Jude didn’t turn. Weakness buckled his knees, forcing him to lean heavily against the wall as he inched them towards the exit. The voice called again – his name, this time, and Maeve’s. Louder. More desperate. He turned to see Elden barrelling towards them, Mr Peters at his heels.
He kept going. He wouldn’t rest until Maeve was outside. Until she wassafe.
Had Caleb known who Mr Peters was? He didn’t know how much the sheep farmer knew of his partner’s abilities, if he was aware that in places like this, Bethan would be considered a saint.
Or maybe the Abbey had more unseen eyes than Jude could imagine. Maybe they’d been spotted leaving Ánhaga and followed here. Were there even fire supplies, or had that been Mr Peters’ excuse to get them to come this morning? Jude wished he’d been there to witness the man’s introduction to Maeve and Elden, to see the manipulation for himself.
Fresh air assaulted every sense as he finally got them outside, the crispness so vivid he shut his eyes tightly against it as he moved them further and further from the church. When he opened them, the world was clear once more. To his relief, Maeve’s eyes were open, too. She wriggled out of his arms and turned back to the open church doors.
‘Elden!’ she cried.
Elden stood in the doorway, blocking the exit with his broad shoulders, his back to them. Jude caught a glimpse of Mr Peters’ searching gaze before Elden pushed him back. ‘Go!’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘Please,Jude.I’ll catch up.’
His gaze locked with Jude’s. He recognized the desperation in his friend’s eyes. The pleading.
Jude nodded.
Maeve cried out, trying to run back to the church even as he tried to pull her to safety. ‘We can’t leave him,’ she begged, tears in her voice. ‘We can’t.’
‘He’ll be okay,’ Jude soothed into her hair, trying to quell his own consuming fear. He reached back, fumbling with the cool iron of the gate, and pulling them through. ‘He’s not a saint. The Abbey has no business with him. He’ll be safe.’
The church’s doors slammed shut, blocking off their view of Elden and Mr Peters.
Maeve sagged, letting Jude hurry her up the path and away from the church. She looked up at him with eyes red and streaming. ‘Don’t lie to me,’ she whispered.
He pressed his lips tightly together. Trapping lies or truths, he wasn’t yet sure.
Ahead of them, the path faded out into the wilds of the moors. Wind tore around them like a beast all its own. Each inhale burned his lungs, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. The weight in her gaze, the accusation in her voice, all of it reminded him that he didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t protect her or Elden. He couldn’t make it go away.
At the end of the day, he was a powerless creature. Stuck under the weight of a boot, just waiting to be crushed.
39
Jude
To their surprise, Elden caught up with them less than an hour after they’d escaped the church.
He was breathing hard, his hat crumpled in his hands, but whole. He even smiled as he approached. ‘Told you I’d catch up.’
Maeve hugged him. ‘Good to see you.’
‘How’d you manage that, then?’ Jude asked as they continued walking. He applauded himself for keeping the fondness out of his voice.
Even still, Elden sent him a knowing grin. ‘Talked my way out. Told Mr Peters I knew where you were going, and I’d bring you back.’
Jude stopped. ‘What?’
He scanned the horizon behind Elden. Nothing. No dark, encroaching shape marred the snow-covered hills. Still, he couldn’t deny the shiver that coursed down his spine.
Maeve urged him on with a hand between his shoulders. ‘Glad you still have a sense of humour, Elden.’
Elden’s gaze remained straight ahead. ‘There’s a village on the outskirts of Whitebury. About an hour’s walk from the town centre. I reckon it’d be safer than going into the town proper. There should be more than a few groups of pilgrims to blend into the closer we get.’
Jude frowned. He didn’t remember telling Elden about their plan to pose as pilgrims. Perhaps Maeve had.
As the hours passed, they encountered several other groups trekking through the knee-deep snow towards the Abbey, just as Elden predicted. He did most of the talking each time they encountered a new group, placing his wide-shouldered frame ahead of Maeve and Jude. Mercifully, no one remained close for long, though Jude felt the weight of their eyes heavy upon him long after they’d left. After the episode at the church, he was more suspicious than ever about watchful gazes and too-curious questions.
He scanned each face to see if he recognized anyone from the church. One man, he thoughtmaybe… something about his gaunt frame looked familiar. Maybe it was the ampulla he had clutched in his fist, or maybe it was the pale shade of his eyes, keenly focused as they roved Maeve’s face.
