taken him weeks to obtain permission because there was a chain of command within thechurch that was rigidly adhered to. Technically, St. Zosimus should have gone to his superior, the Bishop of York, to request the audience, but he’d bypassed the man completely.
He didn’t want to trust this information to anyone else but the man at the top.
That man was Robert Winchelsey. At first, he’d been quite annoyed with St. Zosimus and his persistence, but once he heard the man’s story, he could understand why. Robert had been the archbishop for several years, a leader of the church who was usually at odds with the king, so when he heard the tale, he was delighted that de Wolfe and de Royans had managed to pull off such a scheme against Edward. Decades of fighting in Wales had come to one dark moment that would have seen royal Welsh bloodlines tucked away in a priory, but according to Colm de Lara, that hadn’t happened.
Quite the opposite.
The news was revolutionary, but it was also quite valuable. Given Robert’s history with Edward, and the years of contention between them, he immediately thought of how he could leverage the information.
All was fair in the deadly chess game that was England’s politics.
Whatever he decided to do, he had to think fast because St. Zosimus wasn’t going to keep the information to himself for long. Any man who would bypass protocols to go straight to the top was a man who would go to someone else with the same information if Canterbury didn’t give him what he wanted.
And that was the gist of this little audience, he suspected.
St. Zosimus wanted something.
“Shocking,” Canterbury finally said about the situation as it had been explained to him. “And de Lara swore to this?”
St. Zosimus nodded. “He did, Your Grace,” he said. “There was no reason for him to lie. In fact, he seemed quite eager to tell me.”
“Why, I wonder?”
“Guilt.”
Canterbury looked at him curiously. “Why should he feel guilty?”
St. Zosimus shrugged. “For deceiving the king, I suppose,” he said. “I did not ask. All I know is that he was most eager to tell me. Of course, I could not keep this information to myself. I will not be responsible for it.”
Canterbury cocked an eyebrow. “So you would makemeresponsible?”
St. Zosimus smiled thinly. “With a great post comes great responsibility.”
Canterbury was a man with a finely honed ability to read others, a talent that had gotten him far in life. The more he listened to St. Zosimus, the more he knew the man wanted whatever advancement this information could get him. All of this—the audience, the way he had delivered his information, and the generally helpful manner about him—was carefully orchestrated.
It was also sickening.
“Indeed, it does,” Canterbury replied slowly. “You’ve not told anyone else?”
St. Zosimus shook his head. “Nay, Your Grace,” he said. “Only you. My loyalties are to my profession, my fellow priests. I would not share this with anyone else.”
“And you will not from this moment forward,” Canterbury said, his gaze growing hard. “I am the only person you will tell. If you tell anyone else, it will be a violation of your covenant with God. Is that clear?”
St. Zosimus nodded. “I am obedient, Your Grace,” he said. “Very obedient. But I had hoped…”
