St. Severin Church
Paris, Kingdom of France
David entered the church, an impressive affair, though nothing like he had experienced in the Holy Land. It was now evening, and a disappointing number of worshipers were present, though for their purposes, that might be a good thing.
As he went through the customary rituals, he scanned their surroundings for anything suspicious, finding nothing. He headed for the front, his eyes on the third pew, far left, sighing with relief that no one was seated there.
Time was of the essence, and a delay while waiting for some devout worshipper to finish, was not part of the plan.
He sat in the corner, Jeremy beside him, and surreptitiously stuck the note between the bench and the end of the pew requesting a meeting tonight in the gap. He bowed his head and prayed for their success, apologizing profusely to God for using His house in such a manner, and in using prayer to disguise their true purpose.
Though he was confident they would be forgiven. After all, what they were doing was for the greater good, and the lives of too many innocents were at stake.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, and they both rose, exiting the pew and making the sign of the cross before beating a retreat that David tried to make appear casual to any who might be watching. They had no way of knowing if someone was already in the church, monitoring for a drop, though Marcus had thought it unlikely. The appointed time for a meeting was still several hours from now, and according to the instructions provided by the imprisoned accomplices, as long as a message was left at least an hour beforehand, the meeting would take place.
And there was no way someone would wait for hours for a message that may never arrive—it would appear too suspicious.
David mounted his horse, urging it forward at a reasonable pace, not wanting to draw any attention lest Marcus was wrong, all the while keeping a wary eye out for anyone suspicious. He glanced at Jeremy. “That went as well as could be expected.”
“Assuming whoever is collecting it didn’t spot us.”
“What, you don’t trust your master?”
Jeremy smiled. “Don’t try and twist my words.” He shook his head. “Is your heart pounding as hard as mine?”
David chuckled. “Harder. I don’t think I’ve been this on edge since we’ve been in France, and there’s not a sword in sight.” He flicked his reins. “Let’s get to the rendezvous as quickly as we can. I don’t like being this exposed.”