Angel Time: The Songs of the Seraphim by Anne Rice

Author:Anne Rice
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Assassins, Christian, Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Suspense, Historical, Suspense fiction, General, Angels
ISBN: 9781400043538
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2009-10-27T16:08:59.500000+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The Mystery of Lea

IT WAS AN ANGRY MOB, AND FRIGHTENING IN APPEARANCE because it was not all rabble by any means. Many carried lanterns and some had torches, and a few even carried tapers, and many were richly dressed in velvet and fur.

The houses on either side of this street were of stone, and I remembered that the Jews had built the very first stone houses in England, and with reason.

I could hear Malchiah’s intimate voice as I approached.

“The priests in white are from the cathedral priory,” he said, as I looked to the three heavily robed men closest to the door of the house. “The Dominicans are gathered there around Lady Margaret, who is a niece to the Sherriff and a cousin of the Archbishop. That’s her daughter beside her, Nell, a girl of thirteen. They are the ones bringing the charge against Meir and Fluria that they’ve poisoned their child and secretly buried her. Remember, Meir and Fluria are your charges, and you are here to help them.”

There were a thousand questions I wanted to ask. I was reeling from the statement that a child might have been murdered. And only dimly did I make the obvious connection: these people were being accused of the very crime I myself had committed habitually.

I pushed into the midst of the crowd, and Malchiah was gone and I knew it. I was on my own now.

It was Lady Margaret who pounded at the door as I approached it. She was stunningly dressed in a narrow robe with dagged leaves, all trimmed in fur, and she wore a loose hooded mantle of fur. Her face was stained with tears, and her voice was broken.

“Come out and answer!” she demanded. She seemed utterly sincere and deeply distressed. “Meir and Fluria, I demand it. Produce Lea now or answer for why she’s not here. We’ll have no more of your lies, I swear it.”

She turned around and let her voice ring out over the crowd. “Tell us no more fanciful tales, that this child has been taken to Paris.”

A great chorus of approval rose from the crowd.

I greeted the other Dominicans who moved towards me and told them under my breath that I was Br. Toby, a pilgrim, who had traveled through many lands.

“Well, you’ve come at the right time,” said the tallest and most impressive of the friars. “I’m Fr. Antoine, the Superior here, as you no doubt know, if you’ve been to Paris, and these Jews have poisoned their own daughter because she dared to enter the cathedral on Christmas night.”

Though he tried to keep his voice down, this brought an immediate sobbing from Lady Margaret, and her daughter Nell. And many shouts and cries of agreement from those around us.

The young girl, Nell, was as exquisitely dressed as her mother, but infinitely more distressed, shaking her head and sobbing. “It’s all my fault, all my fault. I brought her to the church.”

At once, the white-robed priests from the priory began to quarrel with the friar who’d spoken to me.

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