Bohemian Gospel: A Novel by Dana Chamblee Carpenter

Author:Dana Chamblee Carpenter [Carpenter, Dana Chamblee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus
Published: 2015-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

Days later, in the dark hours of the morning, she came to the castle gate. She was so tired she could barely stand, her body stiff with cold. Like a ghost, she had wandered out of Houska and back into the world and none of it seemed real. Squinting at the colors and flinching at birdsong, she had walked until she couldn’t anymore, and then she huddled in the hollow at the base of a linden tree, dropping like rain into a deep sleep, waking only a few hours later, sore and cramping, to push herself up and do it all again. She avoided the villages, all of the people too bright, too bold, too alive.

Despite her soiled and torn clothes, the guards knew her and let her pass at the castle gate. She went straight to the bishop’s house, holding the letter Father Lucas had penned in berry ink on a page he had torn from his breviary. The monk, too, recognized her when he opened the door. He beckoned her in, pressing his hand to his nose as she passed.

Bishop Miklaus sat at a heavy table near the fire of his receiving room. “You do not seem well, Lady Emma. Sit.” Mouse was already leaning heavily on the chair. “Brother,” he said to the monk, “fetch some wine and bread.”

“Thank you,” Mouse said.

“And where is Father Lucas?”

“He is at Houska still. Here, he explains everything in his letter.”

She studied the bishop’s face as he read. Father Lucas had written only a few vague details about unnatural beasts and forces of evil at work as he called for the Church to take arms at Houska, but even these seemed to unsettle Bishop Miklaus, whose eyes widened as he read. “I must write to Rome,” he muttered to himself.

The bishop looked up with relief when the monk entered with food and wine.

“Here, my Lady, you should restore yourself. Brother, ready the west guest room for Lady Emma. She will want to rest after her journey.”

“Thank you, your Excellency,” Mouse replied, “but I mean to go see my Lord King Ottakar. He is still in Prague, is he not?”

“He is here, my Lady, but . . .”

Mouse’s senses fired at the sound of fear in the bishop’s voice; it pierced her fatigue. She slid to the edge of her seat. “But what?” she asked.

Bishop Miklaus cleared his throat and watched until the monk closed the doors behind him. “Much has changed in the weeks since you left, Lady Emma.”

“What do you mean?”

“King Vaclav has returned.”

“I know this.”

The bishop flinched. “King Vaclav and his son have not always lived in peace.”

“I know this, too.” Anxiety hardened Mouse’s tone. “By the saints, tell me what has happened!”

“King Vaclav claims that it was the Younger King who plotted to poison him.”

“That is a lie.” She read his face. “And you know it.”

“With all respect, my Lady, who are you to question the truth of the King?”

“It makes no sense, Bishop. Someone plotted to kill Ottakar, too.

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