flower and presented it to the elderly abbess with a flourish. “Have your hosteller speak with my steward, my lady abbess, and he will reimburse your abbey for the expenses you’ve incurred in caring for these castaways. I’ve given orders that men should search the beaches for the dead, but I doubt that their bodies will be recovered. It is a sad fate to be denied a Christian burial, especially for the Knights of God. They deserved better than that.”
Abbess Blanche was in full agreement; she shared William’s admiration for the Templars. Their deaths seemed all the more tragic because their sacrifice had been needless. The galley had not gone down as quickly as all feared, and once the storm passed, the local people rowed out in small boats and ferried the stranded survivors to shore, charging exorbitant fees for that service. Only then did the San Niccolò break up and sink quietly beneath the waves.
“Our costs have been minimal, my lord, for only three of the women passengers were injured. One broke her arm when she was flung against the tiller, and the second sprained her ankle when she jumped out of the longboat. But the third . . .” The abbess shook her head and sighed. “We know very little about her, for the other passengers say she kept to herself. They could tell me only her name—Alicia de Sezanne—and that she is the sister of one of the drowned Templars. She is just a child and I fear that she is all alone in the world now, may Our Blessed Mother pity her plight.”
“She has no family?” William frowned. “Poor little lass. If her brother was a Templar, she must be gently born. Surely she has kin somewhere? What did she tell you?”
“Nothing, my lord. She has not spoken a word for a fortnight. Indeed, I am not even sure if she hears what we say to her, and if the passengers had not told me otherwise, I’d think she was a deaf-mute. It has been a struggle to get her to eat even a few swallows of soup. She just lies there.... I do not know what will become of the child, truly I do not. What if her grief has driven her mad?”
She paused then, hoping that William would come up with a solution, and he did not disappoint her. “Suppose I ask my wife to come and see the lass?” he said thoughtfully. “She may be able to break through the girl’s shell. She is very good at that, you know.”
“What a wonderful idea, my lord! Do you think the Lady Joanna would be willing?”
His smile was both indulgent and affectionate. “My wife has never been able to resist a bird with a broken wing.”
JOANNA PAUSED in the doorway of the infirmary, beset by sudden doubts. What was she to say to the child? What comfort could she offer? “How old did you say she was, Sister Heloise?”
“We cannot be sure, Madame, but we think she looks to be about ten years or so, mayhap eleven.”
Too young to understand why God had taken her brother, Joanna thought, and then smiled, without any humor. She was nigh on twenty-four, and she did not understand, either. “Take me to her,” she said, and followed the young nun across the chamber toward a corner bed. She was touched by her first sight of that small, forlorn figure, lying so still that it was a relief to see the faint rise and fall of her chest. The girl seemed pathetically fragile and frail, her face turned toward the wall, and when Joanna spoke her name, she did not respond. Signaling for Sister Heloise to bring a chair over, Joanna sat beside the bed and pondered what to say.
“I am so very sorry for your brother’s death, Alicia. You can be proud of his courage, and . . . and it must be some comfort to know that he is in the Almighty’s Embrace. My confessor assured me that one of God’s Knights would be spared Purgatory, that Heaven’s Gates would be opened wide to him. . . .” There was no indication that Alicia had even heard her, and Joanna’s words trailed off. How could she expect the lass to find consolation in theology? All Alicia knew was that her brother was dead and she was abandoned and alone.
“I would not presume to say I know what you are feeling, Alicia. I can tell you this, though, that