CHURCH BELLS WERE RINGING.

As I came out of the crypt, Emilie rushed up, excited. We have visitors, Hugh! Archbishop Velloux is arriving at the gates.

Velloux... ? I did not know the name.

From Paris.

Paris!I did not know if this was good or bad. The Church had excommunicated us. If this was upheld, all we had fought for could be lost. No matter what Anne vowed to rectify, without the Church we were outcasts, more dead than alive.

I hobbled into the courtyard. Anne stood by expectantly. Bishop Barthelme too. From all about, my men gathered around the courtyard: Odo, Georges, Alphonse, Father Leo.

The archbishop of Paris! This was a humbling thing.

As the portcullis was raised, a column of soldiers in crimson surcoats galloped two by two into the courtyard.

Behind them, an ornate carriage drawn by six strong steeds.

It bore the cross of Rome, insignia of the Holy See.

My heart was leaping out of my chest. Emilie squeezed my hand. I have a good feeling, she whispered.

I wished I could say I did as well.

A captain of the guard jumped off his mount and placed a stool in front of the carriage door. When it opened, two priests wearing scarlet skullcaps emerged. Then, a moment behind them, the archbishop, about sixty by my estimate, his hair gray and thinned, wearing a crimson robe and a large gold cross around his neck.

Your Eminence, Bishop Barthelme exclaimed. He and his priests dropped to one knee. Slowly, everyone around them did the same. This is a great honor. I pray you did not have too unsettling a trip.

We would not have, the archbishop curtly replied, were it not that on your word we went first to Treille, ex............