Archangel (32 page)

Donnell fell asleep without having finished his meal.

***

Jonas St. John was a tall, thin man, older, with a full head of dark and curly hair.  He had been in the clergy for the majority of his life, having grown up as an acolyte at St. Bartholomew the Great Cathedral before working his way up to become a fully consecrated priest. He was a fairly simple man without the vices or addictions his fellow priests indulged in, hiding behind holy robes to mask their deviations.  Jonas was an exception to that rule, a truly pious man in a world where such things were increasingly rare.

He had been summoned this day to Bellham Place, home of the mighty de Lohr family, by one of de Lohr’s knights.  Without question, he went with the man and enjoyed a leisurely ride to the outskirts of London where the great manor houses lay along the Thames like the pearls of an enormous necklace.  The day was fine and the birds sang in the great oak trees overhead as Kevin, Jonas and a small escort made haste back to Bellham.

 Arriving at the great white-stoned manor, Jonas greeted David amiably and was kind to Emilie and Christina.  David and his wife took the man into the lavish reception room to go through the pleasantries of social graces, providing the priest with food and drink.  But when the wine was half-way finished and the food had run out, David politely excused his wife from the room.  In her place came an enormous knight with a shaved head and deadly look about him.  Gart moved off into the shadows as David closed the door behind Emilie and Christina.

Jonas eyed the massive knight in the corner as David returned to him and reclaimed his seat.  His dark eyes moved over the enormous hands, long thick legs and broad chest. David could see where the priest’s attention was and he indicated Gart.

“I would have you meet my most trusted knight, Sir Gart Forbes,” he said, nothing the apprehensive expression on the priest’s face. “He is as deadly as you think he is but I assure you, he is quite docile at the moment. I wanted him to be a part of this conversation, with your permission. It is important.”

Jonas agreed, casually, as if the man’s deadly countenance didn’t matter in the least.  He reclaimed his cup.

“It is your home, my lord,” he said. “You have the right to demand who stays and who goes.  Now, I assume you did not call me from St. Bartholomews simply for polite conversation.”

David shook his head. “I did not,” he confirmed. “We seek your counsel.”

“We?” the priest looked over at Gart, still standing just inside the door. “You and your knight?”

David nodded, waving Gart over. “Come and sit,” he told the knight, looking back to the priest in his woolen robes, dusty from travel. “Gart has some questions that I am hoping you can answer.”

Jonas focused expectantly on the big knight as the man assumed a seat across from him.  But the knight was perched uncomfortably, stiffly, and Jonas observed the uneasy display.  He was coming to feel somewhat sorry for the man, so ill at ease in the comfortable and lovely room.

“Well?” Jonas asked politely. “What is your question, my son?”

Gart cleared his throat, eyeing David as he did so. “I was wondering, Your Grace,” he cleared his throat again and coughed for good measure. “What…. What does the Church consider grounds for a divorce?”

Jonas looked rather thoughtful at the question. “The Church is very clear on its stance for divorce,” he settled back in his chair. “Only under the most extreme circumstances is it considered, for example, adultery or grievous sins such as heresy.  Do you want to divorce your wife, my son?”

Gart shook his head, looking at David for support.  Gart was never particularly good with spoken word, especially when he was uncertain on the subject matter.  Already he was rattled and struggling not to look like a fool.

“Nay,” he assured him. “It is more complex than that.”

The priest wasn’t following him. “Complex? What do you mean?”

Gart was quickly sliding in to embarrassed misery and David came to his aid. “The story is long and complicated,” he told the priest. “I will provide you with the details.  Gart is in love with a woman whose husband beats her mercilessly.  The lady is in love with Gart also and they wish to be together.  Gart would like to know if the lady, under extreme circumstances, can divorce her husband.”

Jonas tried not to appear shocked as his gaze moved between Gart and David.  After a moment, he simply shook his head. “I know of no circumstances that would allow for such an intervention unless the man was proven in the extreme.”

“What is extreme?” David pushed.

Jonas was uncomfortable discussing the subject but he obliged. “If the husband was somehow proven to be a follower of Satan or a heretic, the Church might consider a divorce because to remain with such a man would endanger the wife’s immortal soul.” He looked back at Gart. “But this is not the case. You want the lady to be free of her husband so that you can marry her.”

Gart felt like he was already condemned to hell by the way the man was looking at him.  Still, he was not ashamed of his love for Emberley. “Aye, Your Grace.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Months, Your Grace.”

“Have you had relations with the woman in the conjugal sense?”

“Aye, Your Grace.”

Jonas sighed faintly. “My son, you are committing adultery with this woman. Do you not understand that?”

Gart nodded. “I do,” he whispered. “But… her husband beats her regularly and is cruel to her and the children.  He is a vile excuse for a man and does not deserve her.  Why can she not divorce a man who treats her no better than an animal?”

Jonas could see the vulnerability in the man’s eyes. He didn’t even know him but he could see that there was longing and concern and compassion there. He began to feel some compassion of his own in spite of himself.

“A husband may do as he pleases with his wife,” he said quietly, somewhat gently. “As long as he does not kill her, the Church will not intervene.  Beatings alone are not grounds for a divorce.”

Gart looked at David with a look of such desolation that David felt the physical impact.  He turned to the priest.

“Her husband is the lover of Queen Isabella,” he said, his voice low. “The man openly commits adultery with the Queen, for Christ’s sake.  Is that not a violation of God’s sanctity of marriage?”

Jonas was beginning to understand more of the situation now.  He looked at Gart. “Is this true?”

Gart nodded, struggling against the creeping sense of despair. “It is.”

“The man is beyond reprehensible,” David put in, more strongly. “Let me tell you about this man and see if the Church approves of the manner in which he obeys God’s laws of marriage.  Not only has he been the lover of the Queen for quite some time, but recently, the Queen has started to show interest in another man so her lover, this husband, has sent for his wife and children to join him in London so he can make the Queen jealous and remain in her favor.  How is it not right for the woman to be granted a divorce from a man who clearly abuses the marriage laws?”

Jonas sighed deeply, obviously given much to think about.  Setting his pewter cup onto the table, he rose on his long legs and began to pace the scrubbed wood floor.  Gart and David watched him closely as he clasped his hands behind his back, thoughtfully, watching his feet as he moved around the room.  He paused by one of the great Norman lancet windows, his gaze moving to the green gardens beyond.

“The Church is very specific about its views on divorce,” he said. “I am not entirely sure there is a simple answer to this, at least one that would be acceptable.”

“Please,” Gart was on his feet, moving towards the priest. “You do not understand, Your Grace. Lady Emberley’s brother and I were best friends as children and I grew up knowing the lady and her family.  I had not seen her in years until we were reacquainted a couple of months ago, and I subsequently came to know a bright, wonderful and sweet lady who is the epitome of what every woman should be.  She has four children that she loves dearly, all offspring of her vile husband, yet there is so much love between the five of them that it is difficult to imagine.  I have spent the past two months with them and never have I known so much happiness or peace.  Please understand that I will beg, borrow, steal or kill in order to insure she no longer lives in fear and pain from her husband.  Even if she did not love me and even if we were never meant to be together, I would still fight to free her from her husband because she deserves far better in life than what she has been dealt.”

The priest was watching him from his perch by the window, moved by the man’s speech.  Slowly, he made his way towards the knight, coming to stand in front of him, inspecting him, dissecting the expression on Gart’s face with every ounce of wisdom and intuition he possessed.  He could feel the sincerity of the man and it touched him.  After a moment, he put his hand on Gart’s shoulder.

“Your name is Gart?” he said softly.

Gart nodded. “My name is Gabriel but everyone calls me Gart.”

Jonas smiled faintly. “
’And the angel answering said unto him, ‘I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God; and am sent to speak unto thee, and to shew thee these glad tidings’
.” His smile grew at Gart’s confused expression. “Do you not know your Bible, knight? Gabriel was the archangel that announced the birth of John the Baptist and Jesus Christ. He is the bearer of God’s secret messages to his chosen ones.  He is also the great protector of Mankind.”

Gart was torn between interest and embarrassment. “I only wish to protect Emberley and her children, Your Grace, not the entire world.”

Jonas chuckled softly. “Even if I knew nothing about you other than the fact that you are a knight, your impassioned plea has shown me that beyond the killing machine lies a man of flesh and blood and heart,” he said softly. “You have a compassionate and selfless soul, Sir Gart. That is something not often seen in fighting men.”

Gart wasn’t sure how to respond. “It is the truth,” he said. “I only want to see her happy and would do anything to accomplish this.”

Jonas nodded with some resignation, sensing that this simple conversation was the start of a situation that was anything but uncomplicated.  Hand still on Gart’s shoulder, he looked at David.

“There is another option,” he said, “although you may not wish to pursue it.  A man can divorce his wife on the grounds of adultery. It has been done.  I would assume that the husband knows nothing of the affair?”

Gart shook his head. “He does not, but he will at some point.  The lady is pregnant with my child.”

Jonas lifted his eyebrows. “Well,” he said with some irony. “That will help the husband’s case.  Perhaps if he were to be told of the affair, it would prompt him to begin proceedings.”

David shook his head firmly. “Nay,” he said flatly. “It would only give him an excuse to kill his wife.  I suspect he would murder her before he would divorce her.”

Jonas dropped his hand from Gart’s shoulder and sought his chair again, collecting his half-full cup of wine.  Gart retrieved the heavy pewter pitcher and filled it to the rim, and Jonas thanked him.

“You would not know this, but the Queen comes to St. Bartholomew every Friday for confession,” Jonas said. “She has her own priest but she does not trust him to fully absolve her for her sins, so she comes to my church every week to seek forgiveness for a multitude of transgressions.  Usually, Father Constantine hears her confession, as head of our order. I have, however, heard her confession twice and with the acts of debauchery she confessions, she cannot do enough penance in a thousand lifetimes to make up for it.  God has already turned his back on her.”

David held his cup out as Gart poured him more wine. “And she has never confessed the affair with Buckland?”

Jonas looked up from his wine. “So that is who she is having the affair with?” he snorted.  “She did mention something about unholy appetites with a man other than her husband but I had no idea it was Baron Buckland.”