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BLAKE WATCHED AS THE monks stood in mute silence for a moment, and then one whispered. The others turned. There was a flurry of gesticulation and heated argument. The eldest monk finally stepped forward, his steps faltering, his blue eyes misty with age or the fear of what was to come.
“Take me, but let my brothers leave. I will go soon to meet the Lord anyway.”
The seeress nodded, and the other monks hurried away, only one looking back at the brother they had left behind, regret and shame on his face.
“Make it quick, I beg of you,” the old monk said, using one of the altar rails to lower himself down, beginning to pray.
“I can’t give you that, old man, but perhaps your own god will hear your screams and your place in paradise will be assured.” She gestured to the two Viking guards.
