“but ’tis nothing worth sharing with gentlefolk.” Then more adamantly, Helena continued. “I love this life. Please do not send me away.”
“Send you away?” Arianne gasped. “I would rather lose my arm than lose your friendship. You are welcomed here for all time, Helena. Know that here and now.”
“Thank you, Milady.” Helena felt a world of weight eased off her shoulders. “My love of God is deep, and for all these many years, I have felt its return in only the love of my mother. Now, I see differently. I see His love in you.”
“ ’Tis but a reflection of that which shines in you, Helena. He has not forsaken you. Be at peace and know He cares.”
Chapter 7
T ancred DuBonnet leaned against the rail of the ship and stared at the filmy image of English shoreline. Home! It had come at last. After eleven years, he was going home.
“I wonder,” Devon began, coming up from behind him, “if you will find it changed.”
Tancred smiled weakly. “Perhaps yea, perhaps nay. The true point is that England will find me changed.”
“For the better or the worse?” Devon questioned seriously. He knew all about the rough treatment his sister had suffered at Tancred’s hand.
Tancred continued to stare across the waters. A light, salty mist assailed him, leaving droplets on his bearded face. “Would you have asked that but a short time ago, I might have answered strongly in the latter. I was a most bitter man.”
Devon pushed back his cloak and adjusted the sword at his side. The cold steel felt good against his hand, and were this man still considered his enemy, he’d find little difficulty in challenging him to fight to the death. Thoughts of Arianne being beaten by this bitter man caused Devon to turn narrowed eyes on his companion.
“And now?” Devon’s voice was low and formidable.
Tancred never broke his gaze. “Now, I am not so bitter. Perhaps now I am more thoughtful and filled with reasoning.”
“Reasoning? Reasoning for what, pray tell?”
Tancred raised an eyebrow as if casually considering the matter. His camlet garde-corp, woven of the finest camel hair in Cyprus, offered him cherished warmth. It also reminded him of the giver. Artimas.
“I met a man not long ago. A pilgrim philosopher on his journey to Paris. A man of more difference and provocative thought I have ne’er met.”
“A man of philosophy?” Devon asked in a tone of disbelief.
“And what heresy did he preach or did you contemplate angels and how many existed on pin-tops?”
Tancred laughed and turned to the younger man. “Nay, but my thoughts were much the same as yours, even though I had no concern of heresy. I had long ago presumed my soul unsaveable. That was, until I met your sister.”
Devon’s face tightened. “Yes, you were most uncharitable to her as I have learned.”
Tancred nodded thoughtfully. “ ’Tis true and nothing of pride for me. I acted out of spite and hate and have no other excuse to offer. I posted my sincerest regret to the woman and begged her forgiveness. Richard’s scribe penned me a fine letter in her name, releasing me from the debt.”
“ ’Tis like Arianne to put aside a difference so easily. Still, I have not her ease of reconciliation.”
Tancred said nothing for a moment. “Mayhaps I should seek your forgiveness as well,” he paused, meeting Devon’s eyes, “for the offense you still carry in her name.”
Devon was clearly convicted by Tancred’s words. He swallowed hard, released the sword that he’d toyed with throughout the conversation, and looked away. “Mayhaps, I should seek yours.”
“Then we are in agreement,” Tancred said and returned his gaze to follow Devon’s. England’s shoreline drew ever closer.
“Was it your philosopher who changed your heart?” Devon questioned in a voice barely audible.
“Nay,” Tancred replied. “ ’Twas God. Artimas only assisted in pointing out the finer details.”
“Such as?”
“So much was
“Send you away?” Arianne gasped. “I would rather lose my arm than lose your friendship. You are welcomed here for all time, Helena. Know that here and now.”
“Thank you, Milady.” Helena felt a world of weight eased off her shoulders. “My love of God is deep, and for all these many years, I have felt its return in only the love of my mother. Now, I see differently. I see His love in you.”
“ ’Tis but a reflection of that which shines in you, Helena. He has not forsaken you. Be at peace and know He cares.”
Chapter 7
T ancred DuBonnet leaned against the rail of the ship and stared at the filmy image of English shoreline. Home! It had come at last. After eleven years, he was going home.
“I wonder,” Devon began, coming up from behind him, “if you will find it changed.”
Tancred smiled weakly. “Perhaps yea, perhaps nay. The true point is that England will find me changed.”
“For the better or the worse?” Devon questioned seriously. He knew all about the rough treatment his sister had suffered at Tancred’s hand.
Tancred continued to stare across the waters. A light, salty mist assailed him, leaving droplets on his bearded face. “Would you have asked that but a short time ago, I might have answered strongly in the latter. I was a most bitter man.”
Devon pushed back his cloak and adjusted the sword at his side. The cold steel felt good against his hand, and were this man still considered his enemy, he’d find little difficulty in challenging him to fight to the death. Thoughts of Arianne being beaten by this bitter man caused Devon to turn narrowed eyes on his companion.
“And now?” Devon’s voice was low and formidable.
Tancred never broke his gaze. “Now, I am not so bitter. Perhaps now I am more thoughtful and filled with reasoning.”
“Reasoning? Reasoning for what, pray tell?”
Tancred raised an eyebrow as if casually considering the matter. His camlet garde-corp, woven of the finest camel hair in Cyprus, offered him cherished warmth. It also reminded him of the giver. Artimas.
“I met a man not long ago. A pilgrim philosopher on his journey to Paris. A man of more difference and provocative thought I have ne’er met.”
“A man of philosophy?” Devon asked in a tone of disbelief.
“And what heresy did he preach or did you contemplate angels and how many existed on pin-tops?”
Tancred laughed and turned to the younger man. “Nay, but my thoughts were much the same as yours, even though I had no concern of heresy. I had long ago presumed my soul unsaveable. That was, until I met your sister.”
Devon’s face tightened. “Yes, you were most uncharitable to her as I have learned.”
Tancred nodded thoughtfully. “ ’Tis true and nothing of pride for me. I acted out of spite and hate and have no other excuse to offer. I posted my sincerest regret to the woman and begged her forgiveness. Richard’s scribe penned me a fine letter in her name, releasing me from the debt.”
“ ’Tis like Arianne to put aside a difference so easily. Still, I have not her ease of reconciliation.”
Tancred said nothing for a moment. “Mayhaps I should seek your forgiveness as well,” he paused, meeting Devon’s eyes, “for the offense you still carry in her name.”
Devon was clearly convicted by Tancred’s words. He swallowed hard, released the sword that he’d toyed with throughout the conversation, and looked away. “Mayhaps, I should seek yours.”
“Then we are in agreement,” Tancred said and returned his gaze to follow Devon’s. England’s shoreline drew ever closer.
“Was it your philosopher who changed your heart?” Devon questioned in a voice barely audible.
“Nay,” Tancred replied. “ ’Twas God. Artimas only assisted in pointing out the finer details.”
“Such as?”
“So much was
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