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CHAPTER 40
Though it feels like sacrilege, work continues that morning on the Sanctum. Remi forbids gossip about Magister Thomas’s arrest, addressing the issue before work begins for the day. He declares his complete confidence the architect will be found innocent of the charges, but until then, the best everyone can do is make him proud of what is accomplished in the meantime. It is the only thing he does which I agree with.
Using the magister’s absence as an excuse, Remi pushes ahead on the new ceiling. As he tells it, the smart thing to do is advance the areas that he knows best. He orders the first stones of the ribs to be set on the floor in preparation for raising them to scaffolding across the top of the new section.
Oudin Montcuir comes by shortly before the noon break, and Remi proudly describes his intentions for the crisscrossing arches to support the vaulting. I’ve shown Oudin around with his father on several occasions, but he has more questions for his friend than he ever did for me. As they walk along the scaffolding platform itself, over fifty feet overhead, I catch sight of Lambert. He shuffles his feet and glances in my direction often enough that I decide he might want to speak with me.
Lambert’s face lights up as I approach, though his brow is creased and his eyes are fixed in teardrop shapes of worry. “Miss Catrin,” he says, “you left in such a hurry this morning that I wanted to ensure you were all right. Simon wouldn’t say a word about what happened.”
I stop about arm’s length away, warmed by his concern. “I was upset,” I admit. “But I assure you Simon wasn’t cruel.”
No more than I deserved.
Remi’s and Oudin’s heads appear over the edge of a high platform, looking down. I doubt they can hear us, but they’re obviously watching.
Lambert sighs. “I don’t know why Simon is so angry with you, but I’m certain he’s being unjust. His… past creates barriers I fear are impossible to overcome.”
“Yes, I’ve learned that myself.” Last night I’d come so close to breaking them down.
He traces a toe on the marble floor design before looking up shyly. “I just want you to know that I would listen to you where he would not, Miss Catrin.”
Juliane said before that Lambert fancied me. Maybe he still does, and I can use that to my advantage.
“Cat, please.” I take his arm, though it wasn’t offered, and guide him out of sight of our audience overhead. “That’s what my friends call me.” I lower my voice, forcing Lambert to lean down to hear me. “It’s just that Simon won’t allow me to visit Magister Thomas. Not even to bring him something to eat.”
“That does sound a little unreasonable,” Lambert admits. “Even the grain merchant was allowed visitors.”
“Yes, exactly!” I stop to turn to face him, focusing on his chest in front of me. “I just—I just wish…” I bite my lip but it’s not difficult to bring moisture to my eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to ask.”
“Perhaps it’s not fair of him to forbid you.” Lambert ducks his head to catch my eye. “And the venatre may have ordered his arrest, but he’s not the authority in the gaol. That’s the provost’s office.”
I act as though that thought hadn’t occurred to me, allowing myself a look of hope before dropping my gaze and letting my shoulders sag. “But he’ll be furious when he learns.”
“Then he needn’t find out.”
Lambert agrees I should meet him at the Palace of Justice after stopping at home. Mistress la Fontaine is dishing warmed stew from last night into a wide-mouthed jug for Magister Thomas as Remi arrives for his own lunch. His mother slathers a loaf of bread with fresh butter as he pulls me away to stand by the fireplace.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he says quietly. “I’m amazed the venatre is allowing it.”
“All prisoners have the right to receive visitors,” I reply, settling my rain cloak around my shoulders.
He raises eyebrows. “Have you considered this might be a trap?”
“A trap?” I stare at him. “To lockmein the gaol?”
“Not necessarily, but maybe the venatre is only letting you in so he can listen to what the magister says to you.”
I wave my hand in dismissal of the idea, neglecting to correct him on who is authorizing this. “All the more reason to go—we have nothing to hide.”
“That you know of,” Remi says darkly. Then he sighs. “Don’t stay too long. We have work to do.” He drops heavily into his chair at the table.
“Do you have any messages you’d like me to pass along?” I ask as I take the jug of stew and wrapped bundle of bread from the housekeeper.
Remi stares at his bowl like he’s not hungry. “Just tell him I have everything under control.”
Lambert waits for me around the corner from the Palace of Justice, but so does Oudin. “I’m sorry,” Lambert says quietly after taking my burdens from me. “I couldn’t convince him to go home. Fortunately, he’s more than glad to keep our secret from Simon.”
Or to have blackmail material, I’m sure. But I’m committed to this.
