Read Online Roman by Heather Grothaus - Free Book Online Page A

up a crooked finger to stroke the falcon’s wing. “Good morn, Lou.” The bird swiveled its head to investigate who was touching him. “I am happy to see you again.”
    Lou considered her, and Isra smiled at the majestic-looking creature while addressing his owner. “This is a strange place for a religious house.”
    â€œWynn is a strange man,” Roman hedged.
    â€œHe is a wise man,” Isra argued, reaching up once more to stroke the bird. She hesitated when he shied away, but then turned his head as if granting her permission. “His knowledge of healing is great. Why would such a man be kept hidden away in the bowels of the abbey?”
    â€œOh, he isn’t kept hidden away,” Roman said, and then cooed and clucked to Lou as he replaced the small leather hood. Isra was disappointed; she loved to look at the bird. “This catacomb is paradise for our pale brother. Would you like to see? I have been caged long enough. Perhaps you feel the same.”
    Isra thought Roman would be shocked at how close his words were to the truth for her. But she felt she must ask, if only for the safety of him and his friends at Melk. “Is it not dangerous to risk me being seen?”
    His grin was boyish. “I assure you, no one comes down here of their own accord unless they must, and Wynn is already very aware of your presence. Ready?”
    Isra nodded, wondering what horrific things she would see. The sounds in the night were unnerving enough. But she followed Roman from the cell, trusting he would not lead her into danger.
    The gallery beyond was as empty as it had been the handful of times she’d spied it through the doorway of the little barred window. Because of its location beneath the massive abbey, there were no windows, making it nearly impossible to determine whether it was day or night save for the meager light that filtered down the wide stairs from above. But all the torches between the doors were lit and cast a soothing glow over the smooth stone floor and bubbling cistern.
    Isra followed Roman to the edge of the fountain.
    â€œCan you guess what is here?” he asked, looking down at her from his considerable height. He seemed a mountain inside this stone cavern, and yet Isra was comforted by his presence, rather than intimidated. “Surely the sounds have given you clues.”
    She looked around at the nearly identical doors. “A prison of some sort, I can only assume.” Her eyes found his again. “Or a hospital? A place to care for those who have gone insane? Brother Wynn would be a capable caretaker.”
    â€œClose,” Roman said. “But it’s not ill monks Wynn cares for. He fashions himself a modern Noah, Melk his own personal ark.”
    Isra’s eyebrows rose. “The prophet?”
    â€œYes. Wynn has made it his holy mission on earth to—” His explanation was interrupted by a door banging against the stones, and the sound of the albino monk shouting as he backed through the farthest doorway to the left of the steps, a long staff in one hand and a short whip in the other.
    Isra only now noticed that a pair of wrought-iron gates had been swung shut at the bottom of the stairs, sealing off the only exit from the dungeon.
    â€œWell,” Roman said, “I’ll let you see for yourself.”
    Isra turned her head to watch the monk back from the cell and into the empty floor of the far gallery. He held the staff and whip away from his body, moving them up and down.
    â€œHie! Come now. Come now,” Wynn called in a steady voice. “Hie!”
    Her eyes widened as half of the wide head appeared in the doorway, the orange and black and white stripes recognizable. She gasped as the tiger took two slow steps into the gallery and then yawned, the torchlight causing its long, pearly fangs to glow.
    â€œHie, now!” Wynn commanded, cracking the whip and causing the tiger to advance in the direction