The Lion of Justice by Jean Plaidy Page B

Abbey; you will be following our royal tradition. I have decided that I shall train you for this.’
    â€˜My father said I was not to take the veil.’
    â€˜And what happened to him? He was killed by a lance that pierced his eye. His was a painful death. A just punishment, some might say.’
    â€˜He was good to us.’
    â€˜Your mother wished it. She was an Atheling as we are. She understood the traditions of royalty.’
    â€˜Mayhap Mary could be the next Abbess.’
    â€˜Mary is not my choice. You are that. You can absorb learning. You do well at your lessons. You will be educated as few women are. And this choice has to be made. The noble life of the Abbey or the foul one with that rake who could not keep his hands from you even in my presence.’
    â€˜Why must there be this choice?’
    â€˜Because you are an Atheling. The King may well offer you to the Duke of Bretagne. If he does, the only thing that can save you is the veil. I will leave you to think of it. Do not forget what I have told you. Imagine yourself in that man’s bed. Then think of the peaceful, dignified life you could have here.’
    â€˜I have not been happy here.’
    â€˜Nay, for it has been my painful duty to chastise you. If you took your vows, if you made the proper choice, you would find how kind I could be. Now I will leave you. You will have much to think of. I believe you now. You do not care for that man . . . but all men are alike. You have learned much this day. Think on it.’
    She was alone. Images would not disappear although she longed for them to do so. She could not help thinking of that man’s hands; the gleam in his eyes, the horrible words of the Abbess.
    Then she touched the rough serge of her habit. Fiercely she hated it. But not more fiercely than she hated Alan of Bretagne.
    What rejoicing filled Edith’s heart when Uncle Edgar arrived at Rumsey. He had always been the kind and gentle mentor, more easy to talk to than her own father. She was greatly relieved, for since the visit of Alan of Bretagne she had been haunted by nightmares; she had dreamed that she was poised between two fearful alternatives. She was on a path which led to beautiful pasture lands, but to reach those pastures she must pass through two gates – one guarded by a black-robed figure waiting to incarcerate her for life and the other by a beast with slavering lips who would submit her to all manner of humiliation and pain.
    She needed no soothsayer to interpret that dream.
    What will become of me? she wondered. Oh, where was her good Turgot? Where was her dear kind uncle? How often had she prayed that they would come to her, and now her prayers had been answered. Uncle Edgar had arrived at Rumsey.
    Aunt Christina was present at their first meeting so that it was impossible to throw herself into his arms and tell him how happy she was to see him.
    He had changed a little. There was something remote, almost saintly, about him.
    â€˜Your uncle brings good news,’ said Aunt Christina, smiling and looking almost benevolent. She was always pleased to see members of her own family, and of course Edgar was very important because he was the true King of England.
    â€˜Yes,’ answered Edgar, smiling from Edith to Mary. ‘We have had good fortune in Scotland. We have displaced the traitor Donald Bane and your brother is now King of Scotland.’
    â€˜What excellent news,’ said Aunt Christina. ‘I hope the traitor has been made to answer for his sins.’
    â€˜He stares blindly at his prison walls. His eyes were put out. He will never see the crown of Scotland again.’
    Edith shuddered. They had taken the kingdom from him, she thought, but they could have left him his eyes. Better to have killed him than to have blinded him. And yet an evil man had pierced her father’s eye. It seemed a cruel world. But she must rejoice with the rest because her brother Edgar had