“They’re from St. Euseb?’s church history,” exclaimed Ruoda, “and maybe just a story told to reassure the faithful. What do they have to do with this map?”
“Hush,” whispered Heriburg. “She’s thinking.”
“She lied to me,” said Rosvita, letting her words lead her thoughts. “Lavrentia isn’t dead. Or wasn’t dead last year. Lavrentia became Obligatia. Obligatia, when she was Lavrentia, had two children, one a girl born to Taillefer’s only legitimate son, and the other a boy. What was it she said?” She placed a palm over the central stone crown marked on the map, concealing it. “She came to an estate called Bodfeld. There she met the nephew of the ruling lady, and in time they married and she gave birth to a child. Whom they named Bernard!”
This triumph of memory gave her energy, despite the lingering heat. She left the map and walked to the embrasure, leaning out where the breeze could touch her face. The city lay hidden beyond except for occasional torches bobbing along a dark street and the beacon fires ringing the outer wall. Could it be? Yet Bernard was not an uncommon name. She had to dig, and dig, recalling the few meetings she’d had with Liath. The time she had followed her outside at the hunting lodge, wondering how a common Eagle was so learned that she could read Dariyan fluently. Where did she come from? Following that path of memory, she found it. Liath herself had spoken the damning words.
Rosvita turned to survey Ruoda and Heriburg, who were regarding her with wide eyes and startled expressions. Lamplight played over their youthful features. “’I have been told I had cousins at Bodfeld!’ How could I have forgotten? Bodfeld.”
“Have you cousins at Bodfeld, Sister?” asked Ruoda. “I thought you came from the North Mark. I didn’t know the Counts of the North Mark had kin in eastern Saony.”
“Nay, they don’t, child.”
“Shhh!” hissed Heriburg to Ruoda. “She’s still thinking.”
“After the death of her husband, the child was taken from her and given to a monastery to raise. And the girl called Lavrentia was sent south—found by Wolfhere and sent south!—and so came by accident, or by God’s design, to St. Ekatarina’s. Maybe the only place she could have remained safe.”
“Safe from what?” asked Ruoda. Heriburg kicked her in the shin.
“That is the one terrible secret that would destroy her position. That would force the council of presbyters to revoke the ring.”