IT WAS SURPRISINGLY EASY TO GET INSIDE THE ABBEY UNSEEN. Not only was the door on the south end of the curtain wall that surrounded the monastic buildings unlatched, but it was also propped open. A priest had placed a stone in front of the door so that it would be easier for him to carry in bags of grain from the wagon across the path.

Gabrielle and her guards watched him from the cover of the trees behind the abbey. She thought the bags looked like they weighed more than the priest did. He wasn’t quite an old man yet, possibly still in his early forties, she guessed, but he didn’t have much muscle. He first tried to put the bag on one shoulder, nearly toppled over, and ended up wrapping his arms around the middle of the bag and letting the bottom drag between his legs.

Reining her horse into the open, she called out to him. “Father, would you allow some help?”

He was at first startled, and then he nodded vigorously. “I would be most thankful for assistance,” he called out.

Lucien and Faust had already dismounted and were headed to the wagon. Lucien noticed how the priest struggled under the weight of the bag and took it from him. “Where would you like this?” he asked.

“Just inside the door on the left is a storage building. If you stack the grain there, I would be most appreciative.” He pulled a cloth from the belt of his robes and mopped the sweat from the back of his neck. Smiling, he started toward Gabrielle. “Welcome, I’m Father Gelroy.”

He’d just crossed the path when he noticed the injured man draped across Stephen’s saddle.

“What have we here?” he demanded. He rushed to Stephen’s side to get a better look, and he was so shocked by the man’s condition he made a hasty sign of the cross. “What happened to this poor fellow? Is he alive?”

“He is,” Christien answered.

Stephen dismounted and lifted Liam into his arms. “This man is in need of assistance as you can clearly see. Is there a healer here?”

“Aye, there is, and more than one,” he answered in a rush. “Come. Follow me.”

Lucien and Faust made quick work of unloading the grain. Gabrielle dismounted and handed the reins to Lucien.

The priest hurried to the door ahead of them. “Does this man have a name?”

Gabrielle answered. “His name is Liam MacHugh.”

Father Gelroy’s reaction was swift. He came to such an abrupt stop he actually swayed, then whirled around. His expression was one of disbelief, and the color had disappeared from his face.

“Did I hear you say MacHugh?” He was so rattled, he’d shouted the question. “Tell me I didn’t, but did I?”

“Father, please, lower your voice,” Stephen instructed.

The priest put his hand to his forehead. Gabrielle noticed it trembled.

“My God. You’ve got Liam MacHugh and he’s barely alive. If he dies…”

Gabrielle stepped forward. “We are hopeful with the healer’s help he won’t die,” she said quietly.

Father Gelroy forced himself to calm down. “Yes, yes, we must all be hopeful,” he stammered. “I’ll tell you this. There will be hell to pay if he dies. Quickly now. Inside with him. The room next to mine is empty. We’ll put him in there. Once I’ve shown you the way I’ll go in search of Father Franklin. He’s more skilled, I believe, than the others.”

Lucien and Faust stayed with the horses while Stephen and Christien, carrying Liam, followed Gabrielle and the priest into the abbey. The corridor he led them down was dark, narrow, and smelled like the inside of a wet cave. All the doors were of dry splintered wood in arched frames. Father nodded to one as he rushed past and said, “That’s my room.”

He stopped in front of the next door, gently rapped on it with his knuckles to make certain it was still unoccupied, and then lifted the latch. He pushed the door, stepped inside, and held it open for them.

The room was tiny, with a small window set high above a wooden pallet that served as a bed. A gray wool blanket covered the straw mattress. A stool and a small chest were the room’s only other pieces of furniture. A water bowl and pitcher flanked by two candles sat on top of the chest.

“Put him on the bed. Gently now,” the priest said. “Let him sleep on his side so his back…good Lord, his poor back…” He took a breath and slowly let it out. “I believe Father Franklin is at vespers. I’ll tell him to bring his medicines. When I come back, I’ll fetch my stole and oils and give Liam MacHugh the last rites.”

Gabrielle protested. “But that sacrament is only for those who are dying.”

“Can you tell me he isn’t dying?”

She bowed her head. “Nay, I cannot.”

“Then he must have the sacrament of Extreme Unction so that he can go to heaven unblemished.”

He turned to leave, but Christien stepped in front of the door, blocking his exit.

“Father, it would be for the better if no one knew how this man came to be here.”

“Then I must first know if any of you had anything to do with his injuries. It’s a foul question, but I must have an answer.”

“He was in this condition when we came upon him,” Christien told him.

“I thought as much, for why else would you carry such a burden?” the priest returned. “I promise you I won’t be saying a word to anyone about Laird MacHugh’s brother, but I would like to know what happened.”

“Will you keep our confidence as well?” Christien asked. “It would be for the better if you don’t know who we are.”

The priest shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. The second I saw this beautiful lady I knew who she was. There have been whispers of her coming for weeks now.”

He turned to her and bowed low. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gabrielle. Have no worries, for if I am introduced to you in the future, I will be pleased to meet you then as though for the first time. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Thank you, Father,” she said, but she doubted he heard her, for he had already rushed out of the room.

“It’s time for you to leave, Princess,” Stephen said.

Christien nodded agreement. “Aye, it’s time.”

The two guards looked worried, and she was sorry to disappoint them.

“I cannot leave him just yet. He’s too vulnerable. Someone must watch over him while he is in this weakened state. Before I go, I must be certain that he is in capable hands and that he has the proper medicines.”

She wouldn’t be swayed. The argument that Father Franklin would be one more man they would have to trust to keep their confidence wasn’t valid in her opinion. Father Franklin was also a man of God and would not break the promise they would get from him.

“The more people who know, the better the chance of the trail leading back to the man you killed…” Stephen began.

“This man’s life is more important.”

“We cannot agree, Princess,” Christien said, “but we will do your bidding.”

Liam still hadn’t opened his eyes or made any sounds at all, not even a groan when Father Franklin, who Gabrielle had to admit was quite capable, sewed his skin together. He’d wanted to forgo the stitches and sear the wound with a hot poker, but she wouldn’t allow it. There seemed no need since the bleeding had stopped at last. There was another reason. Though she doubted the warrior would care about appearance, he was quite handsome, and a scar from stitches wouldn’t be as terrible as a burn scar.

Once she was assured that nothing more could be done for the wounded man, Gabrielle finally consented to trust his care to the two priests.

The sun was setting when Gabrielle finally left Liam’s side.