“I would like to pray before the Ark, Father,” she said. Natasha knew that he understood what the money was for but he hesitated before speaking.
“Indeed, you can pray there,” he said, “but you will not see the Ark. It is only brought forth twice a year, on Epiphany and the Feast of St Mary of Zion.”
Natasha nodded. “Even so, I would like to pray before the shrine.”
“Of course, my child.”
He gestured to the youngest looking of the monks who got slowly to his feet. Natasha could see that these holy men would not be around for another generation, and whatever secrets they kept would die of old age. The man shuffled towards the Shrine and pulled a key from his belt. He unlocked the fence that walled off the Shrine and waved her inside, holding a hand up indicating that Isac and her men sh
