The Execution by Sharon Cramer

Author:Sharon Cramer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, love, suspense, drama, murder, action, history, religion, epic, brothers, twins, literary fiction, killer, medieval, mercenary, adventure action, persecution, fiction historical, epic adventure, fiction drama, epic fiction, fiction action adventure, fiction adult survival, medieval era, medieval fiction, fiction thrillers, medieval romance novels, epic battle, medieval france, epic novel, fiction fantasy historical, epic thriller, love after loss, gallows, epic adventure fiction, epic historical, medieval historical fiction
Publisher: Sharon Cramer

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

†

“D’ata, what has possessed you, son?” Monsignor Leoceonne raised his voice to an uncharacteristic timbre, making him sound almost female. “You disgrace me, you disgrace your father, and most of all you disgrace God and the church!” He paced the floor, his robes whirling as he spun in front of D’ata.

The abbey was dark and quiet and the father’s voice rang hollow down the empty rectory halls like a lone cow bellowing the loss of her calf. The other clergy prayed in the private confines of their own chambers, silently.

Never had there been such a scandal as this. The lovers had been caught naked in St. Aloysius, and the ornamental rug was now stained with the virgin’s blood! It was so unbearably scandalous! They had been separated, ripped from each other, wet with their sweat, blood, and carnal fornication.

D’ata’s chamber was small with low ceilings and a heavy wooden door. A single window was the only other access. A lone candle burned on the simple timbered nightstand and the narrow bed sported a solitary woolen blanket with faded cotton sheeting. A bible lay on the nightstand, opened and flipped over to hold the place.

He held his head in shame, kneeling on the stone floor before the older priest, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “Father, I don’t know what to say.” He looked up, his tormented eyes damp. “I love her, father—I cannot bear to be away from her.” He gestured with his palms up, adding hurriedly, “Perhaps it is a horrible mistake that I have chosen this path. My father may be mistaken too! I have prayed...” His dark eyes were bloodshot, his face gaunt, his hair dulled from the emotional anguish he so recently suffered.

“Silence!” The monsignor waved him quiet. “Don’t disrespect everything that has been done on your behalf!” He shook a stubby finger penitently, “Have you any idea the work that has gone into bringing you to this station!” He slashed the air with his finger. “It is not open to debate—you will accept your ordainment without argument!”

At long last, the Monsignor stopped, breathing heavily. Missing his front teeth, his incisors intact, he looked oddly to D’ata like a fat old walrus in a black dress, complete with white collar. He shook the image from his mind and cradled his face in his hands. “Please, just tell me,” he whispered and implored the Monsignor with all the heartache in the world, “where is she? Please?”

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