Read Online There Will Be Wolves by Karleen Bradford - Free Book Online

never seen a burning, but she could imagine it. Whenever she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, she would suddenly awaken, screaming with the pain of the flames. Everything in her small cell became permeated with the smell of smoke, even with the taste of smoke, until finally she couldn’t eat at all.
    Then, one morning, the monk came accompanied by two others. Ursula braced herself for the usual ordeal, but this time it was not forthcoming. The monk seemed angry and all he would say was a curt order: “Follow us.”
    Ursula rose, but she was too weak to stand unaided. She would have fallen if one of the nuns had not held her. It was the young nun who usually came in the morning. When Ursula leaned on her for support, she saw pity in the girl’s eyes. In a flash, all of her pride returned. She tore herself away from the nun and, summoning strength that wasn’t really there, she stood alone. When the monk led the way out of the cell, she brushed away the nun’s hand and followed him. This time she didn’t ask where they were going. She knew.
    By the time they had traversed the long passageway of the cloisters and crossed the garden that lay beyond it, Ursula was staggering. She realized, with a sense of desperation, that she could not possibly walk all the way to the courtyard at Great St. Martin’s, to where the stake waswaiting for her—and the torch. But she would
not
be carried. She forced herself forward.
    “Ursula!”
    The cry startled her. She felt herself seized from behind, but before she could pull away she recognized her father. Then another, stronger arm lent support to them both. Unbelievably, it was Bruno.
    “What …? What is happening?” Ursula whispered. “Are you come to take me … to take me to …” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
    “We are taking you away. By the grace of God, you have been pardoned.” Master William’s voice was weak and there were tears running down his cheeks, but he grasped her even more tightly.
    “I don’t understand.” Ursula’s brain was whirling. She had been preparing, with every shred of will remaining to her, to die.
    “You have been pardoned,” Bruno repeated. “It’s true. Your father has arranged for your release.”
    “But how?”
    “Don’t talk now. You are too weak,” Bruno said. “Just come with us, and after you have rested we’ll explain.”
    For once in her life, Ursula was only too glad to obey.
      *  *  *  
    She had expected them to take her back to her own house, half forgetting that it had burned down. Instead, they were directing their footsteps toward the Bishop’s Church—the wealthiest sector of town, where the archbishop and the nobles lived in splendor. Ursula’s mind took note of this, but she couldn’t yet think clearly enough to question it. It was only when they turned in at the gate of the house of Count Emil himself that she finally balked.
    “What are you doing? Why are we here?” she asked, stopping and forcing them to stop with her. She stared at the massive stone building rising up in front of her—taller than any other house in all of Cologne. Like all the houses of the nobles, and even the Bishop’s Church itself, this house had been built with stones taken from the ruins of the Romans’ villas. It seemed to shimmer in the sunlight—white, with a dusky rose tinge to it. Ursula couldn’t make sense of it. Was it just an apparition? Was this just a dream?
    “Come, Daughter. It’s all right,” her father said.
    They led her through the gate, past the courtyard, and into the stables beyond. At the very end was a small hut. They took her into that. In the corner of it were two straw pallets, and Ursula sank onto one of them gratefully. A fire was burning against one wall. The smell of a rich broth steamed out from a pot hung on a hook over it. The odor was so thick and sostrong that for a moment Ursula’s stomach turned, unable to cope with it. Then, as she lay back and closed her eyes, a