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Authors: N.P. Griffiths

BOOK: Isabella's Heiress
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Father Eamon had been through this so many times with Gabriel, he had lost count, but this time he knew that Gabriel had a point and he chose a different tack.

“I understand the Council's anger but this was not something that I could stop. Emma was determined that she should go through with this. I realise that the Council are angry but this was something that may confirm all its suspicions. I also realise that this will not mitigate its feelings towards my actions but would you not have expected this from someone that you think may be the chosen one of prophesy?”

“Your actions are a point of deep division within the Council, Father Eamon. There are those that agree with you on this but there are also those that are deeply upset with what you have allowed her to do. That is however beside the point; there is now a bigger problem. Emma has humiliated Grainger and he will not let this pass lightly. Word has gone out in the realm that anybody that gives his agents information on her whereabouts will be granted absolution and will be allowed to ascend.”

Father Eamon felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. How had he not seen this coming? He should have known that they would not have allowed a successful violation of Newgate to pass without some form of retribution.

“You see Eamon, everything has consequences. Even now, his horsemen and monks are torturing the people of the realm, trying to find out where she is.”

Father Eamon wanted to respond but there was nothing he could say. It pained him beyond words that the people in the realm were suffering because of Emma's actions but there was nothing he could do about that right now.

“How does the Council propose to deal with me?”

“That will depend on the outcome of this trial.” The words were from the woman who had interrupted Gabriel
on his previous visit. “You still have friends on the Council, Eamon, but your actions make it harder for them to defend you. You were sent with one mission, to disprove the claims made by the mystics but instead you not only put this woman at risk but you hide from us your true feelings about her potential.”

“If I hid my feelings from the Council, it was because I was not sure of the veracity of the claims made of her. It was not in any way meant to deceive.”

“That is as maybe but your actions have caused some to question your judgement.”

“It is the Councils privilege to remove me from the position of guide should they feel the need.”

Father Eamon felt the eyes of the Council members bore into him even harder at these words but he was not about to waste time groveling in here when there was so much for him to do outside. It was a calculated risk but he knew that the Council was not about to replace him with somebody else at this stage.

The woman's voice came back at him, “Do not think for one minute that has not been discussed but we are too far along with this and you have developed a bond with this girl.

“The one saving grace on your part is that she got out. If they had captured her, well I do not need to tell you the potential for catastrophe that would have ensued. There is too much at stake here.”

Father Eamon nodded. “I understand but her future has always been for her to make of as she will. That is the entire reason for the realm. I realise that the council are frustrated at the turn of events but I have to say again that this is what you risk by placing someone in a position such as this. We cannot allow people to decide for themselves only to take that right away from them when the risks of
them making a decision that counts against us become too great.”

“Thank you for the lecture on free will but I think we know what we can and cannot do, the question is what do we do now?”

Voices started to tumble from the ether.

“We take the girl out of the realm and in to our protection.”

“And risk starting a war that we are unprepared for? Out of the question.”

“This war is coming anyway, better it starts on our terms than theirs.”

“We will lose if we go to war now and humanity will suffer for it.”

The voices went to and fro until Father Eamon started to feel dizzy as the air became choked with argument and counter-argument. This was not going to solve the problem of Emma but he knew that his voice would not be enough to stop the argument going on around him. Then, just as he thought that he would collapse from the voices filling his head, one voice cut through all the others. It was the old, wise voice from Eamon's previous visit.

“Enough! We will not accomplish anything like this. Father Eamon, you will return to the realm and you will do everything in your power to ensure her safety. Let it be known that we will look kindly on anyone who goes out of their way to protect this girl. Her time is shorter than anybody knows and we must ensure that they do not get to her before her task is complete. I understand that it is now down to whether her sister takes the letter to her father. Is this correct?”

“Yes it is. She had read it but her mind was too confused for Emma to persuade her to take the letter straight there.”

“Well you must watch over this girl and ensure that it gets there. If you must, persuade her yourself.”

“Forgive me but I have to ask…”

“I know what you are going to ask and yes, it is in direct violation of the treaty but they have violated once too often and on this occasion we cannot allow them to succeed.”

Father Eamon allowed himself a small smile; finally they were willing to get a little dirty in this matter.

“Do not feel too smug over this. If she fails her task, there will be questions that will be asked and you will have to provide the answers.”

The doors opened at the chamber entrance and Father Eamon turned towards them feeling the energy slowly drain from him as he went to leave. These visits were always tiring but this one had nearly finished him. As he approached the threshold, Gabriel's voice piped up to his left.

“Father Eamon, what has become of Rodolfo?”

The air went cold as the question was asked.

“He has not been seen since he met with Emma. As far as I know, he is still in the realm somewhere, though I know not where.”

“Hmm… It seems to me more than a little strange that a girl, chosen one or not, can get into the heart of the enemy and escape without the help of someone who knows that place well, would you not agree?”

“I have no knowledge of Emma receiving any help in this matter.”

There was a pause before Gabriel answered and Father Eamon could feel his inner thoughts being probed once again.

“Yes, you are right; you have no knowledge of his hand in this. That will do Father Eamon…for now.”

As he went to leave there was a commotion and the air drew in tight around him. Something had just happened.

“Father Eamon, please wait a second.” It was the woman's voice but this time it was hesitant. “It may be that everything that is currently taking place will be irrelevant soon enough. It would appear that Emma's father is on his deathbed. He only has a matter of hours before he dies.”

Father Eamon turned back to the chamber, “How many hours?”

“That we do not know but he will be dead before dusk, in his world and Emma's.”

Father Eamon spun on his heals and rushed out of the chamber looking for Odysseia. Dusk would be in less than three hours. He would have need of another messenger.

A wind was whipping up the flames into a firestorm as, one after another, building after building caught alight. It pushed the fire along at a rate that meant that if they didn't hurry, they would never make it back to the sanctuary. People raced by Emma in their own private world, ignoring the woman in their midst that everybody was looking for. They made their way across the street and hurried along to St Dunstan's Hill; careful not to do anything that may draw attention to them.

As Emma looked up the hill, she saw the spire of St Dunstan's in the East silhouetted against the orange sky, its bricks refusing to give way to the fire surrounding it. She half-walked, half-ran towards Tower Street, staying clear of the clusters of people trying vainly to put out the flames or bring down the next buildings in line to go up, all the time with Aithne a little way ahead ensuring the way was clear.

They were successful and made it to Tower Street where a new sound joined that of the wind and the flames. Buildings were starting to cave in now as the supporting timbers gave way and the splintering of the oak beams was followed by the collapse of the brick walls and shattering of windows.

They slipped into Mark Lane, where Emma pushed herself against a church wall as Aithne watched the street before they made their final dash for the sanctuary. After a couple of minutes she motioned for them to carry on but as Emma went to start her run she heard the sharp clattering of hooves to her left. She drew back against the wall of the church outbuilding just in time to avoid being spotted by a dark rider as he stopped where she had been standing just seconds earlier. The horse shook its head, railing against its bridle, whilst the rider sat on top of it and silently surveyed the road ahead as his mount snorted and spat. Emma's pulse quickened. Her back burned from where she was pushing herself further into the wall but she had to endure it unless she wanted to give herself away.

This was the closest she had been to one of these horsemen and the smell it gave off was that of burning tar. For the first time she noticed that the horse left a sticky dark residue with every step, which seared into the ground only to disappear. The rider's boots were less than two feet away and Emma could see the rusting and twisted spurs. Its cloak was torn and exposed a set of chain mail beneath, which looked to be in the same condition as the spurs. The rider's mace hung loosely from the saddle and Emma had to stifle a groan as she realised that there was hair and flesh embedded in the spikes.

Just when she thought her lungs would burst. The rider kicked the horse in its haunches and tugged on the reins, forcing it to turn hard right with a whinnying complaint.
It headed down Harp Lane and Emma could hear the screams as it drove through the people crammed into the narrow passageway, unable to get out of the way.

Aithne turned to Emma. “Once we get out into the street, we do not stop until we reach the sanctuary, do you understand me?”

Emma nodded and followed her out into Tower Street. They ignored the screams and yells and ran towards Seething Lane, the sanctuary was only seconds away. To her left a group of people were attempting to save a hostelry and bakers that were about to fall victim to the floating embers as the wind pushed them along the street.

“You there, sir. Do not just dally, help us!”

The words were yelled at Aithne from her right and a sharp tug on her shoulder spun her around.

“Shit!” Emma realised too late what was happening. They had concentrated so hard on the people on the other side of the street that she hadn't seen the four men throwing wooden pales of water over the front door of a large pub. Emma froze, unable to think what to do next. All she could do was look at this man as he dragged Aithne by the arm towards the burning building. Had she had time to think, she could have made an excuse about the two of them getting to a family members house and helping there, but the mixture of the heat and wind along with her panic at seeing her guide being dragged away caused her to race up to the man and knock him hard onto the floor. As the man went down, her bonnet fell off and her hair fell to her shoulders. The man stood looking at her in wide-eyed disbelief. For a second he just sat there but then he got back up and started to look up and down the street. Emma knew what he was looking for. He leant forward and grabbed her by the wrist

“I have her! The one you are looking for, I have her here!”

Emma struggled as she saw the other men look over at the screaming man. She could see the dawning of recognition in their eyes and knew that they would all want a part of her. This time it was Aithne's turn to hit the man who went down again, taking the sleeve of Emma's dress with him and causing her to fall backwards as the man's grip was released. She picked herself up and they started up the street towards Seething Lane in a blind panic. Behind her, she could hear a growing clamour as more people, attracted by the screaming men, realised who was in their midst. Stumbling forward, Emma lifted up her outer skirt and ran hard, grateful for keeping on her trainers. A glowing ember settled on her exposed arm and Emma yelled in pain as she brushed it off. The crowd behind her was growing in size and had turned into an angry and desperate mob. They were clamouring for her soul and Emma knew that she would be torn apart if she fell into their hands. As she turned into Seething Lane, she tripped on a loose stone. Picking herself up, she risked a quick look over her shoulder and her heart leapt. The horde filled the street behind them and was only a few shop lengths away. She forced herself along the street, her lungs burning from the super heated air she was sucking in. She could see the sanctuary gates in the distance, shimmering in a heat haze and ran with a renewed strength, pushed all the way by Aithne who was now behind her ensuring that no one came close enough to grab her. As she passed the entrance to Hart Street, she was almost knocked sideways as a horse came crashing out into the lane. For a second it towered over her, its eyes glaring down but it to fell victim to the loose stones and rocks under its hooves and it lost its
footing before falling sideways, throwing the rider against the wall of a church sitting on the corner of the street.

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